I was one of the first to arrive. After the master's announcement I hadn't been able to concentrate on the food in front of me. That, and things were still awkward with Ella. She hadn't spoken to me once since my outburst the night before and, though I should have, I hadn't offered up an apology. Alex hadn't known what to do, alternating between talk with the girl he adored and his mule-headed sister. It had grown to be an extremely uncomfortable breakfast.
Leaning against the edge of the rail I wondered what the contest would be. Hand-to-hand combat, sickle sword, long sword, longbow, crossbow, axe, knife, javelin, throwing daggers, staff, or something new? It would have to be something we had already learned, surely. And since the prince was Byron's favorite it would undoubtedly be something Darren was good at.
But he was good at everything.
I hoped it was anything but hand-to-hand combat. No matter how hard I trained my arms remained stubbornly slim, and there were many boys whose arm bore muscle twice the size of my own. If we were forced into a weighted match I would lose to the heavier opponent. At least with a weapon I could keep a distance. I was fast, quick.
Please, I thought, let it be something I am good at.
"I hope it's not the crossbow," I heard Ray mutter to my left.
"I hope it is the crossbow," a second-year said. "Or the knife."
I wanted the knife too. But I knew better than to hope for it. Byron knew I was good with it. If I knew Byron he would pick the axe. It was Darren's favorite.
It was also, coincidentally, one of my least.
"Don't look so sure of yourself, Ryiah," Priscilla drawled. "You know it's going to be a fifth-year, not one of us."
"Maybe not." Darren stepped in between us. "I happen to be quite good for my age." He looked sideways at me. "Better even."
There was a flutter in the pit of my stomach. Stop staring! I admonished myself. Now was not the time to be distracted. I drew a deep breath and I saw the corner of Darren's lip twitch in a sly smile. He knew exactly what he was doing.
"Is everyone here?" Commander Chen glanced around and then back to our training master. When Byron nodded he continued. "Good. Now Byron has been kind enough to let me pick today's weapon of choice. Since this city's most common issue is thieves I thought it best to stick with what my regiment knows best: a street fight with knives."
Yes. I wanted to kiss the bald man. Thank you! Thank you for giving me a chance!
A couple of the heavier apprentices groaned.
"Each one of you will be paired with another student at random. That person may or may not be your year. You will only have one match and your master and I will judge you according to your performance." He cleared his throat. "After all the matches have concluded you will be dismissed. Byron and I will take four hours to rank you and post the results at dinner."
What if my opponent is a fifth-year? Suddenly the odds didn't look so good anymore.
I needn't have worried.
They were worse.
****
"Darren and Ryiah."
I stood frozen in place. I couldn't move if I wanted to.
The master frowned and called out louder. "Darren and Ryiah. It is your turn for a match."
I'm going to lose. I had never drilled with Darren, ever…. except in the armory during my first year at the Academy, and that time I had lost. And he hadn't even been trying then.
I'm going to lose. I should have hoped for a fifth-year.
Swallowing my pride I followed the prince to a rack of blades beside the commander and Byron. I picked up a couple of different knives, weighing them in my hands, testing their grip.
I chose a medium-sized one of quality steel. I wrapped my fingers around the base of the handle so that my thumb overlapped my forefinger. The blade angled up with my wrist, locked and ready to strike. I was ready.
I stood with my feet a shoulder width apart, comfortable and diagonal to my garnet-eyed opponent.
The knowing grin on Darren's face was obnoxiously self-assured. I could hear Priscilla cheering him on loudly to my right. You should have known Byron would never let you win.
It was hard to imagine a month ago I'd been kissing the prince and now I was contemplating the easiest way to strike him down. Before he struck me.
Let Darren go first, I decided. Wait for him to make the first move and then disarm him. Don't engage – disarm. Do not take him on without disarming him first!
"Why so quiet, Ryiah?" Darren interrupted my thoughts as I matched him, circling so that we continued to stand across from one another leaving no side exposed. "I should think you'd be pleased Byron thought us equal opponents." He was smiling and waiting for me to take the bait. He knew just as I did our pairing was not, as the commander had insisted, random.
I stayed silent and continued to study the prince's features, not willing to waste precious energy in banter.
"Gut her like a fish, your highness!" Merrick screeched.
I bit down on my lip, hard. It was all I could do not to throw my weapon at my mentee's face.
Darren took the momentary distraction to lunge – striking in like a serpent, quick and precise.