“What the fu—” I thrust my sword at him, hitting him for the first time in the crook behind his knee. His howl of pain was music to my ears.
My next two attempts made contact, one in the side of his stomach and the other under his arm. Pain and anger blended together within me and urged me on. I pushed all my strength, although it was beginning to dwindle. My next movement had managed to send his sword tumbling from his hands. Hadrian’s face, a painting of surprise.
“Ha!” I shouted. I’d spoken too soon. He growled and moved forward, side stepping my frantic attempt to stop him.
His fists struck me in calculated movements. He moved like a viper, sending sharp punches to my arm. I stumbled backwards, falling over my feet and landing on the ground. He leaped on top of me, pinning me down with his weight and straddling my stomach.
“Never be cocky. You do not win until your competitor is on the ground,” Hadrian said, flecks of his spit and sweat on my face. “And right now, you are the one on the ground, which makes me the winner.”
I tried to wiggle free, but failed. Hadrian was heavy, a lump of pure muscle. “I get it. You can get off me.”
Hadrian rolled me over. He yanked at my arms and wrapped his legs around my stomach. I pushed, trying anything to get the upper hand. But my energy was spent.
“Enough!” I pleaded, less with Hadrian and more with my magick as it stirred within me. I pinched my eyes closed and pushed at it. My lack of energy was working against me. I couldn’t see Hadrian, but only felt the lack of his weight when he let go of me.
I could feel the stuffy air in the room throbbing around me, begging for me to take a hold of it. It screamed at me, it wanted me. Every ounce of strength I had left, I threw it down against my magick, finally stopping its rush.
“Cheap shot.” Hadrian wheezed beside me, still clutching his crotch. “Looks like we are both on the floor. Neither of us wins.” I must have kicked him as he rolled on his back, grasping his groin.
“If training is going to be like this for the next two weeks, I think I would prefer working in the kitchens and forfeit the duel.”
“If training is going to end like this,” Hadrian moaned, “I think I will have to insist on training with you as often as possible.”
I pushed off the floor, my legs screaming as I attempted to stand. I stumbled to the wall on the far side of the room and sank my hands into the fresh spring that dripped from a hole in the bricks. Its cold touch was refreshing against my aching fingers. My face chilled once I rubbed the water across my warm cheeks.
My ears twitched as Hadrian stood from the floor behind me and picked up both the fallen swords. “I am impressed, Zac, truly.” He joined me next to the spring. “I’m not going to lie, I first thought you were a lost cause. But by the end of this session I could see the want to fight back in your eyes. You just need… persuading.”
“Persuading!” I laughed, turning towards him. “You call that persuading?” I gripped onto the wall, fighting back the urge to strike him. It was easy to forget he was the prince. I would wipe that smug smile from his face one way or another. “And my name is Zacriah. Call me by it.”
“Ease up!” He raised his hands in defeat. “I shouldn’t have been so hard on you. It has been a while since I trained with anyone and must admit I got a little carried away. But if it is any consolation, you did best me... sort of.” His eyes flickered to his crotch which his hand covered as he spoke.
“Well next time, ease up,” I said.
“What is that…” Hadrian moved closer to me, inspecting my arm. “You bruise easy, I’m sorry.”
I looked down to see what he saw. My arms were already covered in purple and black spots. I pulled my arm from his clammy grasp. “I forgive you. I bruise easily; Mam always said I was like a petal.”
“Like a petal. I like that. In fact, if I can’t call you Zac, I believe petal is just as good of a choice.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Never, Petal.”
“Is training over?” I asked, taking my eyes away from the small curls on his chest and ignoring his teasing. He stood right before me, both his hands on the wall on either side of me.
“We can stop now.”
“Great.” I slipped under his arms, and headed for the door, unsure where I was to go. But the latent hunger that rumbled in my stomach told me I needed food.
“But before you rush off I have something for you.”
***
I FOLLOWED HIM for the third time that day. All hope of escaping for food had disintegrated into nothing as we moved through the dark corridor ahead. Hadrian had forgotten to put his shirt back on, although it didn’t cross my mind to remind him. At the end of the corridor, we reached another room.
He turned for me before opening the door to it.
“My father believes, and rightly so, that allowing our soldiers to each pick a weapon of their choice gives our army an advantage. Alongside the bow and arrow and sword that is given to all who join, it is also custom for each solider to pick out a weapon that is of their personal choice.” He pulled open the doors. “Welcome to the armoury.”
I was stunned into silence. I passed glinting objects that hung from the walls, weapons of all different sizes and designs. The room was full of shelving, each covered in dusty swords and scabbard to match. We moved through a small space between two units, a row that seemed to never end. Hadrian headed straight for a cabinet up against the wall ahead. It was made from some type of burgundy wood I didn’t recognize. Its surface was glossy, reflecting the minimal light around it making it seem wet. I peered over his shoulder and watched him pull open the top drawer. Within the drawer short iron swords, daggers and unfamiliar armaments each laid on a purple silk cushion. The weapons were different from those that lined the walls and covered the shelves we had passed. Obsidian daggers with handles crafted from bone, intricate iron throwing stars and swords covered with razor shape teeth. They each lay in their own space within the drawer, amongst the mounds of silk.
“Looks like a lot have already been picked by your fellow shifters,” Hadrian gestured to the pile, “but there are still some good choices left.”
“They’re beautiful.” I had never seen anything like it. Each had been crafted with detail and beauty. I ran my hand over them, careful not to cut myself on their sharp edges.
My eyes landed on a lump of metal chain that had been pushed to the back corner of the drawer. “What is that?”
“Nothing of importance,” Hadrian lifted the bone dagger, “What about this? The dagger is small enough to be concealed on your person but large enough to penetrate and leave a lasting impression on any enemy.”
I tugged the tangle of metal, ignoring Hadrian and the dagger he held out to me. As I lifted it from the drawer, the tangles of metal unravelled, the metal links chiming together when they fell. “They look like…”