The Seer And The Sword Read Online Free Page B

room to argue.
    She took Ancilla’s hand. They followed a track to the meadow, where wild flowers grew. There the girl threw herself on the ground among fragrant blossoms.
    ‘I want to learn to shoot!’ she burst out.
    Ancilla carefully lowered herself to the grass.
    ‘My little Torina. There will always be warriors. Be glad you don’t have to be one of them.’
    Torina sniffed. ‘How will I keep my kingdom if I don’t know how to fight?’
    Ancilla sighed. ‘You know, my dear, that I’m very old?’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘For all my years, what have I learned? That there will always be enough killers. Leave the killing to them. Wherever you find something good, help it grow.’
    Torina caressed a flower with her finger. She brought her face near the beautiful, fragile thing.
    ‘I wish I could take these flowers home and help them grow. But they don’t need me.’
    Her grandmother smiled. ‘When the seeds fall in a few weeks, we’ll gather some. You can have a flower garden.’
    ‘Gramere, if I were a boy, they would train me to keep my kingdom. They must believe someone else will rule.’
    ‘Yes. The man you marry.’
    Torina bent her eyes on the flowers, thinking of her mother. Dreea was always quietly occupied and seldom tried to influence what happened. In her mind, Torina tried on such a life. She saw herself in her mother’s place, weaving patiently, watching and waiting for a king.
    She knew she could never live that way.
    The grand seltec competition was scheduled. Several days of archery, knife-throwing and matched combat, attended by crowds of Archeldans who would feast, relax, and cheer their favourites.
    Landen wrestled with the knowledge that his public humiliation would be great. He could hardly beat even the youngest boys in combat. All his early training went against it: he’d been taught to be compassionate and thoughtful, to give everyone a chance. And though he was determined to break his old habits, the maxim of his childhood,
Do no one harm
, echoed in his mind when he stood opposite an opponent.
    He was utterly ignorant of how to use a staff. Fencing was something he’d learned as an art, usingdelicate foils. In Archeld, the boys fought all-out battles with heavy wooden swords. Landen had never been taught how to throw a dagger. Though naturally fleet of foot, the toll of his captivity had slowed him. He could handle a horse as well as anyone, yet Archeldan customs in horsemanship confused him.
    One late afternoon during the time the boys were excused for rest or chores, Landen sought out Emid. He walked the now familiar paths from barracks to practice field, taking pleasure in the cool shade of dancing greenery.
    As he moved into the glare of the practice field, he saw Emid sitting alone, feathering arrows. The trainer’s deep frown made him appear forbidding. Emid was gruff at the best of times. His shouts could pierce some hollow core in every boy. But Emid was fair. There were even moments when Landen believed this fierce man, who focused on training the fearsome fighting force of Archeld, actually liked him.
    Landen consciously slowed his breathing as he approached Emid, reminding himself what his father had taught him:
The moment is vast
.
    ‘What is it?’ Emid asked, expertly testing a feather.
    ‘I’ve come to ask if I can be excused from the seltec.’
    Emid’s frown intensified. ‘Why?’
    ‘I never learned to fight.’
    Emid glared. ‘Every man should learn to fight.’
    ‘True,’ Landen agreed. ‘I want to learn, and I will. But, as you see, I wasn’t taught before: nothing but archery and fencing and how to ride. It wasnever serious, never in order to overcome someone.’
    The trainer sighed, his face softening. ‘Young man, many boys have come to me over the years to ask exclusion. I’ve never granted it.’ He paused, waiting for a reply. Landen only looked at him. ‘I suggest you find someone willing to help teach you. You can have use of practice items at any