Fear of Fire and Shadow (The Fade #1) - Samantha Young Page 0,23
from the men behind me and prayed that none of them were very ill.
When Wolfe stopped for lunch, it was in a massive, open field. In the distance we saw cows and sheep in neighboring farmlands. The grass was as green as green could be, as green as a master painter’s imagination, and a single, beautiful willow tree attracted the men as they dismounted. Some gathered around it, talking and laughing as they sipped thirstily from their canteens and munched on bread we had bought from the people of Woodmill.
I fed Midnight an apple and then left her to graze with the men. I required a moment of peace. Alone. I didn’t wander far. They were still in sight, but now their voices were mere murmurs on the wind.
I noted Wolfe sitting with Chaeron and a few others as they ate oatcakes and laughed together. I shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling that perhaps I’d misjudged Wolfe and had unjustifiably blamed him for his father’s deeds. So far he had proven himself to be strong and fair. His men loved him, obeyed and trusted him, despite his young age.
Surely that said much of his character.
Thoughts of my parents, however, caused guilt to roil in my gut. I could never trust a Stovia. If I felt this strongly—this hateful—toward Syracen for what he had done, surely Wolfe felt the same way toward me for exposing Syracen’s evil.
Frowning, I wrenched my attention from the captain and grew interested in two soldiers who appeared to be training. They parried and thrust with their swords—easy, fluid, strong. I’d always wanted to learn how to sword fight, but it was considered inappropriate for a lady to do so.
I realized that I’d probably never have a better excuse to thumb my nose at convention than I did now.
I lifted my skirts and strode toward the two soldiers.
“Officer Stark, isn’t it?” I enquired as I came upon them. “And Officer Reith?”
They seemed surprised that I knew them by name, but I had an excellent memory.
“My lady.” They both offered polite bows.
“Please.” I held up my hands. “It’s Rogan. Or”—I noted their appalled looks—“Miss Rogan, if you must. But I’m not lady anything.”
“Miss Rogan,” Officer Stark said, clearing his throat, “how can we assist you?”
I wasn’t a terribly good flirt, but I had learned from Haydyn that a soft smile went a long way. And she was right. They seemed to puff their chests under my feminine attention. “I was watching you train; you’re both very good.”
They flushed and murmured their thanks. I calculated their heights with the happy realization they were the perfect men for the task in mind. Not too tall nor too broad.
“I wonder if you might teach me how to use a sword.”
Reith’s jaw dropped before he remembered himself and smoothed his expression. “A sword, Miss Rogan?”
I offered him an even sweeter smile in gratitude for calling me Miss Rogan. “Yes. Nothing too difficult, of course, but I do think with us traveling into Alvernia that it might be of use for me to know how to defend myself.”
The men shared a look, and I was relieved to see they weren’t too shocked by the idea. In fact, Officer Stark nodded determinedly. “If you wish it, Miss Rogan, then we shall teach you.”
I grinned, excited, unable to believe they had acquiesced so easily. I was so used to being treated like Haydyn, like I was a piece of precious glass that would shatter at the slightest touch.
Reith, the shorter of the two, approached. He drew close as Stark spoke of eight basic angles of attack while Reith demonstrated where they were on my body. Then he walked behind and leaned into me as he held out the sword. “You must learn to hold it just so,” he said as he wrapped his hand over mine around the hilt.
So engrossed in their teachings, laughing with them as I thrust the sword like a limp noodle, I didn’t hear his approach.
“What the bloody hell is going on?”
Reith jumped away from me as if I were poisonous, his face flushing guiltily.