shoulder, and stones scattered from the heel of her scuffed boot and down the bald track.
“No,” muttered Rikke, closing her eyes. “This hasn’t happened yet.”
“Found you!” shouted Leo in that piping voice with the strange accent, catching hold of Rikke’s foot and dragging her out of the hay.
She’d soon realised they’d be man and woman grown by the time he found her if she’d stayed in her first hiding place, up among the rafters where the pigeons nested. She’d enjoyed looking down on him hunting around the barn, but when he wandered off to look elsewhere she got bored and dropped down, burrowed into the hay and left one boot sticking out where he could see it. Games are only fun if they’re close, after all.
“Took you long enough,” she said.
He was pretty, Rikke thought, even if he wasn’t the cleverest. And he had an odd manner and talked strange. But being brought up in the Union would do that to a boy, maybe, and for pretty you could forgive a lot.
She was glad he was here, anyway. Nice to have someone her age to play with. She liked to pretend she was happiest on her own, but no one is, really. Her da was always busy having the long talks with the grey-bearded bastards where everyone frowned and shook their heads a lot.
Shivers would tell her stories sometimes, about his travels around the Circle of the World and all the different styles o’ strange folk he’d killed there, but she felt there was something odd about a friendship between a little girl and one o’ the most feared warriors in the North. He said he didn’t mind but she didn’t want to push it.
There weren’t many children in Uffrith and those there were thought she was cursed and wouldn’t come near her on account of the fits. Leo didn’t seem worried about the fits. Maybe he would be once he saw her having one. Specially if she shat herself during, which was more often than not, sadly. But there wasn’t much she could do about that. About the fits or the shits.
Rikke had sworn an oath not to worry about the things she couldn’t change, and she took an oath very seriously. Her father always said there was nothing more important than your word, usually while frowning and shaking his head. It was a shame he frowned so much, ’cause when he smiled it lit the world up.
“My turn to hide!” shouted Leo, and he dashed off, slipped and fell, rolled in a shower of hay dust, then scrambled up and disappeared through the barn door. Made Rikke sad, for some reason, to see him go. So sad.
“No,” she said to herself, closing her eyes. “This happened long ago.”
An Infinite Supply
“How’s my stance?” asked Flick, peering over his shoulder at his back foot.
“We’ll get to your stance,” said Clover.
“In about a year, at this rate,” muttered Downside, holding the edge of his axe up to the sunlight then polishing away at it again.
“If you last a year.” Sholla frowned as she tried to cut the finest slice of cheese imaginable with that long, thin knife of hers.
“Don’t listen to this sorry pair,” said Clover. “We’ll get to your stance. But always bear in mind, if your sword’s drawn, you’ve already made at least one mistake.”
“Eh?” said Flick, squinting at Clover over the wobbling point of his blade.
“Unless you’re cleaning it, or sharpening it, or maybe selling it.”
“What if you’re in a battle?”
“Then you’ve made at least two mistakes, possibly a lot more. A battle’s no place for a self-respecting warrior. But if you must attend one, at least have the good taste to be where the fighting isn’t.”
“What if some bastard tries to kill you?”
“Ideally, you’d have worked that out a while back and done ’em first, preferably while they’re asleep. That’s what knives are for.”
“That and slicing cheese,” said Sholla, lifting her knife towards her mouth with furious concentration, a cheese-shaving so fine it was almost see-through clinging to the flat. A spring gust came through the courtyard just as it was getting to her lips and blew it away like thistledown, left her clutching helpless at the air.
“That’s the thing about knives,” said Clover. “Cheap to get and with endless applications. Swords are dear as all hell and they’ve got just the one, and it’s one every man should avoid.”
Flick crunched up his face. “You’re sort of talking yourself out of a job here, far as the