Aien arrived at the gde before the Armsmasters. Alone, but not in the way he had expected.

  He decided to camp out there, even if it would affect his sleep. Walking the way back to Eruin and finding himself an inn for the night would be easy; Uruoro and Gima wouldn’t run into him, not when they were in the opposite side of the bay. Still, he preferred to avoid the risk of being missed by the Armsmasters. He didn’t know this Yshnim and so couldn’t be sure how well she would keep to her word.

  Sleep came in waves. Brief, vague and nonsensical dreams interrupted by his starting awake at every sound, sword to his side and a dagger in his hand. No fire to keep his legs warm, but the cold wasn’t chilly enough for him to bother with one right now.

  When morning came, the birds woke him up and this time didn’t let him sleep again.

  His body ached for a practice session, too used to having that first exercise in the morning to wake himself up. He was used to light meals, but that morning his body desired more. The ck of things to occupy himself with allowed his mind to wander and he could do without that as well.

  All mistakes. All of it.

  By the time the Armsmaster’s arrived, he was stressed and weary.

  Thankfully no other travelers bothered him until then. When he heard the sound of horse’s hooves approaching in a calm walk, he stared up to where the road gave easy access to gde. A little ter, they appeared.

  Four riders, all wearing the white cloak. Aien took a good look as they drew into the clearing. The Armsmaster’s mounted big animals, not warhorses, but still big; in some ways they looked like what he expected, but not in others.

  Riding by Yshnim’s side was a blonde man, his hair a long braid, white skin and a handsome face in a squarish way. The two that came behind them, riding side by side, were younger. A redhead girl with hair almost bright orange that barely reached her jawline and a boy whose hair was a mess of small brown curls, his body on the scrawny side. Still, they were both wearing the white cloaks.

  “You’re here,” Yshnim shouted as they drew to a stop. The others gnced back and forth between Yshnim and Aien.

  She didn’t tell them?

  Yshnim unmounted with practiced ease, giving the reins to the scrawny boy before approaching.

  Aien stood up to meet her.

  And found he didn’t know what to say.

  Not now, Aien. Keep yourself under control.

  “Good morning,” he forced himself to say. “How was the job?”

  “Plenty dead; none of ours. Lord Caron has his bandits behinds bars and the mothers have their children back home safely. We might tell you more, ter, if you pass.”

  What an irony.

  Without looking back, Yshnim made a gesture, raising a hand to call the others. The orange-haired girl was the first to approach, the others following a step behind. They had already tied the horse’s reins to nearby trees.

  Now that they were closer, Aien could see that the blonde man was a Second Bde. He carried a spear resting against his shoulder and a dagger at his belt. The girl had daggers and the boy a spear and round-shield. Neither had an insignia hanging in their chest. Recruits.

  “This is Aien Bashek,” Yshnim introduced him. “He wishes to join us.”

  “You could have told us about this,” the girl said.

  “I decided not to, Ren, in the off-chance that you keep it in the back of your head and that distracts you.”

  The boy nodded at him, he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the girl —Ren —, both of which were a little shorter than Yshnim. The blonde man was as tall as Aien, though clearly older, perhaps in his thirties like Yshnim herself. He regarded Aien with a measuring stare, neither welcoming nor disapproving.

  “I wouldn’t have,” Ren defended herself. “I would rather know.”

  Yshnim gnced at Ren. “That is for me to decide. I trust you in plenty of ways, but not in all of them. Not yet.” She turned to the other two. “Igbol. Trystan. Care to prepare a meal? We’ll share with Aien.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Aien said, as the men made their way back to the horses with their belongings.

  “She can shove it down your throat if she wants, you know,” Ren said.

  Ignoring her, Yshnim signaled for them to follow with her head. Ren kept an eye on him as they took a few steps closer to the center of the gde. Aien noticed that the Second Bde — Igbol, he assumed, since Yshnim had said his name first — was also staring at him, though he turned back to the satchels after Yshnim stopped walking and turned to stare at Aien again. Does he have some problem with me?

  “How serious can you get in a duel, Aien?”

  “Quite serious.” He had to slow down when sparring with Kaye, but Yshnim had called it a duel.

  Forget her.

  “Good. Ren, your issue is that you often get too serious. Try to match him. I don’t want any serious wounds. From either of you.”

  Saying that, Yshnim distanced herself, arms hanging down to her sides.

  Ren took the vacant position in front of Aien, drawing her bdes. A parrying dagger and a rondel. Aien unsheathed his sword at the same time.

  She dashed towards him the moment the steel was released. Aien fell into his defensive stance, parrying the horizontal ssh as he took a step back. She followed up with a series of feints, a twist of her right shoulder, a half-step forward there, threatening to try something. Aien tilted his sword every time, but kept the movement to a minimum, waiting for her.

  Then, she simply walked forward, entering his range with a callousness that didn’t match her serious expression.

  He sshed towards her legs, but she reached for his bde mid-air with the parrying dagger, catching the rger bde between two of the teeth.

  Aien pulled away. Ren followed, keeping her dagger’s grip on his sword. With a hand on the pommel, he swung the bde as hard as he could to one side then down, managing to release it.

  Her ssh caught him the left forearm and he could tell it had intentionally been a superficial cut.

  Ren didn’t give him time to reassure himself, following it up with a series of sshes that sent him retreating, trying to parry with the upper section of his sword to keep her away, but the girl seemed to have no respect for the superior reach of his sword.

  From the few fights Aien had seen Loho in, this was the moment he would suddenly change his approach to catch the enemy off-guard.

  Pnting a foot firmly on the ground, Aien thrusted forward. Ren fell for the feint, raising her parrying dagger.

  Aien stopped the sword earlier, pulling it back as he stepped forward, thrusting at her legs, barely reminding himself of Yshnim’s warning in time.

  Somehow, Ren caught up to him and twisted, parrying dagger drawing an arc to catch his sword — when had she reversed the grip? — with enough momentum to divert the thrust. She released his bde herself, dashing towards his open side.

  She’s going to get me and I’m going to lose. The though fshed in Aien’s mind.

  Aien put all his strength in pulling the sword back to block in his defensive stance.

  It wasn’t fast enough.

  Instead of looking to block, he simply pulled, throwing his body one way and the sword in another, the ssh would catch up with Ren in the st time and he couldn’t do anything to keep it from hurting.

  She kicked him, bottom of her boot against his shin, throwing him off-bance. He hit a knee against the ground, regaining some of his bance, then tried to resume the ssh, aiming diagonally from down to up.

  He didn’t care how much she would get hurt. He couldn’t lose this chance.

  Ren reacted to it too fast, this time with a kick from her other leg, outstretched so the tip of her boot dug into his side. Pain shot through his midsection. Aien couldn’t keep himself from doubling over. His ssh lost alignment and momentum.

  I can’t lose this chance.

  He pushed himself against the ground with his one foot that was still pnted firmly, pnning on throwing himself away to resume fighting.

  By the time Aien finished raising his head, she came into a view closer to him and to the side, hooking one foot behind his leg, pulling as he pushed. Aien’s knee bent and he fell hard on his back, limbs sprawled, sword to his side.

  Cold steel touched his neck. Aien tried to move, but something was too heavy. He looked, and saw that Ren had his sword pinned to the ground under one foot.

  “Enough,” Yshnim said, harsh and final. She approached as she continued, “You’re far from incompetent, Aien Bashek, but you think too much about the sword in your hand and not enough about everything else. You took too long to try and set your pace, and by then Ren was walking circles around you. Literally.”

  Ren removed her foot from the sword, but remained where she was, too close for him to stand up comfortably. The girl was staring down at him, daggers still in her hands.

  “I was studying her, looking for an opening. I wanted to understand her pace and go against it.”

  “That is good thinking, I won’t fault you for that, but you are lying with your back on the ground now. That means your pn didn’t work out. Was this a fight, you’d be dead.”

  When Aien made to stand up, Ren retreated just enough to give him room to sit. He rested an arm on his knee for a moment, fighting to keep himself from wincing at the pain that shot up from his back. Breathing was a little hard. He must have hurt something when he fell.

  “In a fight, you’d be dead,” Yshnim repeated, reaching a hand out to him.

  It pissed him off.

  He wasn’t properly rested and everything continued to work against him. The only person who he felt an equal to now hated him, and here he was. Being hurt and thrown to the ground and them having the obvious stated to him as if he didn’t understand any of it.

  Reaching out a hand? Just to tell him off afterwards? Aien would have none of it.

  I can find another Armsmaster.

  Aien pushed himself to stand.

  Yshnim pulled her hand back and drove one foot forward into his chest, sending him to the ground again. He blinked and coughed at the pain, tightening the grip on his sword’s hilt.

  “Here’s my first lesson to you, Aien Bashek. When someone reaches out their hand to you, you take it. Understood?”

  Aien stared up at her, hand outstretched and leaning closer now.

  His confusion must have showed.

  “I never said you had to win,” Yshnim expined.

  He took her hand. Yshnim pulled him up with a strong grip. She pulled a lot more than just his body.

  Aien stood there for a moment, sword awkwardly held to his side. Ren said something he missed in his stupor. When he sheathed the bde again, both women were walking away from him and towards their companions.

  Yshnim looked over her shoulder. A woman who he thought of as nothing but stern, yet in that moment she was smiling, one brow arched in a question.

  Aien took a step forward.