Page 38 of Bull Moon Rising

The basics aresurprisingly difficult. I’m supposed to hold a sword tightly, but not too tightly. I’m supposed to keep my wrist loose, but not too loose. I’m to stab with expertise, but not slash, and pull back quickly. I’m to avoid bones so my weapon doesn’t get caught in them. I’m not to twist, or jerk, because I can just as easily snap my own wrist as I can stab a ratling.

By the time we’re done, my arms are throbbing and I want to stab Kipp with my blade, because the slitherskin is a bit of a show-off. It’s clear he knows how to do everything already, and I’ve caught him looking at my grip as I do exercises, an expression of dismay and disgust on his face.

So I’m not good with a stabby little sword. I’m positive I have other skills that can be of use. It’s fine.

Gwenna’s good with weapons, though. “Just like stabbing a roast that keeps sliding across the pan,” she declared confidently as she jabbed a stuffed leather dummy. “Or a man who won’t shut up.”

Lark hooted at that. I didn’t find it quite so funny, mostly because I’m bollocks at stabbing. I don’t like being terrible at things. I prefer to dothings I excel at, like reading books and studying ancient languages. The sheer physicality of being a fledgling is starting to intimidate me.

I wonder if I’ve gotten in over my head. If I’ve made a mistake. But what other options do I have?

None. So I need to stop whining and simply get better at everything.

Hawk forces us to lunge and jab, stabbing at the leather dummies until my shoulders and arms ache. My calves ache, too, from all the lunging and the hiking from earlier. By the time we put our weapons away, I’m ready to pass out again.

“Break for the evening,” Hawk finally says. “We’ll pick up with our hiking at dawn. Be ready.”

“It’s supposed to rain in the morning,” Mereden pipes up, her voice timid. “It doesn’t rain in the caves.”

“Oooh, she’s got you there,” Lark crows. “I think I’m hearing a day off.”

“I think I’m hearing a bunch of lazy students,” Hawk retorts.

“Not lazy,” Gwenna says. “Opportunistic.”

Hawk shrugs his big shoulders. “Fine. If you want to avoid the rain, we’ll stay in and do weapons practice. You need to learn to fight in low light or none at all, so we’ll be using blindfolds.”

I groan aloud.

Hawk turns to me, quirking that impossibly heavy eyebrow. “Not enjoying practice?”

“It’s fine,” I say, determined not to be the problem here. “That was a positive groan.”

“No such thing.”

“Very much so. I love sword work,” I enthuse, lying through my teeth. “It was a groan of…of pleasure.”

Hawk stares at me. Just…stares.

Lark grabs Gwenna and Mereden each by the arms. “Let’s get out of here before the newly married teacher shows his wife his ‘sword work.’ ”

“Ew,” says Mereden, casting an appalled look in my direction.

And I blush, my face hot and my stance awkward. Apparently talking about groans of pleasure and sword work wasn’t the way to handle things. I watch as the others file out of the room, Kipp snagging his house and slinging the massive shell over his back before trotting after them. It’s just me and Hawk in the room now.

Teacher and student.

Husband and wife.

Definitely not a complication I expected to have.

Hawk just continues to stare at me, his gaze hot. He hasn’t moved a muscle, but I still feel intensely aware of his scrutiny. It’s like he’s looking right through my clothing and it makes me quiver deep inside. I wipe a drop of sweat from my brow. “I…should go bathe.”

“You should,” he agrees, voice low and smooth.

Nodding, I race out of the practice room and run for the stairs…only to pause. When is it going to get through my head that I’m staying with him and not Gwenna? That I’m married now? Slowly, I turn around and head back toward Hawk’s quarters, trying to compose myself. I can do this. It’s fine. I enter the room and I’m relieved to find that it’s empty.

A short time later, I’m less relieved. How exactly does one bathe oneself? Surely there’s an easier way than simply dropping pitcher after pitcher of warmed-up water into the copper tub in front of the hearth? That’s entirely too much work and I’m far too fatigued to even consider such a thing. I stand in front of the tub (with less than a finger of water at the bottom) because two pitchers in, I realize this could take some time and I don’t have the energy for it.