lifted his right hand in front of his face. His dark, wet knuckles glistened in the distant torchlight. "M' hand does 'ting a bit."
"Sir Caleb," Vrell called. "The light, please?"
7
They journeyed over rocky terrain for hours listening to Sir Caleb talk on the sword and shield's strengths over the longsword alone. Achan's feet ached. Sharp pebbles poked into the soles of his boots. Sir Gavin wanted to get to Mirrorstone as quickly as possible. Achan didn't like the fact that more black knights might be shadowing them but could think of no better plan.
The terrain flattened. Sir Gavin stopped in a field carpeted in short, twiggy grass and urged they make camp in the open where no one could sneak up on them so easily. Did that even matter? In Achan's opinion, Darkness provided endless cover for anyone wanting to set up an ambush.
They laid out the bedrolls around a small, blue torchlight. Achan settled onto the stiff leather and nibbled a piece of dry meat. "I still don't understand what happened." He pictured
Eagan
's Elk slicing through the black knight and the man vanishing into green smoke. "The first man I fought was flesh and blood. But the one who picked on Sparrow disappeared as I finished him."
"Deception," Sir Caleb said. "Black knights don't fight fair. Illusion is their biggest strength. And those who call on black spirits can give their apparitions physical form."
Black spirits? A chill raked Achan's arms. "I fought a demon?"
"Nay." Sir Gavin groaned as he sat on his bedroll. "The one with the helm was real. The rest of us were fighting the mage's enchantments. Black knights claim to be warrior mages. They believe sorcery combined with swordsmanship makes them stronger. They're under their own illusion. The power they wield isn't theirs."
Sir Gavin pulled his pack onto his lap and opened the flap. "The spirits aren't in control either. Both creatures, demon and man, are bound by each other's limitations. A man who falls victim to their spell is crippled by fear and rendered an easy target. That's why I stressed you understand the illusion. A very real illusion, but not as terrible as the black knights would have you think."
Sir Caleb squeezed Achan's shoulder, bushy eyebrows raised. "What I want to know is how you aren't dead, Your Highness. I thought you trained him, Gavin."
"I did, but...Achan uses what's at his disposal."
Heat spread over Achan at the idea of Sir Caleb's disapproval. "I thought I fought well."
"As did I," Sparrow said.
Sir Caleb winced. "Aye, you're brave, but you need proper training and practice."
"I competed in Prince Gid --Esek's tournament."
"Did you?" Sir Caleb's lips curled in a half smile. "What events?"
"The short sword and shield, though I'd never--"
"You were risking him to be playing games?" Inko's accusatory tone rang sharp. "What if he was being killed?"
"He should've been, judging by what I saw today," Sir Caleb said.
"He needed experience if he was to survive without me." Sir Gavin winked his brown eye at Achan. "Arman protected him."
"But you were risking him," Inko said. "Our future king."
"He's alive, is he not?"
Inko turned his disapproving glare to Achan. "It often is being said, Your Highness, that some training is being better than no training. But I must be cautioning you, sometimes no training is better than having bad training."
"Bah!" Sir Gavin slapped his palm to his thigh. "I trained him well enough!"
Sir Caleb folded his arms across his chest. "He fights like a drunk in a tavern brawl."
Achan blinked from Sir Gavin to Sir Caleb. A drunk?
"Aye, he's always been a bit of a brawler. I like that about him. Reminds me of his great uncle
Preston
." Sir Gavin sniffed in a long breath and released it slowly. "Forgive me, Achan. I've likely done a shabby job of teaching you to fight proper."
How was this criticism fair? Achan had defeated two of the five black knights. Sparrow had cowered like a girl. If Sir Caleb wanted to point out flaws, he