everything.”
Inken laughed. “I’ll bet,” she sniped, but let the subject drop.
They rounded the corner of a building and found themselves at the end of the garden. In the distance the dormitory’s shale roof gleamed in the morning sun. The far-off ring of steel blades carried to their ears. Beside her, Inken straightened and reached for her sabre. Enala edged closer to the woman.
Enala searched the grassy lawns ahead, her eyes picking out two figures battling in front of the dormitory. They both stopped dead as they recognised the fighters. Gabriel and Eric were locked in furious combat, swords slashing at one another as they stumbled on the icy grass.
Inken moved first, her long legs eating up the distance. Enala trotted after her, reaching out to grab her shoulder. “Wait,” she said, pointing.
Inken tore herself free, but glanced towards where Enala pointed.
Caelin stood nearby, arms folded as he watched the two with an amused grin. Enala could practically hear Inken’s teeth grinding as she switched directions and headed for the sergeant.
Enala could not help but grin. “Like you said, Inken. Maybe they can work it out themselves.”
*************
Eric rubbed his hands against his arms, struggling to warm himself. A shiver ran down his back as the wind whipped past. “What are we doing?” he asked through chattering teeth.
Caelin stood with hands on his hips. “Jurrien paid me a visit this morning. Apparently you need another way to protect yourself, Eric,” he turned to Gabriel. “And I’m sure you could use blowing off a little steam.”
Eric glanced at Gabriel, heart sinking at the mention of Jurrien. The sun shone across the nearby rooftops, but they stood in the shade, the frost still thick at their feet. Eric already missed the gentle warmth of the fire burning in the lounge. The sky shone with the bright blue of morning, without a hint of cloud.
Caelin tossed a long bundle of cloth to the ground in front of them. It rattled as it struck, unravelling to reveal a collection of swords.
“These are practice blades. They’re lead weighted, but the edges and tips have been blunted, so you shouldn’t be able to damage each other too much.”
As he spoke, he drew his own sword and beckoned Eric closer. Eric moved across to him, but stepped back as Caelin flicked the sword into the air and caught it by the blade.
He held it out to Eric. “First though, this is yours, Eric. It saved my life in Malevolent Cove, but I know Alastair would have wanted you to have it. Make him proud.”
Heart pounding in his chest, Eric reached out and gripped the hilt. The worn leather felt warm and the short sword light in his hand. It shone in the morning sun, revealing the faint traces of runes etched in the metal. Eric looked closer, but could not make out the writing. He guessed it must be something to do with the spell on the blade, which protected its user from magic.
Remembering himself, he grinned up at Caelin. “Thank you, Caelin. I will.”
“What did you want with me?” Gabriel asked.
Caelin’s eyes turned on Gabriel. “I thought you might enjoy being Eric’s sparring partner.”
Eric made to object, but Gabriel beat him too it. “Why would I want to help him? ”
Caelin met Gabriel’s stare. Eric looked from one to another. “Maybe because we saved you, pulled you from the ocean waters rather than leave you to drown. Or because we rescued Enala, when you had failed her,” Caelin paused, a sly look in his eyes. “Or perhaps you’d just like the chance to land a few blows on the boy.”
Gabriel glared at Caelin, then shrugged his shoulders and approached the pile of weapons. Retrieving a practice blade, he stepped in front of Eric. “Well, let’s see what you’re made of then.”
Eric scowled back. Gritting his teeth, he stepped around Gabriel and found a practice blade of his own. Lifting the heavy weapon, he laid Alastair’s blade by the pile of swords. As he turned