recognised the slightly proprietorial look in her eyes.
"Your home," Camille said while nodding in a direction Helgaer had already, with the surety of a migrating bird, marked.
Helgaer turned, quickly scanned the forest beneath them and pointed at a smaller peak below them. "Yours."
Camille nodded with satisfaction.
Helgaer traced, as best she could, her path down from Vreeland, working out roughly where the bandits had attacked her—and her, the bandits. The distance she had travelled with the crossbow bolt still stuck in her side impressed even her.
Her hand went unconsciously to the wound.
"How is it feeling?"
Camille had appeared to be still looking out across her hunting range, but had missed nothing.
"It is not paining me at all. I was remembering."
Camille walked over to her side, scanning the forests quickly before pointing. "The bandit camp was there, on the other side of that ridge." It was exactly where Helgaer had worked out it would be.
"Why did you come to my aid?"
Camille was silent for just a second too long before shrugging off-handedly. "I hate bandits. And a woman, alone, fighting so well? I thought that was a person I should meet."
"Fighting so well? You asked me if I wanted to die."
"You made a nearly fatal mistake."
"The unexpected can happen to anyone. Nobody should let fear control their actions."
Camille's lip twisted. She unslung her bow, placing it with care on the ground, then began unrolling her cloth parcel.
Inside were Helgaer's practice sword, and a similar, older, wooden sword. Helgaer stared at Camille in astonishment.
"I bought this with me all the way from the Gharaj camp," Camille said, holding her sword up to examine it. "It's still good." She stood up, holding both swords. "Do you feel like some sparring?"
Helgaer stared at her for a second, then began untying pouches from her belt.
Helgaer took her vest off before accepting her sword from Camille.
She had not truly analysed Camille the way Tola had taught her to analyse opponents. She had seen the way Camille moved, and how she placed her feet, and knew she had not ignored that, but she had not truly studied Camille. She studied her now.
Camille moved lightly and smoothly, as Helgaer had been expecting, her feet gliding lightly over the ground, reacting instantly to obstacles. She held herself loosely, giving herself room to move.
Vreelanders fought with strength and precision, preferring simple and direct movements to clever tricks. Girls and boys are both taught to use staves, but not to try and spin them or lose sight of the ends. Every movement should be an attack or a defence—both, if possible.
Camille moved more than Helgaer. She was happy moving her wrist, the point of her sword pointing at Helgaer while she moved the hilt to angle the blade.
Helgaer, not one to wait for her opponent to make the first move, attacked strongly, cutting up at Camille's wrist.
Camille beat the blade aside easily with her own, riposting but withdrawing the attack when Helgaer easily pulled back out of range. She moved her entire body, lots of little movements all adding together.
Camille probed Helgaer's defences, the tip of her sword darting for Helgaer's chest. Helgaer twisted away from the attack as she cut at Camille's wrist.
Camille's eyes widened slightly as she leapt sideways away from the counter-attack.
Helgaer swung to follow her, keeping her shoulders and hips aligned, the point of her sword tracking the centre of Camille's sternum now.
Camille twisted her sword around to catch and divert Helgaer's blade. Helgaer pulled back just far enough to disengage, then attacked again.
Camille tried to disarm Helgaer by binding her sword. Helgaer retreated, face neutral but giving Camille a nod of recognition.
Helgaer knew she was stronger than Camille, and almost faster, but Camille was a trickier swordswoman who presented less of a direct danger and was easy to block, but might trap Helgaer's blade or, if they fought