With the release of Resolved, here’s the first chapter
A sparing match
A stray drop of rainwater traced its way down Siobhan’s cheek, but she ignored it, her attention focused completely on Kyeth. Even Tiarnan’s strident voice couldn’t sway her. She allowed her boots to sink into the sand as she prepared for the cannonsea’s attack.
It came swift and brutal as was his custom—direct and to the point. Instead of taking the brunt of his swing, she sidestepped and slashed, but he was as ready for her strike as she’d been for his. Scuffing her feet through the sand, she rounded to face him again. Kyeth mirrored her, his blade at the ready. Their eyes locked. In that moment she knew she’d been correct—he wasn’t going to let the council claim she’d not earned her victory. He would test her in truth. And that meant he believed, in truth, that she could beat him.
His charge came before she was ready, his blade seeking her weaknesses, probing forcing her to focus on her defense to the exclusion of all else. She sidestepped, parried, turned aside a thrust, but then she wavered as Tiarnan’s voice carried over the pounding of the rain on the canvas, “I can’t believe this.”
Padraig hushed him, but the distraction was enough for Kyeth to use his larger frame to push through the strength of her arms and collapse them. In the space of a thought, Siobhan had gone from a sturdy stance to a tenuous, straining effort to push his blade away with her own. And within another heartbeat she felt that she’d not hold out. He was too strong, even if he hadn’t been in the superior position, and already the steel edge was barely a hand away from her own face.
Remembering her early lessons, she abruptly realized how heavily Kyeth had sunk his weigh into his front foot. He wouldn’t be able to move it easily, and that made it a target. She planted her heel decisively on the arch of his foot and ground down.
He grunted and retreated, a wry hint of a smile on his face. This gave her the opportunity she needed to think and collect her frazzled offense.
Gripping her sword, she sifted through her options: head on, wait to counter, or feint. With Kyeth’s current attitude, straight on would be foolhardy. A feint had sealed her victory in past matches, but she doubted ‘twould work this moonstep. He knew her tendency toward that tactic and would be expecting it. Counter? It didn’t seem appropriate with the council watching. This match was for Mairead, to prove that her daughter had a right to defend herself against the world. That deserved a stronger statement than waiting for an opportunity to strike. She wanted to make her own chance for victory.
Kyeth approached, and the two circled. He attacked again with a rising slash that she dodged by shifting one foot back, putting her body parallel to the path of the blade. Kyeth lost no time coming back with a heavy strike from above. This time she stepped right and raised her elbows to either side of her face, letting her sword slant down over her left shoulder. The angel of it sent Kyeth’s weapon skittering down and aside. As soon as the blades parted she shifted her feet once more and moved immediately into a thrust of her own. Kyeth jumped back, arching his back to avoid the point in his stomach, which stole his balance and made him scramble as she followed it up, slashing, feinting, and thrusting again, just as he had done only moments before, but when he tried to launch a counterattack she saw—no, felt—it coming and slid aside and in, closing distance as his back struck the wooden rail of the arena. Her blade froze a handbreadth from his chest, her heart alight with triumphant pride.
“Well done,” he whispered.
A round of applause filled with whoops and hollers pulled her from the battle focus. With a deep breath, she turned lowering her sword. The Rittider were on their feet their riotous cheers filling the air. She saluted them, feeling the smile stretching across her face.
“Chay la Jeeah!” The motto resounded off the blacksmith’s forge, the walls of the armory; even from the baily she could hear the echo come back, so far did their shout carry. She never heard it anymore without being reminded of how she’d become part of their number—how their pledge had changed to include her, their queen.
The Rittider respond
Lugh smiled and nodded. The other council members closed their mouths and stirred, looking at one another with varying levels of discomfort and shock.
“Bani, ‘twas an excellent bout to watch! Cannonsea, ‘twouldn’t have wanted to be in your shoes.” A swarthy-complexioned man with a scar running along his jawline leaned against the railing that separated the ring from the rest of the training center.
“Do I need to give you a beating again, Gareth?” Siobhan asked with a laugh.
“Nah, but mayhap one of those men could use one.” He eyed the council members with a scowl. “They don’t look like they belong here, excepting the jiddee’adar, of course.”
Siobhan sighed. “’Tisn’t their business to be here, but I couldn’t take any more of their pestering. Kyeth thought this would be a way to silence them.”
“Pestering, Bani?”
Siobhan’s next words came out with a heavier growl than she’d intended. “They want to take Mairead away from the training grounds.”
“What?” His face reddened. “Just let them try.”
Kyeth lay his sword against his shoulder, an accustomed spot to rest it. “I think Bani showed them what they needed to see.”
Mairead ran up to them, her dark-haired head bobbing with the exuberance only a girl of eight synods could emit. “Momma, you were wonderful!” she cried, flinging herself into Siobhan’s hug. “So were you, Kyeth, but Momma’s better.”
The cannonsea ruffled Mairead’s hair. “Only because I taught her.”
“And you’ll train me, too, won’t you?”
“Aye, princess, ‘twill be an honor. For now, though, there are some duene who need to speak with your mother.” Kyeth offered Siobhan his arm, along with an encouraging smile. “Shall we, Ban’frensee?”
She didn’t want to let this moment fade. The peace she always felt at the training ground seemed tainted by the presence of her meddlesome council. But there was no better time than now.
Kyeth waited for her to take the first step, but he leaned across and whispered, “If you can best me, you know you can put them in their place.”
With a nod, Siobhan placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, and together they strode across the sand to face the men.
The council weighs in
“Kyeth, why did you allow her to beat you?” Tiarnan crossed his arms. “You’re the cannonsea after all.”
“Allow?” Kyeth chuckled. “Let me find a jerkin for you, and you’ll see for yourself.”
The councilor’s frown deepened. “What? Me, fight a lady?”
“Under this roof, all are fighters regardless of gender.” Kyeth kept the other’s gaze until Tiarnan looked away.
“But,” the councilor stared at the floor, “a princess isn’t like a commoner.”
“I should hope not.” Siobhan stepped forward, her ire rising despite her best efforts. “However, she has every right to be able to protect herself as any prince would.”
“I don’t believe that’s the issue, Banfrensee.” Padraig placed his hands on his knees and pushed off, coming to his feet with a grunt. “If I understood correctly, ‘twasn’t so much that the princess has been spending time around the training center.”
Tiarnan scowled, but Padraig forged ahead. “’Tis that our princess has been stating that she’s ready to become a scubhear-in-training herself.”
“And why not?” Siobhan slid her sword into its sheath before she started gesturing with it. That wouldn’t go over well—the queen skewering one of her council members.
“Banfrensee!” Tiarnan motioned around the room. “Surely, you’re not saying ‘tis a proper place for a princess?”
Hadn’t she just proved ‘twas acceptable?
“Tiarnan, when you’re a father, you can have the say over your child. I am Mairead’s mother—the only parent she has.” She clenched her hand around the pommel of her sword. “And unless you are calling me an unfit parent, then I say that my daughter can train here and be raised as a prince—or princess—deserves.”
Padraig patted Tiarnan on the shoulder. “I do believe the queen has made her point. She’s proven herself able to defend herself, and,” he paused gazing around at the Rittider who all seemed to have taken guard positions around Mairead, “I see nothing inappropriate for a young lady. Which leads me to assume this is a safe place for a princess to learn—probably the safest in the kingdom.”
Dughlas chuckled. “Pardon, duene, but he does have a point. Where else but with the royal bodyguards would a princess be protected best?”
Tiarnan sighed. “Very well, but I still don’t think ‘tis appropriate. A lady should be busy with needlework and keeping a home, not fighting.”
Siobhan reigned her voice into tight control. “If this lady was only busy with needlework and keeping a home, you’d have no one to rule your country, duene.” She took a shallow breath. “Mairead will be queen in my absence. Therefore, she must learn to fight, as well as govern.”
“Aye, Banfrensee.” Tiarnan nodded. “Mayhap you’re right.”
Mayhap? Of course, she was correct! But saying anything now, ‘twould send the man back to arguing.
Mairead glanced between the councilors and Siobhan, then with a decisive step forward, she curtsied to the councilors. “Thank you, duene.”
The men smiled at her attempt of propriety, despite her trousers and training tunic.
“You’re welcome, Kailah,” Padraig bowed, and then ushered the rest out.
Lugh stood slowly, and his smile was visible even through his thick white beard. “Well done, Inene.”
‘Twasn’t until the door closed, that Siobhan felt her shoulders release the remaining tension.
Mairead’s reply
“Momma?” Mairead grasped her hand. “Does that mean I can continue to be a scubhear-in-training, and one step become a scubhear?”
Seamus stepped forward. “Kailah, let me show you to your weapon.”
With a light in her eyes, Mairead nodded, and followed the Rittider away. Siobhan watched, contented. It’d been worth every part of the fight with the council to allow her daughter the freedom she herself had longed for as a young princess.
“Look, Momma!” Mairead ran out of the armory, but Seamus stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.
“The first thing you must learn is to not run in the training grounds with a weapon in your hand. There’ll come a time where you’ll practice running, but not with a bare sword unless you are in battle and plan to use it to defend your kingdom.”
“Aye, Seamus.”
“Siobhan, I thought you said you’d give me a beating this step.” Gareth leaned against the wall, his sword at his side. “Or did the cannonsea take all your fight out?”
“My momma can beat you any step, Gareth.” Mairead turned to the Rittider.
“Let her prove it, cahleen.”
With a wink at her daughter, Siobhan bowed. “Let Seamus teach you the caine while I put a Rittider in his place.”
