Ember nodded, tightening her grip on the wheel’s handle.
“And as a general rule you’ll want to kill, not maim, your enemy,” he continued. “If you want to cut something off, go for the head.”
That made her turn, expecting that he was teasing her, but his expression was serious.
Seeing her surprise, he said, “Hesitation will get you killed.”
Barrow’s eyes moved off her. It was only the sound of the creature’s feet squelching on the damp ground that told Ember he’d given Lora some sort of silent signal.
Ember wheeled around to find the mud thing lunging at her. Drawing a sharp breath, she spun around, lifting her blades in a sweeping arc. The wheels hit their mark, slicing through the creature’s neck. Its head toppled to the ground and a moment later its body collapsed into a pile of slop.
She was still breathing hard when Barrow came to her side.
“You listen and you learn quickly,” he said. “Well done. I think you’re ready for more of a challenge. That will be all, Lora. Thank you.”
Lora bowed and, after covering her head with the robe’s hood once more, quit the field.
“Put your weapons aside,” Barrow told Ember as he unstrapped his own sword belt.
When she hesitated, he said, “You’re still acting on instinct, which is fine. But you’ll need to use your mind in battle as well as your will to survive. Until you do that, we’ll spar without weapons.”
She frowned at him, which made him laugh.
“It’s just that I don’t want to lose an arm, Ember,” he said. “We’ll test our blades against each other when you’ve learned control.”
The pride Ember had felt after decapitating the mud creature melted away. As she unbuckled her belt, her confidence wavered. Barrow was right. She might have overpowered that thing Lora had summoned, but she’d been nothing more than a wild thing—an animal fighting for its life.
She set her belt and weapons aside, exhaustion disheartening her as much as the weight of the lesson.
Barrow stood face-to-face with her, and Ember steeled herself for the next round of instruction.
Now that they were so close, she had to lift her chin to meet his eyes. He was a head and a half taller than she and built like a statue. Even if she’d had her blades, Ember doubted parting Barrow from any of his limbs would be an easy feat.
“The clerics can summon creatures of the earth to supply us with convenient practice partners,” he said. “But they are mindless things and only offer limited challenge.”
Ember nodded, rolling her shoulders back to free them of tension. She knew it was only a matter of time—probably minutes—before she’d be asked to fight again.
“In the field you’ll face creatures that embody cunning and deceit,” he told her. “They will constantly search for ways to exploit your weaknesses. To turn your skills against you. If you only lash out against these fiends, you will not prevail.”
Cold fingers crawled over Ember’s skin. “I understand.”
“Know your strengths and use them.” He looked her up and down. “Tell me how you can beat me.”
She stared at him, waiting for him to break into a grin at any moment. He’d just finished lecturing her about how she relied on instinct alone to fight. She had no chance of besting Barrow Hess. He had to be joking. The smile she expected didn’t come.
“Your strengths,” he said again.
“I—” He wanted an answer and she had to find one. But what could he be thinking? She was armed only with the ceremonial dagger she’d been given the night she was called to the Guard. They were on a practice field so she could learn how to fight—but she had yet to gain any skills.
Barrow folded his arms across his chest. “Very well, then. Start with my weaknesses instead.”
“But you don’t have—” Ember bit her tongue, blushing as she realized she was about to proclaim his perfection.
The ghost of a smile passed over his face.
“I mean . . . how could you lose?” she asked while her pulse skittered anxiously.
“I rarely lose.” He let his full smile appear then. She looked away, feeling unsteady, and not just because she still didn’t know how to answer him.
“Let go of your expectations,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to look directly at him. “Forget anything you know of me. Look at me as a body—the body of an attacker, an enemy. Your enemy.”
He stepped back to let her assess his frame.
“What do you see?” he asked.
“You’re tall,” she said. “Broad shoulders. I see strength.”
He nodded. “How you do defeat strength?”
She ground her teeth, wanting to prove herself capable, but all she felt was her lack of experience. She didn’t see a way to fight him and win.
“Let me tell you what I see.” Barrow tilted his head, walking around her in a slow circle. “A girl. Sinewy but lithe. And she has fire in her eyes.”
He was behind her when he suddenly lunged at her back. Without thinking she dove for the ground, tumbling until she came up in a crouch.
“What do you have that I don’t?” His question was tinged with laughter.
He stood over her as Ember watched him. She was still coiled up like a cat ready to pounce. When she didn’t answer, he lunged again, arms stretching toward her. She took advantage of her taut muscles and launched over him, pushing off his exposed back as he lunged at her. She landed on all fours and rolled to her feet, ready for the next strike, but was surprised to see Barrow sprawled face-first on the ground.
He swore, climbing out of the muck. “Speed. Instinct. That’s what you have. You’re even faster than I thought—that’s why I ended up in the dirt.”
She was relieved when he smiled at her.
“Again,” he said, lunging before she could raise her guard. Her only choice was to flop onto her stomach, rolling over in the mud so Barrow’s charge took him past her.
“What was that?” she shouted, but she was laughing as she looked down at her mud-covered tabard.
“Payback.”
She laughed, but the sound became a shriek when Barrow rushed at her. Ember tried to scramble out of the way, but she didn’t move quickly enough. Barrow’s arms locked around her legs, dragging her on her stomach through the mud.