Path of the Sun: A Novel of Dhulyn and Parno by Violette Malan Read Free Book Online Page B

the center, left hand halfway between that and the end of the staff.
    For the first time Princess Cleona looked uncertain. If there had not been so many people already gathering to watch, Parno would have wagered the princess would have made some excuse to back out. But give the woman her due, she narrowed her eyes and took up her stance.
    “Face, hands, shoulders,” she said, with only the slightest tremor in her voice. “Everything else will be covered by the wedding garments.”
    Cleona knew her way around a quarterstaff, that much was obvious. It was a common enough weapon for nobles to be taught, even where it was not the custom for women to become soldiers. That was not the case in Arderon, if Parno remembered his tutor’s lessons correctly. Two or three generations back there had been an uprising of the then predominantly male army, put down only with great difficulty—and help from the Mercenary Brotherhood—by the then Tarkina. None of that ruler’s successors had made such a simple mistake again. Now more than half of all the soldiery in Arderon, including guard troops, was female.
    Dhulyn and the Princess Cleona circled each other, looking for openings. The Black Traveler was moving smoothly, at least compared to what she and Parno had experienced on the Long Ocean, but it was obvious from the way Princess Cleona swayed and shifted her feet that she didn’t have her sea legs quite yet.
    Parno was beginning to regret that he hadn’t opted to do this himself. There were two paths for Dhulyn to choose between. Deal with the princess quickly and cleanly—much harder to do when the object was to leave her uninjured and alive—or draw out the match to make the woman feel as though she was considered a worthy opponent. The latter was certainly the diplomatic pathway—but when it came to her Mercenary skills, Dhulyn was rarely diplomatic.
    The princess struck first, a feint to the knee followed by a blow aimed at the head, which Dhulyn neatly parried with as small a movement as the staffs allowed. His Partner showed no excessive speed or knowledge, Parno noted as the bout progressed, matching herself carefully to the princess’ abilities. Parno began to breathe more easily; it seemed Dhulyn would after all remember that she was a bodyguard—and whose body she was guarding.
    Another exchange of blows, much faster this time, and Princess Cleona’s lips began to curve into a smile. Out of the corner of his eye Parno saw Dorian purse his lips and give his head a tiny shake, and he almost smiled himself, thoroughly understanding. The princess had forgotten where she was, and who she was fighting. That kind of confidence would lose her the match.
    Dhulyn blocked a sudden jab to her ribs with the shod end of the staff and tapped the princess on the left side of her leg, just above the knee. Parno glanced at Dorian, but from the sparkle in the Schooler’s eye, he’d caught it, all right. Had Dhulyn struck the knee itself with that much force, she would have broken it. As it was, she had badly bruised the muscle of the princess’ thigh, and at any moment—there, the leg almost gave under her. Dhulyn stepped back, holding her staff across her body.
    “I think you have pulled a muscle, Princess,” she said, speaking slowly and with great clarity. “Further exercise may cause more serious damage.”
    Eyes wide, Princess Cleona looked from Dhulyn’s staff to where her own hand had gone instinctively to her leg. She gave Dhulyn the minutest of nods. “Yes, you are right, thank you,” she said. She handed her staff to one of her own servants and accepted Parno’s hand to guide her to the nearest seat, a small bench that ran along under the ship’s port rail.
    “Will you rest, Dhulyn Wolfshead, or shall Alaria fetch her bow?”
    “I can rest while the Princess Alaria fetches her bow and my Partner fetches mine.”
    “We shall have a simple target, first,” Dorian suggested when Alaria returned carrying with