Garinor awoke the next morning, ready to see what a new day would bring. Song was already up and about and he brought word to Garinor.
“Chief has some plans for you. If you’re staying, that is.”
“I am. For a little bit at least.”
Song broke into a smile. “That’s great! I hope you’re up to some activity today. Come on.”
Garinor followed Song through the camp and after a quick breakfast of mash, Song brought him to some of the other fighters. “Chief said I should stay with you today, and he also thinks you should have some training to protect yourself. Take out your sword.”
Garinor’s eyes shot up. “You’re going to teach me to fight?”
“Defense mostly, but yes. We Daggerfists can’t leave you completely without protection. Let’s get to it. You’ll start by facing off with Zephyr there.” He motioned to a young woman who had her own short sword at the ready, though its blade was wrapped in cloth. She walked over and saluted to them.
Garinor looked at his sword and then at hers. “Shouldn’t I cover this blade too?”
The woman laughed. “If you can hit me, boy, then I deserve it.” She winked at him, then sprinted forward, batting his side with her covered sword and causing him to drop his weapon inadvertently. “See? That was easy. Now pick it up and let’s go again.”
Garinor and Zephyr faced off for nearly two hours while Song called out advice to the boy. “Keep your sword lower. Tuck your elbow in a little bit there. Keep your eyes forward when she comes at you like that. Don’t let her get you angry; keep a focused head.”
The two of them whirled around each other and Zephyr lived up to her name with true grace. She weaved and bobbed over and under all of Garinor’s moves, and her bludgeon battered the boy from head to toe. As the morning wore on, he learned to block more of her moves, but he still had a long way to go.
While they were training, the rest of the camp packed for an afternoon procession further north. Though morning would have been a more ideal time to move along instead of the warmer afternoon, the injured members needed more rest before taking to the road.
“Time for stamina training,” Song said cheerily, watching as Garinor staggered about, sore and bruised. “We’ll be jogging up and down the line while the rest of the team heads north.”
He didn’t know where he found the energy, but Garinor managed to keep up with the energetic Song. They took messages from back to front when needed, but otherwise kept a brisk pace end to end.
As evening approached, they crested a hill and Chief bade them set up camp at its base. Tents went up swiftly and food was prepared. Sentries were set for the night and the rest of the party settled in to sleep. Because Garinor and Song had had a tent the night before, it was rotated to others that night.
“Look up there,” Song whispered, pointing at stars dotting the sky. “Those make up the constellation Tigress. It is said that she is a proud beast who guards the desert with her powerful eyes. And there, that triangle with the tail swinging down and around, that’s the Gavel of Despair. If you’re born under its sign then your life is destined for hardships, but you will prevail in the end.”
Garinor listened lazily as Song kept up the discourse, grinning all the while. In some ways it was like listening to his father spin imaginary tales. In others it was like bonding with an older brother who cared about him very much. Because Garinor was the oldest of his siblings, he didn’t know what it felt like to have that sense of camaraderie. The closest to that he had was in the friendship he had built up with Tomli. They were more like brothers than anything else.
When Song realized that Garinor was drifting off to sleep, he stopped talking about the stars and crooned a lullaby in a deep, soft voice that carried gently on the night air and brought with it the promise of warm, restful sleep.
The next day was filled with more training for Garinor. He spent the morning sparring with Zephyr again while Song was off scouting. Zephyr taunted him for being slow as he struggled to move through his aches from the previous day’s sessions. Her strategy worked, however, and enough anger rose in Garinor that he was able to ignore her comments and his pains and focus on the fight instead.
They took a much-needed break some time later and were lounging near a bucket of water when Song came bolting into camp, his face white.
“Chief!” he cried out. But by the time he reached the man’s tent, everyone already knew what he was going to say. For, up on the hill there rose an army, weapons poised for battle.
The fighters scampered into instant activity. Swords were readied and every brave soul ran out to meet the army. Garinor was caught up in the moment and he took the sword he had been training with and dashed into the fray as well. The modicum of practice with Zephyr served Garinor well as he managed to deftly parry his foes’ attacks. He struck only to disable them and to keep them from the fight. He wasn’t trying to kill anyone.
Two men swept upon him and he fought back as best he could, but his sword swipes were fueled by blind panic and his tactics were lost in the chaos. Song saw him struggling and dealt his combatant a mortal blow then ran to Garinor’s side. Two against two, they were better matched, and they managed to defeat the opposing forces.
Only one man was mounted on horseback in the enemy army. He was clad in rich fabrics and sat astride his horse as if he ruled the world. His sword bit ferociously into the Daggerfists and brought many to their knees in agony. Garinor knew without doubt that the man was the prince.
A burning rage built up in Garinor then. He fended off two other men, but he had a new purpose in mind. Setting his sights, Garinor worked his way to the prince’s horse, determined to bring him to justice at last.
The prince wasn’t paying attention to the boy and Garinor threw down his sword and sprinted with all his might. He grabbed the prince’s leg, snapped it out of the stirrup, and threw it over the horse. He then sped around as the prince fell to the dirt and his fists went to bloody work. He pummeled the unsuspecting man punch after punch until he was too winded to continue.
It looked like it would be a victory, but then something terrible happened. A whole new contingent of fighters appeared from the east. Fresh and eager, they toppled over the camp and swarmed about. The fight was over in no time at all.
Song came barreling up to Garinor and grabbed him with all his strength. Hoisting him up onto the horse, Song sprang up behind him and snapped the reins. They lurched ahead and disappeared down the northern road, leaving the battle site to resolve itself.