The Dragon's Prize (3 page)

“They are trained to fight undisciplined peasants, young prince.”  The sword master took the pipe out of his mouth so he could speak more clearly.  “Not one with your… talents.”

“Well!”  The prince grabbed a towel and started drying off his sweaty chest.  Mira made a pouty face as he did it.  “There has to be someone!”

“There might be, my lord.”  The captain of the guard came over.  He was dressed in practice leathers and drinking a cup of water, though Sandra knew he had been watching and not practicing.  “Sandra.”

Sandra felt her stomach drop out from underneath her.  Her?  Of course she was better than these others, but she was a commoner.  It was only by grace of her skill that they let her into the guard in the first place.  All the other guards were nobles.  Minor nobles, or third sons in most cases, but still of noble blood.  If by some chance they scored a hit on the prince, it would all be in good fun.

If she hit the prince?  They could execute her…

“Sandra?”  The prince scoffed.  Clearly he didn’t know she was there.  Hopefully… “Little Sandra?  The urchin we found at the castle gates all those years ago?”

“Yes, my prince.”  The guard captain bowed.  Sandra felt her ears get hot at the words ‘little Sandra’.

“I haven’t seen her in years!  I forgot she was in the guard.  Sandra!”  The prince twirled around, looking for her.  “Sandra, come out!”

Sandra gave Mira a panicked look.  Mira grinned and shooed her out into the yard, apparently oblivious of the danger that Sandra was going to be in.

“I’m here, my lord.”  Sandra knew she couldn’t hide for long.  Even if she ran, someone would find her.  The guard captain decreed it...

Sandra strode out onto the practice yard, carrying her wooden practice sword slung easily against her back and trying to look confident.  She was still sweaty and grimy from her failed fight with the dummy earlier, and her hair hung in ragged tangles about her face.  Not good condition to be presented to the prince in.  Even if they had once run through the mud together, pranking the cooks and causing trouble.

“Sandra!”  The prince smiled broadly and came over, wiping his brow and throwing the towel away. Up close he was even more impressive: the height of physical perfection.  Sandra tried not to stare at his chest too much.  “How are you?”

“I’m fine, my lord.”  Sandra smiled, then bowed before him.

“Now, now.”  He touched her gently on the shoulder, pulling her back to her feet.  “There’s no need for that!  We skinned our knees and wrestled the pigs together.  There’s no formality between us.”  His smile was broad and welcoming, she could almost imagine this sparring match being good for her.  “Is the captain right?  You’re a good swordsman… err, swordswoman?”

“Her!?”  The Eastern master scoffed.  Wu?  Was that his name?  “She couldn’t handle the dummy.”

“Err…”  The captain looked between the prince and Wu.  “She might have been having an off-day, my prince.  She is our best swordsman.  Swordswoman.”

“Warrior?”  Sandra raised her eyebrows hopefully.  It would be annoying if they kept arguing over semantics.

“Warrior then.  Tell me, Sandra, how is it that you’re so much better than these others?”  The prince gestured at the guards who were slowly filtering back into the yard to watch the spectacle.  “I remember when you were in pigtails and helping me throw rocks at the stablemaster!”

“That was a long time ago, my prince.”  Sandra smiled wistfully.  Those were the days… before the fact that she was a commoner started to get in the way of everything.  Before the duties of being crown prince took her playmate away.  “Since then I’ve pursued other activities.  Like the sword.”

“Yes.  Well.  Alright, let’s see what you’ve got!”

“My prince…”

“Do not be bashful, Sandra.  We’ll fight!  And you’ll show me that you’re better than these sluggards!”  The other guards scowled at her when the prince said that.

Damned either way.

“Yes, my prince.”  Sandra tried to hide her dislike of the situation, but some sullenness remained in her voice.

The prince headed to his corner of the field, grabbing the sword as he went, and Sandra walked to the opposite corner.  As she passed the guard captain, she gave him a glare and muttered under her breath.

“You know I can’t do this.”

“Why?  Because you’re just a commoner, and if you strike the Crown Prince I will have you thrown out of the guard?”

"…"  Sandra stopped and stared at the man in shock.  He was whispering so only she could hear, and his face was screwed up in a rictus of malice.  Did he hate her so much?

“Or because my good name is on the line, and if you don’t put on a good showing I’ll have you thrown out of the guard?”

“What?”  Sandra shook her head.  There was no way this was happening.  “You’re not serious.  Either way I get thrown out.”

“Either way you get thrown out.”  The captain spat in the sand at her feet.  The prince and Wu were conversing in their corner so he couldn’t see what was happening.  “And one way I might get to take that head off your shoulders.  Pig spawn.”  The captain spat again, then stalked out of the arena.

Heart in her throat, Sandra took up her position at the opposite corner of the field.  Slimy fear roiled in her gut as she turned to face her opponent.  Might as well be her executioner.  Mira was near the edge of the practice yard now and gave Sandra an encouraging thumbs up.  Sandra sent her a wan smile in return.

“Are you ready, Sandra?”  The prince called out from his corner.

“As I’ll ever be!”

There had to be a way out of this.

Sandra glided forward across the sand easily.  There must be a third option, a way that she could keep the captain’s honor intact and also not hit the prince.  Then she could quit and flee the capital… maybe she should just lose?

Then she would lose the prince’s respect as well, and any chance of having a decent life.

Great.

The prince also came forward, more cautiously than he’d approached the other guards.  At least he was giving her some respect now, although it might not be worth very much by the end of this.

“Rolling thunder!”  Wu shouted and the whip snapped.  Apparently it was time to start.

She’d seen this one when the prince was practicing earlier.  He would come forward with an overhand slash to her right side, a blow intended to cripple a sword arm, then step to his right and bring the sword low across her stomach, which would disembowel her.  It was a gutsy finisher that you used on a weak or slow opponent.  Apparently Wu didn’t think much of her.

She was neither weak, nor slow.  She stepped forward and to the left as the first slash came down, moving inside the prince’s guard, then spun around him as he executed the follow-up slash.  She ended up behind him and he had to spin to bring his guard up.  She could have ended it there with a quick thrust in his back, but the hit that would end the match would also end her life.  She stepped back.

“How did you do that?”  The prince’s eyes were wide and he backed up a step to keep some distance between the two of them.

“You’re telegraphing.”

“No I’m not!”

Sandra pointed wordlessly at Wu.  The prince shook his head.

“You don’t know what rolling thunder is.”

“…”  Sandra raised an eyebrow.

“Lotus on water!”  Wu interrupted their conversation.

She hadn’t seen this one, but Wu was not the only one telegraphing the prince’s attacks.  The other guards had been tripped up by his hands, which wove in and around in intricate patterns not seen in their style of fighting, but his feet still showed his intention.  Maybe not where the sword was going, but they showed where he was going.

He floated to the right, sending a quick series of jabs at her side.  She went the other way, circling around him and deflecting the attacks.  She could have pressed the advantage…

That was it!  She just had to stop him from hitting her!  None of the other guards had lasted through even one maneuver, let alone two.  If she just kept blocking, maybe he would realize the captain was telling the truth and stop the match before she had to hit him.

Wu started yelling at him faster, the words coming in rapid fire, and the prince pressed the attack.  Sandra let him come, flowing around the sword or blocking it as she needed to and backing up as she went across the field.  The guards standing around the sides of the yard started yelling.  Some were encouraging her, some were encouraging the prince, others were complaining that nothing was happening.  They’d sparred with her, they knew this was not her normal style.

“Wait! Stop!”  Finally the prince stopped coming and backed off a step.  Sandra stayed where she was with her guard up.

They were both breathing hard in the heat of the sun.  Sweat ran freely down the prince’s chest, while her forehead was barely damp.

“You’re toying with me.”   He looked angry.

“My prince?”

“You’re not even attacking!”

“My prince, I…”

“She’s good!”  Wu yelled from the sideline, clapping his hands together excitedly.  “Or maybe you’re worse than the dummy!”  The prince grit his teeth and stepped forward.

“Fight back, dammit!”

“I…”

“You’re making me look like a fool!”

Sandra looked around at the guards.  They were definitely souring on the prince’s performance, and the ones with the welts from the beating they’d taken at his hands were looking like they wanted a rematch.  Of course, the prince was quite good, and he would win any such.  He just wasn’t quite as good as her.

“My prince.”  Sandra was torn.  “My style is… not suited for fighting royalty.”

“What?”  The prince’s anger was interrupted by such a strange comment.  “What can you possibly mean?”

“It… umm… involves a lot of punching.”

“Punching?”  He looked incredulous.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“Try.”  He looked almost like he was pleading.  “This dancing that Wu is teaching me is all well and good, but I love to learn new techniques.”

This was not going how Sandra intended, but at least they were talking instead of trying to hit each other.

“Well, most styles treat the sword as the only thing that counts in a fight.”  She swished her sword through the air a few times.  “Like the be-all, end-all of the fight has to do with hitting the other person with your sword.”

“But it does, doesn’t it?”  The prince held out his own sword and looked at it.  “Even the thin weapons Wu uses are honed steel.  Hitting someone with that is deadly.”

“I agree.  But in battle, your sword is not the only dangerous part of you.  You wear metal armor, you often carry a shield… the sword is just another tool at your disposal.  An important one, of course, but not the only one.”

“Show me.”

“My prince…”

“Show me!”  The prince was back to looking mad.  Had his temper always been this mercurial?  “Fight like you mean it.”

“My prince…”

“Fight me, or I’ll see you banished!”

Sandra gulped, her heart was lodged back in her throat.  Maybe now she could fake getting hit by him?  That might not stop him, though.  He might insist on continuing the fight until she succeeded…

Wu didn’t announce the moves he wanted the prince to use this time, so the next portion of the fight started off eerily quietly.  The prince came forward, his face set in a grimace of anger, and launched into a series of ‘lotus’ maneuvers.  They were quick and precise, floating around in a complicated pattern meant to break down the opponent’s guard and tire them out, rather than going for a quick kill like the ‘thunder’ techniques.  Sandra thought to herself that it was a good thing the prince had Wu’s help.  Without it, he launched the same move too many times.  He was too predictable.

Sandra blocked the first few salvos, fending off his attacks with ease while trying to think of the best way to hit him.

“Do it!”  His anger made his next attack hasty and off-balance, but powerful.

If she kept doing this, his greater strength might start injuring her, and would he stop?  She’d never seen this amount of fury in his eyes before.

She had no choice.

As usual, he was favoring her right side.  It was a good strategy, it kept her sword occupied and if he scored a hit it would take her out of the fight quickly.  Well, if they were using real swords it would.  Even wooden swords could really do some damage, though…

As she blocked the next attack, she stepped forward into his guard and punched him.

The entire crowd gasped as her hard leather glove met his unprotected face.  Even Wu dropped his pipe on the ground as he watched the prince’s face snap to the side.  Blood, royal blood, sprayed in ropy globs from the prince’s mouth.

Even Sandra gasped.

She immediately backed away, holding her hand in shock and letting her practice sword fall to the sand.

The prince spat more blood to the ground, she must have cut the inside of his cheek on a tooth, and then laughed.  Tentatively, the spectators started to laugh too.  It was unprecedented.  A commoner punching the prince?