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Assassination attempt? Again?

  Cecil sat very still in his new coat of glass shards. His heart raced loudly in his ears.

  Talmage had already stood, his missing right hand reaching for his left hip, before he mentally took control, and fidgeted with something around his neck. and left the room just as two guards ran in.

  Cecil stared at the guards then watched as Arron stood up and drew his sword.

  “Erris?”

  She stood, “Yes. They are not here to hurt us.” Arron took a looser stance, “What do you recommend as a soldier?”

  One with cropped brown hair gave a ghost of a bow, and gestured towards the door, “The hallway is more defensible. We will wait there for reinforcements.”

  Erris stood quickly, “yes. There is much commotion happening, but none of it is there. We should be safe.”

  Erris’ talent was empathy. She could read the emotions of others. But more than that, she was powerful enough to feel the whole castle.

  Cecil sat and stared at his paper which was covered in glass shards from the window, and gripped his pencil tightly.

  He was still a year off from learning the sword and two from earning breaking talent.

  He was effectively useless.

  Erris wasn’t required to learn to fight, but she had her areas of expertise and talent. Diplomacy, court etiquette, emotional reading… He had to be different from them all. He needed to learn engraving in order to be useful.

  Cecil carefully shook the glass off and dodged through the chairs towards the hallway where his siblings now waited with the silent guard. The talkative one followed behind him.

  The paintings in the hallway look slightly askew and the smell of old dust clouded the air.

  Cecil shifted from foot to foot until he heard metal armor clinking down the hall. Everyone turned towards it anxiously while the guards, Aaron and Tavv drew their swords.

  Then Erris spoke up. “Sheath your swords. It’s just Talmage.”

  In the time it took for the swords to sink back into their scabbard, Talmage turned the hallway with four guards in tow.

  “There was an explosion in the royal wing. We will take a trip to the warding room down the hall.”

  As he left, everyone followed him with the guards acting as rear guard.

  Cecil followed behind Tavv absent mindedly.

  Maybe he could do both. Learn the sword, and engraving at the same time. That way, he could protect himself and those around him as well as knowing the secrets of written power.

  But if he hurt his hand in sword training, a chisel would be much harder to wield. Making it harder to learn. Or, at the very least, harder to implement what he learned. Then he wouldn’t be able to learn either. Unless he learned how to do it left handed? But that seemed like a lot of work that could be avoided if he just didn’t train in the sword.

  They turned the corner into a room and Talmage stood by the door and closed it once they and three guards went in, took a square stone necklace off and placed it into the slot on the door. The others would meet up with the rest who had been called in to guard every entrance to the room.

  Cecil couldn’t hear it, but some sixth primal sense felt the inaudible hum of energy pulse through the air .

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  Talmage turned with a grin. “Now that that is taken care of, it looks like class will last all day. In light of the circumstances, fights for all!”

  Cecil sat himself down in the corner to think. He was familiar with the drill. Not that emergencies like this were common, but there had been an assassination attempt last year, and the failed rebellion five years ago. And each time he had watched Talmage start with the eldest, and work his way to the youngest. Arron unsheathed his sword and approached his instructor confidently. Talmage bowed slightly as he drew his sword, then lunged.

  That would be him someday. He would be just as good as Arron. And then he would beat him. Someday when he wasn’t so young. Unless he didn’t learn the sword.

  He clenched his fists. If he broke his fingers in practice, it would all be for nothing. Unfortunately he needed some sort of weapon in order to protect himself. And knife fighters had hands crossed with scars. What he needed was a safer way to protect himself in order to do both.

  Then hysterical laughter bubbled up from the pit of his hollow chest and nearly escaped.

  Learning to protect himself from dangerous situations was itself a dangerous situation! What a paradox. It was just controlled danger, which wasn’t really that dangerous. But accidents happened all of the time. Was it better not to train and not experience the possibility of energy ninety percent of the time? But that would leave someone vulnerable to danger that was more deadly that last ten percent… He rocked back and forth slightly.

  “He has improved so much.”

  Cecil jerked his face up towards Eriss. As the second eldest, she was good at the sword, but not nearly as good as Arron. She had prioritized learning the ways of government and court rather than focus on fighting. He would need to know that too someday.

  Maybe.

  It didn't seem like a fun thing to learn.

  “Of course. He gets better even as he sleeps I’m sure.”

  “Don’t let bitterness cloud your mind. He was your age once, with your level of skills. I’m sure you will become his equal one day.”

  Cecil shrugged. Eriss was right. There was no point in pining after Arron’s skill. And no point worrying about whether or not he would learn it. Father would insist upon it even if Cecil didn’t want to. The king would have no weakling child.

  Cecil dropped his worries and focused on the fight. Sword training was out of his hands, even if they did become broken.

  Then Talmage caught the Arron’s sword with his own, and twisted so that he had to drop his sword.

  “Well done young prince! But never drop your sword. In punishment, give me fifty push ups. Then you have till I finish with Cecil to tell me the best way to defeat an enemy of twenty archers in dry rocky terrain. You only have eight foot soldiers in your command, and reinforcement is two weeks away for both you and the enemy.” He pivoted on his heel then pointed in Cecil’s direction, “Now you Eriss. I heard you were practicing knives, and I just so happened to have a pair of wooden ones to practice with.”

  Eriss went and took the proffered knife from Talmage’s hand hilt first. She hefted it, and twirled it in her fingers before nodding her assent to Talmage, who attacked with his left hand. She tried to turn the fight to her advantage by slowly repositioning herself, but it was no use. She was right handed and at a disadvantage. They turned in a slow dance of flicks and snake strikes until Talmage was suddenly inside her guard and his wooden blade against her neck.

  She threw down her blade, “I concede. What now?”

  “You are in a foreign city, do not know where anything is, but need to reach the docks in five hours. Give me five solutions.”

  Talmage repeated the process with Tavv, then walked to Cecil.

  “What do you want to do? Swords, knifes, or hand to hand?”

  Since Cecil hadn’t learned any of those yet, he decided to ask for something else.

  “Can you teach me engraving?”

  He leaned back and stroked his goatee, “I can’t. But my company's old engraver lives in town. Bet I could convince him to give you a pointer or two just in case you end up with the talent. Until then, let's work on your strength. Do ten pushups, ten sit ups, forty laps around the room, and while you are at it, tell me how you would make money in a city where you only had the clothes you are wearing, no connections, and only enough money for two meals.”

  Cecil stared at the floor dubiously but got to work. Maybe if he gained a really powerful talent in engraving he didn’t need to be a sword master at all. No more physical exercise again unless he wanted to.

  As long as he manifested the skill.

  He concentrated on his form, hands under his shoulders and back straight as a board. Then he lowered himself, then raised up on shaky arms. Dear Geas

  Please. Please. Please let me get engraving.

  He carefully lowered himself again, then bit his lip as he repeated his prayer. Again and again until his arms finally gave out, and he turned his thoughts to the money problem. Assuming they were in a port city, he might be able to bluff his way into the guard or merchants guild. Talmage hadn’t given him a time limit, and as long as he got in with the people who made money, and was in a place where money practically flowed like water, it wouldn’t be long before he could set himself up.

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