Post by Evie Perroy on Nov 10, 2009 11:56:24 GMT
It was early morning when Evie stepped out into the training grounds. She was wearing her sparse leather armour, and her blonde hair was plaited out of the way down her back. She gripped a sword that she had been provided with from the palace armory; it felt like a lead weight in her arm. She saw the Prince finishing up with a group of archer recruits over the other side of the training ground, and stood where she was until he saw her and walked over. She was struck with a certain respect for the Prince, he was clearly devoted to his men, and the people they fought for.
"Your Highness." she inclined her head when he was almost level with her.
"Ah good, you have a sword." he began, noting to the dull weapon that Evie clutched in her hands, and unsheathing his own sword.
"Will we begin sword-fighting today?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face, she had expected training as an assassin to be about learning stealth and underhand tactics.
"Yes. As soon as you've done three laps of the training ground."
She looked at him, wondering if the Prince was joking, he looked back at her expectantly. After the third lap her thighs burned and she returned to where Arthur was standing with his arms crossed, and bent over breathing heavily.
"Are you proficient with a sword?" he questioned, eying the panting girl skeptically.
"Yes." she replied bluntly, still catching her breath. Her father had told her she had a natural talent with a sword, and she held her father's opinion highly.
"We'll soon see." the Prince replied, stepping back into the sparring ring and motioning for Evie to join him. She was still tired from the run, but scooped up her sword, and gripping it tightly, she stood opposite the Prince. They both paced for a while, Evie using it as a further opportunity to recuperate. He was waiting for her to strike first- it was a test after all. She jabbed forward, an anticipated move that Arthur blocked with ease. This time she swung higher, hoping Arthur wouldn't move quick enough, but she was wrong, and he spun around his sword meeting hers with a clang and sending it flying from her hand.
She gasped as the bones in her arm were shaken from the impact.
"Pick it up." Arthur instructed with a jerk of his head. Evie did as she was told, and they continued in this fashion for the best part of an hour, the fighting lasting for a little longer each time before Arthur overcame Evie and sent her sword skittling into the dust.
Evie bent down and retrieved the sword once again; she had lost count how many times her fingernails had scraped the dust, and she could smell the tang of sweat and metal from the palm of her hand. Arthur had stepped backwards, purposefully leaving himself open, and Evie reacted before he had even taken a stance. This time, she was not so easily overcome as she had familiarized herself with Arthur's style and blocked two of his blows in succession, sword still in hand. Flyaway hairs dropped around her face as she threw a two handed blow that Arthur narrowly sidestepped to avoid and still she pressed forward, excited that she was gaining the upper hand. Arthur suddenly gave an easy flick of his wrist, twisting Evie's hand backward and causing her sword to clatter harmlessly at her feet.
"Bloody hell!" she swore loudly, the lower class speech creeping back into her voice. Her back was pressed against the Prince, his sword at her throat. He held her in defeat for a second, then his grip loosened and Evie stumbled forwards, her mouth dry.
"You have no stamina." The Prince coolly observed. He looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat, even coated in heavy amour. "And you're moving far too slowly, how do you expect to block anything when you're holding your sword like a lead pipe. You need a lighter sword."
Evie nodded, guarding her tongue. She knew better than to answer back to the Crown Prince.
"The technique is there though." he called over his shoulder as he walked away, "Practice Evie."
Words: about 700
"Your Highness." she inclined her head when he was almost level with her.
"Ah good, you have a sword." he began, noting to the dull weapon that Evie clutched in her hands, and unsheathing his own sword.
"Will we begin sword-fighting today?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face, she had expected training as an assassin to be about learning stealth and underhand tactics.
"Yes. As soon as you've done three laps of the training ground."
She looked at him, wondering if the Prince was joking, he looked back at her expectantly. After the third lap her thighs burned and she returned to where Arthur was standing with his arms crossed, and bent over breathing heavily.
"Are you proficient with a sword?" he questioned, eying the panting girl skeptically.
"Yes." she replied bluntly, still catching her breath. Her father had told her she had a natural talent with a sword, and she held her father's opinion highly.
"We'll soon see." the Prince replied, stepping back into the sparring ring and motioning for Evie to join him. She was still tired from the run, but scooped up her sword, and gripping it tightly, she stood opposite the Prince. They both paced for a while, Evie using it as a further opportunity to recuperate. He was waiting for her to strike first- it was a test after all. She jabbed forward, an anticipated move that Arthur blocked with ease. This time she swung higher, hoping Arthur wouldn't move quick enough, but she was wrong, and he spun around his sword meeting hers with a clang and sending it flying from her hand.
She gasped as the bones in her arm were shaken from the impact.
"Pick it up." Arthur instructed with a jerk of his head. Evie did as she was told, and they continued in this fashion for the best part of an hour, the fighting lasting for a little longer each time before Arthur overcame Evie and sent her sword skittling into the dust.
Evie bent down and retrieved the sword once again; she had lost count how many times her fingernails had scraped the dust, and she could smell the tang of sweat and metal from the palm of her hand. Arthur had stepped backwards, purposefully leaving himself open, and Evie reacted before he had even taken a stance. This time, she was not so easily overcome as she had familiarized herself with Arthur's style and blocked two of his blows in succession, sword still in hand. Flyaway hairs dropped around her face as she threw a two handed blow that Arthur narrowly sidestepped to avoid and still she pressed forward, excited that she was gaining the upper hand. Arthur suddenly gave an easy flick of his wrist, twisting Evie's hand backward and causing her sword to clatter harmlessly at her feet.
"Bloody hell!" she swore loudly, the lower class speech creeping back into her voice. Her back was pressed against the Prince, his sword at her throat. He held her in defeat for a second, then his grip loosened and Evie stumbled forwards, her mouth dry.
"You have no stamina." The Prince coolly observed. He looked like he hadn't even broken a sweat, even coated in heavy amour. "And you're moving far too slowly, how do you expect to block anything when you're holding your sword like a lead pipe. You need a lighter sword."
Evie nodded, guarding her tongue. She knew better than to answer back to the Crown Prince.
"The technique is there though." he called over his shoulder as he walked away, "Practice Evie."
Words: about 700
