Chapter 66 - Prince Vs. Princess

ETAN

They were both panting, circling each other. Borsche and Falek had inched closer over the course of their combat and now stood just feet away, each calling instruction and advice to their fighters.

Ayleth's cheeks were hot, and Etan's hair stuck to his temples with sweat. But he hadn't found the opening to take her down without hurting her, and she hadn't been able to get a firm grip on him yet.

But he was tiring. She was so fast. It was his luck that she wasn't accustomed to fighting for so long. Her breath heaved much rougher than his.

"Use your hands, Ayleth," Falek said quietly. "He has more bulk to move. Make him work for it."

"Stay on the balls of your feet and keep that shoulder up!" Borsche hissed.

They circled again and she stared at his chest rather than his eyes—limiting his ability to feint.

"Stop holding back," Ayleth snarled without meeting his eyes. "If I came at you in the dark you wouldn't even know I was a woman anyway."

"Don't be so sure. It's hard to miss, Princess," he said, knowing she didn't like it when he used her title. Sure enough, her eyes sparked and she came at him, a flurry of limbs, striking, spearing and then a low sweep with her leg that almost took him behind the knee. It was only by the Creator's mercy that he danced back in time, but Borsche swore.

She'd almost taken him.

His pride fought with his heart. Ayleth sparred in truth. She hadn't pulled her punches. If they landed, they hurt. He had more than one spot on his chest that would ache tonight.

In return, he guessed her arms were bruised under her leathers with the sheer shock of the blocks she'd used to keep him at bay.

But he hadn't really attacked—and she was beginning to flag.

To take her? Or to let her take him?

"I didn't peg you for a coward, Etan?" she puffed, circling again with her hands high and ready. He cut her a glare and in the split second his mind was on her rather than the fight, she struck, throwing a thrust at his face that he was forced to block, but which left his hand extended and allowed her to twist and take his wrist, his arm and pull him over her perfectly placed leg.

But he was prepared this time. He knew she liked to throw—and that usually when she did it, her opponent gave up. Instead, he turned into the throw, rolling back to his feet as she reached for him, and sweeping her rear foot out from under her, lifting it so she tipped into the dirt floor of the arena with a frustrated shriek.

Then he used the momentum to bear her to the ground, and his greater weight to keep her pinned.

Borsche laughed and Falek swore, but they counted her down and Etan released her immediately, rolling off and offering her a hand to get to her feet.

It wasn't a warm feeling he had, seeing her lay in the dirt. But she flashed him a smile and clasped his hand, springing to her feet. "I got you!" she said, pleased with herself.

"Yes, but you didn't keep him," Falek muttered.

With the fighting over, Etan couldn't take his eyes off of her. She breathed heavily and her cheeks were red, but her eyes sparkled. She looked… amazing in those leathers.

Dear Lord, give him strength.

And, as if she felt the shift in him, her eyes cut to find his and her gaze heated.

Borsche cleared his throat. "Neither of you should be pleased with that showing," he said, nudging Etan away from Ayleth when he'd been about to reach for her. Borsche pointed at him. "You held back too long. You cannot give your enemy any room to measure you. I've told you before, attack, attack, attack."

"And you, Ayleth," Falek said sternly, "You're still not taking advantage of the openings you're given. I saw at least two moments when he was off balance. You could have ended this if you'd been quick."

They both stood, head down and regathering their breath.

"Clearly they need to understand that we aren't here to play," Borsche said with a look at Falek.

Falek nodded. "You're both going to take another run."

"What?!" Ayleth squeaked.

Falek glared at her. "Perhaps if we wear you out today, you'll sleep better tonight and actually keep your wits about you tomorrow."

Etan glanced at Borsche, who was grinning. "You heard him," he said.

Etan took a deep breath and stepped into the jog, but Falek caught his arm and pulled him to a stop. "No, this is too easy. You're going to take the training loop. And you're back here in under half an hour, or you'll do it again."

"What?!" Ayleth repeated.

"One more word from you Princess, and I'll make you do it twice anyway."

She closed her mouth and folded her arms, but she didn't make another sound. Falek nodded. "Much better. We'll use the clock to time you. Keep a steady pace."

They both groaned but followed their men to the door that led out into the morning sun, now bright and beginning to warm. It would be relentless in leathers.

"Off you go," Borsche said, clapping him on the shoulder.

A moment later they were both pounding along the dirt road towards the wood that circled most of the castle grounds at the back here.

At first, Etan just muttered to himself. If he'd known he was going to have time with Ayleth today, this isn't how he would have chosen to spend it. But because he'd hung back to watch her, he soon saw that perhaps the run would not be wasted after all. Watching her… er… legs in those pants, pounding along the dirt road threatened to have him embarrassing himself.

"This is your fault," Ayleth puffed a moment later.

"What? How?"

"You were holding back. Falek believes when soldiers train together, they should all receive both accolade, and discipline together. He's punishing you for not putting all your effort into the fight."

"Oh, really?" he said.

"Yes."

"Well, I'll keep that mind for tomorrow."

"Please do." She sounded annoyed, but then she shot him a look over her shoulder, with a beaming smile. And he couldn't do anything but smile back.

They ran on until they reached the wood and were soon under the trees, which at least offered some shade. But Ayleth kept looking over her shoulder, past him, back towards the training arena.

"What is it?" he asked after the third time she'd done it.

"Just waiting until… there," she said and stumbled to a halt.

Etan stopped quickly. "Are you winded?"

She frowned at him. "No. I'm taking my solitude."

"What?"

Looking around them quickly, she grasped his hand—that jolt shot up his arm and made his breath catch. But she tugged him into the trees, talking over her shoulder as she pushed through underbrush and seedlings. "Can you estimate time?"

"Yes," he said.

"Accurately?"

"Yes."

"Good." She pushed through a thick growth of hawberry, then turned to face him, pulling him to her. Etan stumbled and almost pitched into her, but she just smiled, turning to face him. "Let me know when we have five minutes left," she breathed.

"What for?"

"Because that's when we'll need to go back."

He stared a moment, finally beginning to understand. "And what will be doing until then, Ayleth?" he asked in a deep voice.

She smiled. "What would you like to do, Etan?"

He descended on her.