"The best way to study someone is to let them beat you. They'll show you everything while thinking they're showing you nothing."
***
The courtyard filled with the sounds of combat. Wooden weapons smacked together with hollow thuds. Students grunted with effort. Feet scraped across packed earth.
Morning sunlight came through the oak trees along the eastern wall, throwing shadows across the training grounds. The air smelled like sweat, crushed grass, and the faint metal tang of blood where someone's practice blade had landed too hard.
"That's not a proper guard, Marquis Hereford! That's an invitation to have your intestines on the ground! Lower your elbow before I break it!"
"Begin!" Blackthorne roared. The word bounced off the walls. "Show me what passes for combat in your soft little worlds! Show me you're at least capable of hitting each other!"
I raised my practice sword.
