Thrusting lessons

Vel’s lance hit the dummy’s shield with a satisfying clank and it spun, but he gracefully dodged the heavy sack attached to its other arm. “Very good, lordling, again!” The tone of mild approval in the master at arms’ voice filled him with a sense of accomplishment. It might not sound like much, but a “very good” and a tone that was anything resembling approval from the gruff old man was damn near incredible. Stephan Kreibar was pushing 60, built like a barrel of ale with 4 tree trunks attached, and was the most demanding teacher of any kind Vel had ever had. He was also rude, demeaning, and eschewed the use of noble titles. Rank and standing did not matter if you were in his training yard. Vel adored him. The old man had agreed to teach him how to fight from horseback, knowing full well how his father would feel about it. He had possibly risked his livelihood to do so, but maybe even Lord Luthor would think twice about angering Stephan. That was the thing about old Kreibar though. Just like he didn’t give a shit that Vel was the heir of the estate, he also didn’t give a shit that he was crippled. He wanted to learn how to fight, and so Stephan would teach him. He’d also never been difficult about Vel’s disability, quite the opposite. Vel could still hear the old man’s words like he’d spoken them yesterday: “All soldiers have their strengths and weaknesses, their limitations. It’s my job to teach you to fight the best you possibly can. If I can’t find your strengths and the right way for you to fight, that’s my failure. If you remain a lazy lackwit though, that’s yours. So, get back to it!”

Vel did another few flawless passes under the old man’s watchful eye. It felt good to be exercising again, he hadn’t done so in nearly a week. If he went soft, Stephan would tan his hide, as he had so often threatened to do. Glaweder’s joy at the activity was both nice to see and infectious. The courser was an excellent horse for charging, capable of explosive bursts of speed and with an alarming lack of self-preservation instincts. “You’ve got this well enough in hand, boy, I’ll go and make sure the guard lads aren’t chopping their own fingers off.” Vel thanked Stephan for his time, which earned him a loud “humph” before he walked off.

As he rode yet another pass, he spotted someone approaching the fenced in riding area from the direction of the estate. It turned out to be Jeane, his sister’s sworn shield. He rode another pass, flawless again, before he cantered Glaweder over to the fence. Jeane had jumped over it, no small feat in armor, and had watched his last pass while leaning against it.

“That was quite the thrust, my Lord, excellent form.” Her voice was ever so slightly accented, barely noticeable, but it was definitely there. “Thank you, shield Jeane.” He inclined his head respectfully at the compliment. Jeane, while technically of noble birth, had no rank or title beyond that of sworn shield to Amordina. Her father was a landed knight, about as low tier as nobility could get, in a province called Duvliel. It was considered something of a backwards backwater by most of the empire. “Perhaps you would be open to teaching me someday. I am good with most weapons, but my lancework could use some improvement.” She looked at Glaweder, perhaps conscious of the way he had moved up to the fence perfectly and smoothly without Vel needing to give any visible instructions. “And my horsemanship could maybe do with some improving too.”

This was unexpected. He had so far barely interacted with Jeane, she was often in the company of Dina, after all. And if she wasn’t, she was unlikely to spend time in the same parts of the estate as him. The training areas were an exception of course. She’d never shown him any scorn or disrespect, but then she hadn’t had much of a chance to either. He remembered her apologetic smile though, and her surprising emotions, during that unpleasant encounter with his father’s party. She was looking at him like she expected a reply. “I would be happy to give you some pointers, of course, but I doubt’ your charge would approve.” Her expression darkened a bit at that. “With all due respect, my Lord, it is my duty to protect Lady Amordina to the best of my abilities. How I ensure that I am up to that task is not for her to decide.”

Wow. He hadn’t expected that reply. He gave her a nod, but also reached out for her mind. “That is fair. Okay then, I will be happy to offer some instruction. Is now a good time?” Her mind was not what he expected. There was a lot of respect, directed squarely at him. And it didn’t feel like just respect for his station, most of it had the… Texture? Yeah, the texture of earned respect. What could he possibly have done to earn the respect of this woman he’d barely interacted with? At his offer to teach her right now, she grew excited. “That would be excellent, my Lord.” She pushed off the fence to walk away before quickly turning back to him again, clearly a bit flustered. “Oh, apologies, my Lord, I need to get my horse ready, if you would be so kind as to wait, it should take no longer than 15 minutes.” Vel didn’t want her rushing things with her horse, that was where mistakes began. “Go right ahead, shield Jeane, and take your time. I am in no hurry.” She thanked him and hurried off. He couldn’t deny being intrigued by this girl.

She returned to him ahorse some 20 minutes later, apologizing for the delay, which Vel of course waved away. They cantered around the track for a bit, Vel observing her riding and offering advice, and all the while observing her mind. She wasn’t nervous, this was a woman confident in her abilities, confident enough to know and admit where she had room to improve. He respected that. And she clearly respected him, a lot. He realized that he wanted to know more about her, and not just to get a better idea about why she felt about him the way she did, though that was part of it.

“So, you are from Duvliel, right? How did you end up in The Lower Heartland?” Jeane nodded. “Yes, my Lord, I am. I am the middle child of 5, from a family with barely enough inheritance for one. It was always clear to me that I would have to make my own way in life, and when I discovered my gift for the sword at a young age, I put all my effort and energy into mastering it.” Vel briefly interrupted her to comment on a detail about her grip on the reins before telling her to continue. “My father and Stephan fought together in the third civil war, he wrote to him and vouched for me, which was enough for Stephan to offer me a position in the Andros household guard, and here I am.” There was no way old Kreibar would have offered her the position if he didn’t put a lot of stock in her father’s word, and no way she would have kept it if she didn’t live up to his standards. “Your father’s word might have gotten you the chance, but you must have worked hard and done well for yourself to keep the position. Old Kreibar is a harsh and demanding master.” Jeane’s chuckle seemed to contain a mixture of fondness and bitterness, which seemed apt. “Oh yes, the first few months were tough indeed. I swear, I can still feel the cane between my shoulder blades.” She kind of shuddered a bit. “I was such a cocky little recruit too. I’d done some enforcement work in my father’s fief, just some clearing out vagrants and dealing with some highwaymen, but I thought it made me pretty much a fighter already.” Vel could imagine what Stephan would think about that. “You must have had a rude awakening.” That chuckle again. “Oh yes, the old man made it quite clear what he thought about my so-called experience. As far as he was concerned, only what I showed him here mattered, and he found that quite lacking.”

They eventually moved on to the lancework. Vel loved the lance, it was the weapon of a noble, and one made for use on horseback. Jeane wielded it well, but there was indeed room for improvement. She took his advice well and quickly showed some minor improvement, he could feel his respect for her grow by the minute. Shame she was wasted on Dina. They’d kept chatting about their lives here and there, but Vel still wasn’t sure why she had such tremendous respect for him. He decided to just probe her. He sent a tiny part of his mind into hers just before she rode off to a pass with instructions to figure out how he had earned this impressive woman’s respect.

She returned from a quite frankly excellent pass, and just as she did, so too did the probe. Vel was prepared for the odd sensation of a piece of his mind slotting back into place this time and managed to keep talking about what a good pass it had been without interruption. As he sent her off to do another one, he examined what his little spy had brought back. This time the information wasn’t in the form of a memory he could view, but a collection of thoughts. More than anything, she seemed to respect his skill at arms and the obstacles he’d had to overcome to achieve it. Those obstacles being both his disability and his, in her own words (or thoughts), “terrible family”. Huh, he could really grow to like her. She also seemed to perceive some kind of kinship between the two of them because of it. She too had overcome adversity and challenges, those being her being born to low nobility in a backwater and being a woman. Female soldiers were not unheard of or even rare in the empire, but they were hardly the norm either. And in general, when it came to matters of fighting, they started at a disadvantage. Because of that, Jeane seemed to consider them kindred spirits to some degree. He found that quite endearing. She also seemed to admire that, despite the unkind treatment he faced, he remained a kind person. His expert horsemanship seemed to be something she had only really picked up on recently, but it had already had a bit of impact on her respect for him as well.

She returned from her most recent pass, and they decided to call it a day there. They returned to the stables together and he even let Jeane help him strap out and dismount. While the grooms took care of the horses, the two of them headed towards the estate, chatting about riding and fighting.