“What’s the next step?” Benger asks.

  “Getting Atres used to his kit,” Emlyn smirks.

  Growing more serious, Emlyn continues, “If you’re going to be fighting among the Cymry, you won’t be doing it in that.”

  She flicks a dismissive finger against his leathers.

  “Just moving in proper kit is a skill of its own,” Emlyn says, “I’ve had years to develop my skill at it. I don’t know how soon Neit will be ready to attempt whatever he’s planning, so I don’t know how long I have to teach you. That means getting started sooner rather than later is a priority. You might not be running up walls in it anytime soon, but you’ll be able to handle yourself in a ring.”

  “What do you mean by running up walls?” Benger asks.

  “Wait until we’re back at the inn,” Emlyn says, “I’ll demonstrate. I don’t think I can do it in my kit right now, but I’m confident I can do it in just my clothes. When I told Argonath I can do things in my plate that you can’t in that leather, I don’t think he believed me, but it’s true. I can step off a fairly high drop - maybe twenty or thirty feet - and land on an opponent without hurting myself while dealing them a devastating blow. I’m right at ten stone in my kit, and from a drop like that, they’re going to feel it. Gods help them if I can get into a position to cleave them when I drop instead of just using them as a squishy cushion. If you did that in this leather, you’d probably break both legs. I’ve jumped like that before and watched the group I was fighting scatter in fear. I had to go chase them down.”

  Laughing Emlyn adds, “Running after them was a bit tricky because I kept slipping in yellow puddles.” Growing more serious, she continues, “I can bash the stuffing right out of someone with just my shield. Benger’s been on the receiving end of one of those blows. Imagine if I had kept hitting you with my shield.”

  Benger grimaces and nods, “She bent the plates in my brigantine so badly I couldn’t breathe, and that was just one hit. I can’t imagine what shape I’d be in if you’d just kept hitting me.”

  “It wouldn’t be good,” Emlyn nods, “If I can get up enough speed, I can get my shield under an opponent and throw them onto their back or over mine so the person behind me can finish them off. Oftentimes, finding themselves flat on their back either stuns them or surprises them enough to gain the upper hand in the fight. Occasionally, it knocks them right out. I can ignore most arrows and some crossbow bolts since they just bounce off. With the proper kit, you must be very close or have a very powerful weapon to penetrate good plate armor. Most thrown weapons, like throwing knives and those things like bladed chains you were looking at in storage, don’t have much effect on someone in plate, either. The thrown weapons usually just bounce off. Axes are an exception to that. Some axes have enough force behind them when they’re thrown properly to pierce plate.”

  “What about the chains?” Benger asks.

  “Those are a little different,” Emlyn explains. “The chains can be a bit tricky to deal with. You have to make sure you don’t get too tangled up to move effectively. As a rule, the chains are often more of a problem for the person wielding them.”

  “How so?” Atres asks.

  “To wield them properly, the person wielding them is usually attached to the other end in some fashion. If I can trap their chain, say around my vambrace, and get a good pull on it, I can pull them in close enough to finish them off.”

  “What else can you do?” Atres asks curiously.

  “Once you add in some of the more advanced techniques like punching and kicking, I don’t necessarily need a weapon to hurt you. Some of these are more effective if you’re not wearing armor, but the same techniques work on anyone in inferior plate or lighter armor like your leathers. You’ve seen me knock someone out with a punch. If I throw that same punch wearing my plate and gauntlets, now your jaw is broken, maybe even dislocated too. If you’re wearing inferior armor, I can punch or kick hard enough to bend it. It’s hard to fight when your shoulder can’t move much or your knee can’t bend or your cuirass is digging into your ribs, keeping you from breathing properly.”

  “Keep in mind,” Emlyn continues in her teaching mode, “That this is all before I ever get a weapon in my hands. Once I get a weapon, everything changes. If you have inferior plate, I’ll go for a war hammer and peel you right out of it. I could get a war hammer or mace and dent it up so badly you can’t move or breathe. If I don’t care if you survive the process or not, then it’s time to start punching holes through it.”

  “Like the swords you commissioned for me,” Atres says, nodding.

  “A good strike with those,” Emlyn nods, “with the kind of force you deliver will punch through most armor.”

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  “And you talked Argonath into getting in a ring with you in your plate,” Benger grins, “No wonder you were so happy about that.”

  “We’ll have plenty of healers around,” Emlyn grins, “but I do mean to demonstrate just why we’re more effective in our plate. I understand his stance about mobility and some of the reasons that you all love your leather. The look is very distinctive. For what you do, most of the time, it’s sufficient. In some cases, especially if you must sneak around somewhere, it might even be superior. No one is completely quiet in full plate. Your leathers are also much faster to make up and less expensive, too. In proper kit, mobility isn’t so much of an issue. I’ve seen people do handstands and even cartwheels in proper kit.”

  Hearing the door open, Kethas looks out, and to his surprise, it’s Brarazo.

  “Have a seat,” Kethas calls, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Nia said she was staying here,” Brarazo says, looking around. “I was wondering if she’s in. I owe her a drink.”

  Moving his pan off the stove, Kethas stomps out of the kitchen.

  Glaring at Brarazo, Kethas says, “You stay away from that girl, you hear me.”

  Laughing and holding his hands up, Brarazo grins, “Nothing like that, Kethas. I owe her an apology.”

  “What exactly do you owe her an apology for?” Kethas says, crossing his arms and frowning.

  Still laughing, Brarazo tells Kethas about the incident with Atres’s coat, Rirdec being insulting, Nia cutting all their saddle cinches, and then coming back, at Atres’s behest, to get them on their way again, with Rirdec tied, unconscious, to his saddle. Kethas smirks at how neatly Emlyn handled them.

  “Is she really King’s Guard?” Brarazo asks, and Kethas confirms it.

  Kethas nods, “She is. They’re trying to get her whole cohort of paladins under contract. None of them will take the King’s Guard oath because of the oaths they’ve already sworn to their Goddess, but they’re not opposed to working under a contract so long as they don’t get asked to violate any of their oaths to their Goddess.”

  “I think she might be the first woman ever,” Brarazo says, “I don’t know that there’s ever been one, even in Iridon. She’s none too pleased about it either. She had some choice words about being forced to join a ‘ridiculous boys ‘ club’.”

  “She’s right about that,” Kethas laughs, “The King’s Guard has been all-male for a very long time. Many of them won’t take well to having a woman around. She’ll have to deal with more than a few who think like Rirdec. Plenty of men won’t want to follow her into a fight.”

  “Would you? Follow her into a fight, I mean?” Brarazo asks.

  “When she’s healed up a bit more,” Kethas nods, “I would. We sparred a bit out in the courtyard. She held her own, and I’m twice her size. Once her endurance and her strength are back, I’d follow her. I can’t fault her for not wanting to put up with all that, though. Argonath’s asking for a lot without realizing it.”

  “Dorak’s pretty taken with her skill,” Brarazo shrugs, “If Argonath’s twisting the screws on her, tell her to shop around to some of the other groups.”

  “I can’t say for sure,” Kethas shrugs, “but I think right now it’s more of the devil you know with her and Argonath. She’s wise to his tricks after that thing with the ten-stone.”

  Brarazo laughs, “I’d heard about that. I think everyone’s heard about it. By the time Argonath deducted all the pay and expenses from his group for it, it was pretty reasonable.”

  “Hrmph,” Kethas grumbles, “He’s set Atres to watching her and then had the gall to try to make her pay to have her own beau spying on her. I heard that there were some quite cross words about that.”

  “Why would Argonath put Atres to watch her?” Brarazo asks.

  “She hasn’t even been consecrated for two whole tendays yet,” Kethas shrugs, “but she can already do things that paladins that have been consecrated for years can’t do. No one knows why or how much more powerful she’ll become.”

  Frowning, Brarazo asks, “She said she’d been a paladin for four years.”

  “Her god died,” Kethas says, “She was reconsecrated just over a tenday ago. Right after Midwinter Day.”

  “But why Atres? He’s clearly gone for her,” Brarazo says.

  “I doubt anyone else could get close enough,” Kethas shrugs, “Her Temple and her cohort are all very protective of her. She’s not particularly trusting either.”

  “Given Atres’s reputation, I’m surprised that he’d chase after a paladin or that a paladin would be interested in him,” Brarazo shrugs.

  “They seem to balance each other out,” Kethas says, “in ways I wouldn’t have expected.”

  While the two men are talking, the door opens again, and Kethas turns to look to see who’s come in. He sees Atres, laden with bags, holding the door for Emlyn and Benger, following behind, laden with more bags.

  “Gods above, girl,” Kethas mock growls at her, “Did you buy out half the market?”

  “Not nearly,” Emlyn grins, “but I did get you something.”

  The bags get deposited on one of the tables, and Emlyn sorts through them to find the one she wants. Reaching in, she pulls out a cleaver and lays it across her palms, offering it to Kethas.

  “This,” Emlyn grins, “seemed like it was a fitting thanks for your kindness. Since you cut up meat to feed your birds, I thought you could make good use of it by feeding Sea Hunter and Fish Killer and share my thanks with them, too.”

  “Hrmph,” Kethas replies, but picks up the cleaver, “This is a nice one, but you didn’t have to do this.”

  “You also did not have to do many of the things you have done,” Emlyn replies, “I wanted to be sure that you know that they’re appreciated.”

  “Good news,” Kethas grins, “Fish Killer returned with even better news. Three of my kin are headed down the mountain. They had to go the long way, so it will take them a bit to get here.”

  She greets Brarazo and carries the rest of her purchases upstairs. While she’s there, she takes a moment to swap out her boots. The ones she’s just put on don’t have the metal clips for her cats’ claws.

  She comes back downstairs and grins at Benger. “I believe I owe you a demonstration. You wanted to see what it means to run up a wall, so let me show you.”

  Emlyn heads out to the courtyard, where she does a few exercises to loosen up. Finally, she sets herself up and launches into a sprint at the wall. Instead of running into it, she manages to get a few steps up it before pushing off. She tucks a bit and rotates in mid-air, landing on her feet. Turning at an angle, still running, she runs partway up the wall, but this time she gets a few steps down the length of the wall before pushing off and landing on her feet again.

  Boltir’s Atres Watch Current Count: 1 "Secret Revealed" and 1 "Status Check" pending.

  Observation: "Astridir gave Atres a piece of advice that made my own chin-hair curl: check her tattoo. Among the Cymry, the height of the ink determines the status. If it reaches her cheeks, she’s practically royalty. Atres looks like he’s about to have a mental collapse trying to figure out if he’s courting a simple soldier or a long-lost princess. I’m giving him 5 points for his dedication, but docking him 10 for his sheer ignorance of her heritage. Meanwhile, Thorvar thinks Nia is 'hiding' her true name, and honestly? A woman with secrets is the best kind of muse."

  Boltir’s Tip Jar Current Total: 60 coppers, a translucent porcelain shard, and Snips (the crab) is currently trying to use a discarded dwarven loupe to inspect the quality of the coins.

  Boltir’s Plea: "Did you hear that? Thorvar says she never took her gloves off, even for the bread and salt. She’s got ink on those hands, lads! Toss a copper in the jar so I can buy Snips a tiny 'History of the Multiverse' book—he’s decided he’s a scholar now and keeps snapping at anyone who mispronounces 'Elia'. Also, leave a review if you think Atres is in way over his head with a girl who might be older and more powerful than the city she's standing in!"