Part 3 (2/2)

Everything inside Mierna wanted to protest, to argue that she wasn't ready, that she needed more lessons yet. The strength of Elden's words, however, and the conviction etched on his features gave her a confidence that she would never have found on her own. Very slowly, she turned toward Gorden, and raised her sword in his direction. She saw his eyes widen as he shook his head, but she didn't stop.

”I challenge you,” she said with the smallest shaking in her voice, and it was done. Neither of them could back out of the fight now.

Gorden looked shocked, but it was nothing next to Carrel's reaction. His mouth opened and his lips moved, yet no sound came out. His eyes bulging, he looked in turn at Elden, Mierna and Gorden as though he could stop anything from happening with the strength of his stare. Already, though, Gorden was stepping forward.

”I hear your challenge,” he replied formally, and raised his sword in front of his face in a salute.

”No, no.” Carrel finally found his voice back. ”She did not mean that, Gorden, it's-”

Mierna did not have to say a word. Roan and the last of the Fighters, Shea, each took one of Carrel's arms and drew him back to give Mierna and Gorden some s.p.a.ce. Elden retreated as well, sliding his sword in the scabbard at his belt and crossing his arms. Mierna met his eyes and he nodded once. She breathed a little more easily at the confidence and encouragement she could see on his features. He believed in her. She nodded back. She could do this.

Feet placed just so. Hand tight on the hilt, but not clenched. Shoulders relaxed but ready. She struck first, and when her sword met Gorden's, the clash of metal was like a signal that the challenge had truly started. Back and forth, they attacked and parried. Gorden was taller, stronger than she was; his sword was a hand longer and heavier as well. But as Elden had pointed out, she had had a much better training, and so she held her own easily.

As they stepped around each other, attacking still but now with a few moments between each blow as they both tired, more Fighters began arriving. Mierna was aware of them, but at the same time she paid them no mind, the same way Elden had taught her to focus on her fight without allowing irrelevant information to distract her. They were forming a loose semi circle around Gorden and her, now, with only Elden on the other side. There were gasps and cheers whenever a blow looked like it would draw blood, but the rules of the challenge demanded that she disarm her adversary without harming him beyond a few scratches.

”Stop playing, Mierna,” Elden demanded suddenly. ”End it.” The quiet command brought a flush to Mierna's cheeks. She wanted to win, but she didn't want to humiliate Gorden by beating him too easily. If Elden had noticed, however, someone else might realize what she was doing as well. Better to end it, as Elden had said.

The next time he attacked, she feinted as Elden had taught her, and used Gorden's momentum against him. She hooked her hilt behind his, pulled hard, and when his sword clattered behind her she very slowly rested her blade against the side of his neck. He gave a start; the blade nicked his skin.

”Enough. The challenge is won.” Cayce and Roan's grandfather, the Eldest of the Fighters, raised a hand in Mierna's direction. ”You are one of us, Mierna.”

He sounded unhappy to have to make this p.r.o.nouncement, but Mierna didn't care. All that mattered was that she was a Fighter, now. She lowered her sword and cast a beaming smile toward Elden, who nodded his approval.

”You fought well,” Gorden said.

When Mierna looked back at him, there was a new respect in his eyes. It felt strange-and good-to finally be accepted as a Fighter.

”Why were we called for a challenge?” the Eldest asked, looking around as though unsure who might give him an answer.

Cayce had returned inside, and he was the one who replied. ”Eldest, I called a gathering for the vampire, not the challenge.”

At once, all eyes in the barn turned toward Elden. He appeared untouched by this new scrutiny, but Mierna could see the minute changes in his body. Whatever happened, however the Fighters reacted to his presence, he was ready. Slowly, so as not to be too conspicuous, Mierna moved toward him, slipping her sword back into its scabbard.

”You did not ask to enter our village,” the Eldest said. He was using his most formal voice, the one with which he made important announcements or p.r.o.nounced young couples married. ”By the age-old Pacts, you are required to do so.”

”He's only here because I asked him to teach me,” Mierna interjected.

At the same time, Elden said: ”The Pacts are long gone. I am not bound by them anymore.”

”Then neither are we,” Carrel said.

They were his first words since the challenge, and he had surmounted his shock. Now, he was angry again. He strode to Mierna, and before she could react, he had grabbed her left hand, pulled up her sleeve and raised her bare wrist for all to see. Gasps rose all around them at the sight of the bite marks.

Too late, Mierna pulled free and tugged her sleeve back down.

”Mother noticed it weeks ago,” he said, his eyes sharp and accusing as they found Mierna's. ”She pretended she was bitten by bugs.”

Mierna didn't flinch or look away. ”It was my choice.” ”That is not a choice you can make!” The Eldest seemed scandalized, his voice shaking in outrage. He looked at the Fighters around him as though holding them witness. ”The gift of blood and Pacts are the decision of a village, not the whim of one child.”

There were murmurs of approval from the Fighters. Mierna wanted to explain-she had only gone to Elden because none of them would help her. She didn't have time for it, though.

”I did not make a Pact with this child. We had a bargain, her blood against my teaching. Now that she is a Fighter the bargain is over.”

Trying desperately to find the words that would stop him, Mierna watched him as he went to untie his horse at the back of the barn. When he started for the door, leading the animal by the bridle, the Eldest signaled for the Fighters to open a path for Elden. Only when he stepped beyond the doors did she run after him, shaking off Carrel's hand when he tried to stop her.

”Wait!” she called out.

Elden already had one foot on the stirrup. He looked at her, but hoisted himself onto the horse anyway.

”So that's it?” she asked, pus.h.i.+ng the words past her tight throat. ”The 'bargain' is over and you leave without a goodbye?”

She was dimly aware that her words might be conveying too much. She had come to accept her feelings for Elden, but she was in no way ready to let him know about them. Still, she couldn't manage to stop herself, or to look at him with anything other than pleading.

”I gave you what you wanted,” Elden said, looking down at his gloves as he tugged on them listlessly.

”You're a fighter. And you actually have a chance to survive if you meet a demon.”

”A chance?” she repeated, surprised and disbelieving. ”I want more than a chance!”

The horse stomped its foot. Without thinking, Mierna grabbed the bridle. She wouldn't let Elden leave without receiving an answer first. She kept her eyes on his face, and after a few seconds, he returned her look. The strength of his stare startled her. In his eyes, she saw the same hunger that she had gotten used to seeing when he took her blood. But she could also guess a yearning stronger than she could comprehend, and it scared her despite herself.

”Two hundred years ago,” he said, his quiet voice shaking from being so intense, ”I would have been proud to call you my Childe. You're too stubborn for your own good, and determined, and in time you'll be a great fighter. But you weren't born two hundred years ago, and I have taught you all that I can. All I can hope is that the G.o.ds will protect you.”

His hand closed on hers on the bridle, and pried it off. Holding it tight, he pulled it up even as he bent down to press his lips to her knuckles. She could feel the touch long after he had gone. The slow realization that he had meant the gesture as a goodbye drew cold and ice to her better than the wind roaring around her.

Chapter 5.

Mierna had to knock for almost two minutes before the door finally opened in front of her. Sheswallowed back the annoyed comment that had risen to her lips and stared, shocked, at Elden's face.

”What happened?” she asked, unable to stop herself from reaching out. Her fingers ghosted over the black and purple bruises that marred his face. She didn't dare touch his skin, but even so he reared back and out of her reach.

”Demons,” was all he said.

”Demons?” An edge of hysteria was creeping up in Mierna's voice and she tried to control herself before she continued. ”You've always told me I ought to run rather than let demons-”

”Get close enough to lay a hand on you,” he finished for her. ”It doesn't mean it always works that way.”

He stopped and took a few seconds to look at her before asking, his voice gentler: ”Why have you come?”

She would have expected him to invite her in by now; it was the middle of the afternoon and the sun was bright, but the air was cold enough that her breath fogged in front of her. Still, he remained where he was, leaning against the door and blocking the way. The laces of his tunic were undone, and she could see that the bruises on his skin extended to his chest. She fisted her hand so she wouldn't be tempted to reach for him again.

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