Training Continues: Lorican Gets in a Blow

Writers: Estelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 14th December 2019
Series: The Assassin's Husband

Characters: Lusilk, Lorican
Description: Lorican improves on his training
Location: Barrier Lake Weyr
Date: month 13, day 27 of Turn 10
Notes: Mentioned: Dunrik

Lusilk

At first, Lorican had dreaded the regular training sessions with Lusilk.
They left him bruised, humiliated and despairing of ever being able to
protect himself from someone like her, and if circumstances had been
different he'd have written to the Smith Hall begging for another
posting. He knew, however, that to quit within a few sevendays would
annoy Master Dunrik and do his prospects for promotion and a return to
Dolphin Cove no good.

So he'd stuck it out, and slowly it started to get better. He learned to
dodge and block her attacks, so he didn't end up quite so sore by the
end of the evening, and her comments on his technique became slightly
less cutting. He began to get a feel for the rhythms of the Weyrhold and
the crafter village, enough to notice anything out of place.

Disappearing so often with the same woman had brought new problems.
Lorican had noticed two of the woodcrafters he knew nudging each other
and grinning as he turned down their offer of playing cards that
evening, and the colour which rose to his cheeks as he realised what
they thought he was up to only made it worse. He could only hope none of
the rumours got back to Dolphin Cove, for he didn't know how he'd
explain it to Urlene.

That day, he'd received the marks he'd earned from his work, so he
carefully counted out half and stored the rest in his locked box with
his letters and papers. At last he'd have something to send his brother.
Not as much as he'd hoped, but as painful as it was, he'd no intention
of trying to cheat Lusilk. It wasn't worth the risk. Then he collected
one of the hammers he didn't think would be missed from the forge and a
small item he'd been working on, and headed for the copse where they
met, trying not to attract attention.

Silgan sat with his legs crossed, stacking twigs and sticks into a
rough cube shape. Looking up as Lorican entered into the copse, gave a
sweet smile, then rose to hurry over towards the man. Taking Lorican's
hand, he pulled him towards the small stack of sticks. Pointing
silently at what he'd built, he grinned up at Lorican.

He crouched down beside the boy and examined the little construction of
sticks, taking care not to knock it askew. "That's fine work, Silgan. Is
it a cot?"

The little boy nodded eagerly and proudly pointed to the other pile of
sticks. Sitting, he crossed his legs and began to carefully stack the
sticks in a rudimentary roof, his tongue thrust out in concentration.
Every once in a while, he'd glance up as if to make sure Lorican was
watching, then continued in his play.

"He likes to build things." Lusilk spoke quietly, her eyes watching
their interaction with interest, eyes flicking between her son and
Lorican. The child desperately sought masculine approval and was often
seen around older men, listening and learning from the crafters that
surrounded him in his new home. He particularly liked Dunrik and
Bilpen and often trailed after them, emulating the two men's
behaviors. Thankfully, the two men never seemed to mind giving her son
the attention that he craved. She could also readily acknowledge that
it wouldn't be a bad idea for Lorican to grow attached to him. If the
worst happened, then it would give Lorican far more reason to protect
her son.

"So I see." Lorican imagined the boy must have been watching the work
going on all over the Weyrhold. The layout was ever-changing, with
temporary shelters being pulled down and new buildings going up in their
place, so his sketches were out-of-date almost before they were
finished. He smiled at Silgan. "Maybe you'll be a crafter when you grow
up, eh?"

Silgan smiled brightly up at Lorican, then settled back down to play
with a wiggle of his bottom. "Perhaps." Lusilk's tone was
noncommittal. "He does like to watch the crafters and he has plenty of
time to choose." She glanced at the hammer hanging at his side and
gestured for him to follow her into the clearing. "Come on. We've got
work to do." She looked down at her son and then smiled, her gaze
gentling for a moment. "Stay here, Silgan."

He stood, then remembered what else he'd brought. "Yes, but first - I
made him a gift. It's a small thing." Like her, Lorican had been
thinking about the possibility that he'd have to take Silgan to Sunstone
Seahold. It was a long journey, and they might be pursued. He'd need the
boy to trust him.

Cautiously, he reached into his pocket and brought out a set of
interlocked metal shapes. Lorican had thought hard about what he could
make that a child would like. Nothing sharp or dangerous - he didn't
want to think about how horrible his fate would be if the boy managed to
hurt himself with it. He'd learned to make this simple toy as an
apprentice, and knew it to be safe and too large to swallow. "It's a
puzzle. You have to separate the pieces. There's a trick to it." He
demonstrated, twisting the metal loops apart, then putting them back
together. "Is it all right?"

The moment he said 'gift', Silgan's head jerked up and his eyes
gleamed with pleasure and excitement. He jumped up and began to hop on
his toes with eagerness, his eyes flicking between his mother and
Lorican. When the smith brought out the metal rings, Silgan clapped
his hands, a happy smile spreading over his mouth. He began to reach
out for them, then paused, looking at his mother in askance.

Lusilk made a show of pursing her lips, tilting her head, and
considering the gift carefully even as Silgan began shifting from foot
to foot, fingers twitching. Finally, she gave a soft laugh and waved
her hand. "Yes, sure. It's fine. I've seen the like before. He knows
not to put them in his mouth."

"Good. Here you are, lad. See if you can solve it." Lorican dropped the
rings into Silgan's waiting hands, greatly relieved that his work had
met with her approval. "Oh, and I, uh, brought something for you, too."
He took out the purse of marks. "Half of my earnings, since I got here."

Silgan immediately set to work trying to solve the ring puzzle and
promptly became absorbed with it, ignoring the two adults completely.
Lusilk watched him for only a moment before plucking the purse from
Lorican's hands and tucked it into her belt. "Good. As agreed." She
waved him away from her son towards the middle of the clearing. "You
know, if you stop sending your wastrel of a brother marks, you'd have
more for yourself."

"Yes, but he was young when our father died and he hasn't..." He
followed her, then stopped, frowning. "Wait. How do you know about my
brother?" A moment later, realization dawned and the frown deepened to a
scowl. "Have you been reading my private letters?"

Lusilk raised her brows, a hint of a smile curling on her lips. "I would
have thought that was obvious. Not the sappy syrupy ones, of course, at
least not any more. Faranth, I was about ready to drown and choke in
the sweet. Do you really send that drivel to your woman?"

The smith's scowl turned to a full glare. That lock on the chest in
his quarters! He'd known it was no good. Tomorrow, he promised himself,
his first job in the smithy would be to forge a new one.

"You had no right to do that. Didn't anyone ever teach you that it's
wrong to read other people's..." As he spoke, he remembered how he'd got
into this mess in the first place and his voice trailed off, his anger
shifting to deep embarrassment. "Uh, well. Stay out of my
correspondence. There's nothing to interest you there."

Lusilk shrugged, pointedly making no promises to do as he asked. "Your
brother needs to grow up, Lorican. The lack of a father isn't an
excuse. Now, enough talk. Show me what you can do with that hammer of
yours. " She drew her dagger and flipped it in her hand. "Let's see if
you can take what I've taught you and start using it. " Without warning,
she thrust out a blow.

He barely dodged the blade, stumbling back a step and reaching for the
hammer at his belt. Shards, he'd never get used to the way she went from
stillness to deadly action in a heartbeat. Keeping a wary distance, he
wrapped his fingers loosely around the hammer's wooden handle and swung
it before him, hoping it would distract her, keep her from getting too
close. The motion was familiar, comforting somehow.

**Swing from the shoulder. Let the weight of the head do the work.**
That had been drilled into him as an apprentice. Of course, none of the
masters had expected that their students would use their tools as
weapons. And he couldn't hold her off like this forever; eventually
she'd get through his guard. He'd seen how fast she could be. He let the
momentum of the swing build, then brought the hammer down in an arc
towards her shoulder.

Lusilk danced back from the swing of the hammer. "Good job. You've got
the longer reach and you've got an advantage over me with that and
your strength. But you've got to learn not to stay on the defensive.
This," she held up her dagger, "is meant mainly for thrusting. It can
be thrown, but there's too much of a chance to miss for it to be
really effective." She gestured to his chest. "As you've learned. That
means I'm going to have to get close. If I get close, it's a risk for
me because it leaves me open to a strike from your hammer. But..." She
whirled around to the side and darted behind him, laying the point of
her blade against his neck. "I'm quick and you get distracted. You've
got to be just as quick and never trust anyone."

Lorican grimaced. One day, he promised himself, he'd last more than half
a minute before she had that knife at his throat. "I'd been thinking
about that. If I'm attacked in the forge, or most places in the
Weyrhold, won't it be better to hold them off until someone calls the
guards? Then they can deal with it." He could freely admit to himself
that he disliked the idea of striking another person, even a would-be
murderer, with his hammer.

"And how did that work out for you last time?" Lusilk stepped back,
sheathing her dagger. "You willing to have Dunrik's forge blow up in
the middle of the night while he and his son are sleeping?" Her brow
rose. "Trust me, that consideration won't matter to whoever comes for
you. They won't care." She rolled her shoulders. "Most likely, they'll
come at night or when they can catch you alone. I watched you for a
long time, learned your schedule, when you were alone, when you moved
about...But if it comes down to it, it won't matter who you're with.
Getting the job done is."

He stared at her in dismay. It hadn't struck him until now that he
brought real danger with him, wherever he went. He liked and respected
Master Dunrik; how could he repay the other man by endangering him and
his son? For a moment he wondered if he should leave after all, fade
into the anonymity of a small hold, far from anywhere, or go North. But
then what? Would he be still able to practice his craft if he abandoned
his post? Would he ever see Urlene again?

"All right, then. I have to take them down quickly." He adjusted his
grip on the hammer, tensed to swing it, then hesitated. "Wait - you were
watching me, at the sea hold?" He shook his head. "Don't you get tired
of spying on me?"

"Of course I was. Whoever comes for you will do the same. It's part of
the job." Lusilk snorted, but kept an eye on the tension in his
shoulder. "You're actually a bit boring, but knowledge is power,
Lorican. Especially personal knowledge that exposes weaknesses. And you
have quite a few that can be exploited."

Lorican thought back, trying to remember how he'd behaved at the sea
hold. He couldn't think of anything out of the ordinary, but it was an
uncomfortable thought, to know he'd been watched. He heaved a sigh,
relaxing his arm so the hammer hung loosely at his side. "Go on, then.
Tell me about my weaknesses. I can't wait to hear them."

"Your brother you love is one. The woman in the weyr is another. What
would happen if either of them were threatened? You'd fold and give
up. You're an idealist and think the world is a honorable place." Her
lips twisted bitterly. "It's not. You see the best in people but not
in yourself. You lack confidence. If you tried, you could overpower
me. You could have killed me or exposed me at the seahold and you
didn't. You could have used those letters to your advantage, but you
didn't. You did the 'honorable' thing and look what it's costing you."
Lusilk's bitterness extended to her eyes now. "Honor and love are for
fools, Lorican. Attachments can be deadly. You need to learn that if
you're going to survive who ever is hunting you."

His eyes widened slightly, but where there might have been anger in his
gaze, there was only surprise and a measure of compassion. What kind of
life had she led, Lorican wondered, to see the world as such a bleak and
vicious place? To regard killing a man as just another way to earn a
living, the same as he might forge a nail or mend a broken tool.

"Perhaps you're right, but I can't choose to stop loving those people.
They're part of me, and always will be." He touched his chest lightly
with the palm of his free hand, covering the place over his heart where
her knife had scarred him. "You must know what I mean. You have someone
that you love." He glanced over her shoulder to where her son waited,
still focused on his puzzle. "You wouldn't give him up, no matter the
cost. To earn protection for him, you'd even spend your evenings
teaching some foolish smith to fight."

Lusilk saw the look and her eyes hardened. "Don't pity me, Lorican.
Don't ever make that mistake." She knew where he was looking, but
didn't follow his gaze.If anything her jaw tightened at the reminder.
"I do. And Silgan is my weakness. My love for him will likely be the
death of me; I accepted that when I chose to keep him." She
straightened. "But I would give him up if I had to, to keep him safe.
You're part of that plan. I can't protect him when and if I'm dead."

"Well. Let's hope it doesn't come to that." Despite all that had
happened between them, and the infuriating ease with which she managed
to get under his skin, he didn't wish her death. The discovery that
she'd sought peace at the Weyrhold for herself and her child had
transformed her from the figure of fear and nightmare that she'd been
since the attack, and he wasn't sure yet where that left them.

His fingers tightened on the hammer, the muscles tensing in his shoulder
and back as he shifted his weight fractionally. "Since there's nothing
to be done about either of our weaknesses, we'd best build on our
strengths." Trying to match her speed, he brought the hammer down in a
swift, sharp blow aimed at her head.

His distraction worked and his strike was a good one. Lusilk was able to
dodge enough to keep the hammer from striking its intended target, but
felt it glance down her upper arm with a jolt of pain. Pain, however,
was an old acquaintance and she danced aside, keeping her injured arm
close as she ignored the throbbing complaint. She lashed out in response
giving him a quick double tap to his ribs, then a kick to the back of
his knee.

He'd been too surprised - and horrified - that he'd actually hit her to
react and block her, and the blow to his leg caught him hard. The limb
buckled and he nearly dropped to one knee, grimacing in pain as he
stumbled back. "Oh - shards! Sorry!" Instinctively, he raised a hand to
her arm. "Are you hurt?"

With an annoyed snort, Lusilk smacked Lorican's hand away. "Of course it
hurts. Don't fecking apologize, you dolt. You did what you were
supposed to do. Good distraction and you got a good hit in. You should
have followed through with it and kept me off balance, not let me have
enough time to throw you off with that kick. Next time keep going. "
She shook her arm. There'd be a bad bruise and she'd be sore later, but
nothing was broken.

"Right. Sor..." He cut himself off before he could apologize again and
straightened, looking down at the hammer in his hand as if it was
suddenly unfamiliar to him. He'd tried not to think of what it could do
to someone, but now it was unavoidable. "Perhaps I'd better wrap the
head in cloth next time, all the same. You can't protect me if I break
your arm, and we'd have a hard time explaining how it happened."

"Don't." Lusilk shook her head. "If you manage to hit me again, it'll
be because I deserve it for not being quick or alert enough." She rolled
her shoulders. "This isn't play, Lorican. The bruise is a lesson for
me, just like yours are for you. Just try to pull any killing blows, if
you can. Blood splatter would be harder to explain." She finally
quirked her lips up in a smile. "Good job. Now try again. "

Lorican doubted that he'd be so lucky the next time, despite her praise,
but he raised the hammer anyway and backed up a pace, trying to ignore
his sore knee and focus on the wicked gleam of her knife, waiting for
any hint of an opening. It was strange, he thought briefly, how the more
he learned and the closer he got to striking her, the less he wanted to
to any such thing.

Last updated on the December 18th 2019

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Training Continues: Lorican Gets in a Blow