Paladin

Chapter 8

Sam narrowed her eyes. Had Tristan said something untoward? “My training is fine.”

His lips twitched again into that small smile, like he knew something she didn’t. “Paladin Lyons tells me you have potential.”

“He did?” she asked, her cheeks heating. She’d thought Tristan would bite off his own tongue before paying her a compliment.

He chuckled. “Aye, he did, lad. He said you were a natural with a blade. High praise, that.”

Sam bowed her head. “Thank you, High Commander.”

“Did your father train you?”

“My father? He didn’t...well, no,” she fumbled. “He isn’t a swordsman, my father.”

“He must be proud.”

Sam bit the inside of her cheek. Her father didn't know where she'd run off to, and if he did, the last thing he would be was proud. “I suppose. I think he would have preferred that I, er, took over the family business.”

The High Commander raised an eyebrow. “And what's that?”

“Um. Shoemaking?” With more confidence, she repeated, “Shoemaking.”

The High Commander looked disappointed. He waved his hand. “No matter.”

Sam was beginning to grow impatient. “Excuse me, but shouldn’t we talk about what happened last night?”

He sighed. “I have already made up my mind.”

“But Braeden didn’t kill Paladin Shen! He couldn’t have!” she cried.

“I know.”

Sam blinked. “You know?”

“I spoke with Paladin Lyons and the coroner. I’m satisfied that Braeden is innocent.”

“Then why did you want to meet with me?” she asked, flabbergasted.

The High Commander smiled his small smile. “Curiosity."

Sam left the High Commander’s office thoroughly confused. He’d asked her a dozen more questions about Haywood and her family--most of which she’d had to lie about--but skirted away from any questions that touched on the demon attack of the previous night.

While the High Commander had assured her he believed in Braeden’s innocence, the trainees were convinced otherwise, and they considered Sam guilty by association. At breakfast, Braeden and Sam had the entire table to themselves. She hadn't minded until one of the trainees “accidentally” dumped a bowl of hot porridge onto their laps. The entire room laughed uproariously when Sam yelped as the scalding gruel seeped through her clothes and onto her skin. Braeden just sat there in stony silence, not even bothering to brush the gluey meal from his robes.  

Training wasn’t much better. Paladin Shen’s trainees were temporarily assigned to Tristan’s group. Despite their short time with the Paladin, Shen’s trainees took his death as a personal affront and were out for revenge. Braeden avoided their attempts to trip him up, but with Sam still favoring her left ankle, she had no such luck.

Braeden offered her a hand up. “Sorry about this.”

Sam dusted herself off and inspected a scrape on her elbow. “For what? It wasn’t you who pushed me.”

Braeden frowned. “True, but if it weren’t for me, they’d leave you alone.”

Sam shook her head. “Idiots, the lot of them.” She flinched as a stray foot connected with her shin.