The Prince's Angel

Chapter Six - Kindness and Captors

Where did she learn this? was all Stefan could think as he watched Atara. Jotham swung his blade sideways, dangerously close to Atara's head, but she ducked and twisted her staff sideways, pushing him backward. Abruptly, she flipped the staff from one hand to another and came at Jotham. Stefan could see that Jotham was working hard to keep up. His longish hair had come loose from its clasp, and in the hot sunlight, sweat glinted on his forehead.

Jotham tried a blunt force swing from the side, both hands on the grip for more force to back the blow, but Atara's staff caught it, and with an agile move Stefan could barely see, she forced his sword to the ground, both of them bent nearly double.

With Jotham's disadvantage of having to regain his balance, Atara's long leg caught his ankle, and he went down on his back. Before he could even grunt, Atara had the sword point at his chest and her staff poised in her other hand.

She didn't offer any choice words of jest to her defeated opponent. She simply extended her hand to him, all the while smiling readily.

She enjoys this, Stefan realized.

Another thing he realized was that their congregation had grown. Looking around, the onlooking boys had been joined by several apprentices from the Forum, along with a few hard-faced mentors. Even Damon Hillward, his father's newly appointed General-in-command, was observing nearby, his arms crossed and an amused look on his face.

Soon, Atara had paired students to spar with one another, oblivious of the older mentor's whispers, and went from child to child, correcting their positions or their unsteady grip on the weapon.

Only when Atara looked up, did she seem to notice the sizable crowd she'd gathered. Embarrassed, she took Torin and Stefan's hands. "I'm sorry, boys, we can go on that picnic now."

"Miss! Excuse me, miss." Damon had run up to them, panting, preventing Atara's quick exit. "That was... quite the display, if you don't mind me saying so."

"Thank you, sir," she replied warily.

"Where did you learn such skills, if I may ask? Surely you must have been trained in a prestigious court."

At this, Atara's expression became guarded. Her eyes flitted to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm... not at liberty to say."

"Quite alright. But I noticed you have a way with capturing the young ones' attention. Would you be interested in a teaching position, here at the Forum?"

Damon hadn't even finished his question before Atara was shaking her head. "I... I have a job already. But thank you, for your offer. We have to be off now, don't we?" She looked at Stefan, who nodded eagerly, and at Torin, who frowned.

As they left the training fields, Stefan couldn't help but wonder why Atara had been so anxious to escape the conversation. As if she were trying to hide something.

But he quickly dismissed the idea. She was probably just flustered.

()()()

The little group, consisting of a tall woman with a self-assured stride and two gangly young boys, trooped through town, walking at a leisurely pace. Atara stopped to admire the luscious cakes and pastries in the bakery window. Stefan wondered why she would stop if she knew they couldn't buy anything, but she told the boys to wait outside, and stepped into the shop.

A few moments later, Atara came back out with two brown paper bags. "A surprise for later," she said, winking.

She led them out of Semora on the main city road, through a maze of cornfields and vineyards, past swarms of workers tending the fields. Stefan couldn't help noticing how poor some of them looked. Dirty, patched shirts and torn trousers showed the hardships of their lives, but to his surprise, most of them were smiling, even laughing merrily as they worked in the choking dust and the heat.