Twisted Tales

A Decision is Reached

I didn't go back into the kitchen to tell Erik and Jack what the witch has just told me right away. I needed to think it over for a while, to let her words sink in. I headed back to my room instead and stripped off my grimy dress, giving myself a light wash with the basin of water and hand towel that the maid left out for me. She laid a change of clothes out on the bed as well, but it was a fine dress and I knew I'll eventually have to ask for something that's a little more appropriate for adventuring. Still, it was clean and I'm not adventuring at this exact second, so the dress would do for now.

I laid the dress from the fairy godmother on the bed in its place, a little sadly. It really was beautiful, it's such a shame to see it crumpled and soiled like this. Maybe the royal seamstress could save it. Not that I could take it with me or anything, but it could at least find new life in the wardrobe of some other lucky girl.

Then I sat on the bed next to the dress, and tried to think.

* * *

Jack spent the rest of the day being fantastically sick, so I kept what I'd learned from the witch to myself for the time being, preferring to go over with with both Jack and Erik together before deciding anything.

Instead, Erik and I spent the day collecting supplies for the next leg of our journey. Charming had given us leave to take just about anything we wanted as an expression of gratitude for what we'd done, and we had half a dozen servants rushing around getting us fresh supplies.

Our supply of food was restocked; we requested and got a change of clothes each; we got fresh rope and an axe; Erik got a new quiver of arrows for his bow; and best of all, Charming had us each supplied with a sword of our own.

I was insanely excited about this. There's nothing quite like being handed a deadly, pointy weapon and being told to go crazy. I was given a short sword, something relatively light that I could wield one-handed, or so the arms master assured me. He vastly over-estimated my upper body strength though, and after about five minutes holding the thing up, my arm already ached. I took it out into the gardens and gleefully practiced swinging it around, hacking leaves off of topiary bushes while Erik stood nearby, watching me rather critically.

"Have you ever even held a sword before?" he asked after a particularly wild swing unbalanced me and I almost toppled over.

"Yes I have," I replied defensively.

"When?"

"...Last night. But how hard can it be to swing around a piece a metal?"

"Dear God, you're going to get yourself killed."

"Have you ever used a sword before?"

"Enough to make me an expert compared to you. You're swinging too wide, you're leaving all your vital parts exposed. You don't have a long enough reach for that."

He came over to help me readjust my grip and my stance.

"There. I don't know much about sword play, but that should help at least a little."

"It feels better," I admitted, bending my knees a little. "More balanced."

His own sword was hanging in a sheath at his hip. It was much longer than mine, to make up for his fairly short stature since he can handle the extra weight just fine. It was an arming sword, the arms master said, and it's that quintessential knight's sword, like Excalibur. Jack had received a side sword: a long, thin, rapier-like sword, but heavier, more sturdy. It would extend his already impressive reach by about a mile, and was made for thrusting and stabbing rather than hacking and cutting like Erik's.