Ashur walked the overgrown road that led to their house. He had no idea what was wrong with his sister, but he knew she would tell him when she was ready. She weighed next to nothing compared to the logs and rocks he had been hauling all day, so carrying her was no problem. Her crying, shuddering body slowly went limp. He paused and looked down at her.
He moved her so he could see her face. Her eyes were closed and she was breathing evenly, she was asleep.
He shrugged and kept going.
The trees and shrubs still glistened with moisture from the morning and previous day. The forest looked fresh and renewed. Ashur took it all in, breathing in the forest smells. Towering oaks stood on either side of the road like sentries. He made a living clearing land like this, but he still appreciated the untamed forest. To this day he had no idea what had prompted his father to take them all to the edge of the wilderness, but it wasn't all bad.
This was always how it was when he came to pick up Cass (except of course that she was usually awake). He would leave his work of taming the woods for King and local Lord and take some time to enjoy the land he lived in. Cass hated school and often their walks home would consist of her pointing out the atrocities committed by that Clayhorn girl. It had been on these walks that he had quietly begun teaching her how to defend herself. The more she told him about the nastier personalities in her school the more convinced he became that such training was necessary. The only problem was father. Father was against it.
This was a surprise because his father had gone to such great lengths to train him. They practiced swordplay mostly, now, but his father had taught him how to fight without weapons, how to fight with a knife, how to fight with just his feet, as well as using bow and crossbow. Originally, this was all done under the guise of teaching him "how to take care of himself." Now it was simply Father-Son-Time. He believed his father had another reason for training him. He likely had another reason for not training Cass as well, but since he never gave him a good reason, and since Ashur didn't want to see some urchin rearrange his sister's face, he had disobeyed his father's orders.
He looked down at her; she was moaning and starting to move in her sleep. Cass had always had vivid nightmares. She struggled harder against his arms. Her head shook back and forth and her hands clutched her sides. Her moaning and mumblings began to sound more like words, but he couldn't make any of them out.
By the time he was in view of the house Cass was practically trying to attack him. His iron grip kept her from flailing about, but she squirmed and struggled. She had started crying again and she had a sheen of sweat coating her skin as well. Ashur kept his grip as he came to the door. Just as he was about to carry her to her bed, her eyes snapped open and she went still. Her eyes were crusty from dried tears and wide with fear. Then she seemed to realize where she was and get a hold of herself. Ashur set her down gently and waited for her to say something.
"Are you okay?" he asked finally, when she hadn't spoken for a while.
She shook her head and stared at the floor.
He reached out and held her close. She hugged him back and they sat like that for a time, neither one saying anything to the other. Ashur would normally return to work shortly after taking his sister home, but he wouldn't leave his sister in such a state. He gently took a washcloth and cleaned her face. She let him but stayed silent. Time passed and just as the sun sank below the horizon, father walked through the door.
Ashur stood up, prepared for a lecture about not showing up to work and responsibility, but Abdiel didn't even glance at him. The big man cleared the room and knelt in front of his daughter. He reached out and stroked her hair. She looked up at him for a moment, her face puffy and red from crying. Then she looked down again. Her father watched her, concern showed in his blue eyes.
"Would you like some time alone?" he asked gently.
Cass nodded without looking up. Her father rose to his feet and walked back towards the door. Ashur followed close behind. Abdiel walked around the back of the house and picked up one of the practice swords that rested against the wall. Wordlessly, Ashur grabbed his as well, if they were going to give Cass time to work out whatever it was she needed to work out fencing seemed as good a way as any to pass the time.
No sooner had he removed his practice sword from the wall than his father assumed a fighting stance. Ashur turned to face him and settled in a stance of his own. For a few moments they just stood there with there practice swords slightly raised, each one poised to strike.
Abdiel struck first. He came at his son with astonishing speed in a mock thrust that swung to the side at the last minute knocking Ashur's sword aside and leaving him wide open. Then he brought the sword up smoothly to strike at Ashur's neck. Ashur jumped back in the nick of time then he brought his sword up and attempted a slash at his father's chest. Abdiel deflected it easily and they began hacking and thrusting and parrying at each other, moving smoothly across the leaf covered clearing behind their house.
"What happened to her?" asked Abdiel as they fought.
"I don't know," grunted Ashur deftly blocking an attack and moving in with a thrust that was easily parried. It always amazed him how quick his father was able to move. The man's size didn't slow him down at all.
"Someone hit her in the face," he said, deflecting his son's sword and going for his stomach. Ashur's eyes widened as he spun to avoid the attack. Cass's face was so red and puffed up from crying, he must hadn't noticed any marks or bruises that his father had apparently seen.
"Who do you think would do that?" asked Abdiel keeping his voice calm. At the same time, he unleashed a flurry of blows that seemed to come from all directions at once.
"The Clayhorn girl!" gasped Ashur instinctively as he attempted to dodge and block his father's sword. He kept himself from being struck mostly by luck; his arm was aching from the force of the blows. As he backed away, his father glided forward, calm and, seemingly, fatigueless despite battling like this after a full day's hard work. Sometimes Ashur wondered if the man was even human. He readied himself and parried the first and second attacks then lunged forward, striking at Abdiel's midsection. The big man side stepped the attack and brought down his sword to strike but Ashur just barely managed to fling himself out of harm's way. It was a desperate move that threw him completely off balance.
Abdiel was quick to take advantage. He cleared the short distance between them and brought his sword down like a cleaver. Ashur just managed to block it, the force nearly knocking the practice sword out of his hand. His father then withdrew allowing him to climb awkwardly to his feet. No sooner was he standing than his father was on him again.
Ashur's face was set with concentration, sword maneuvers he had been taught flowed from his mind to his body. Sweat was streaming down his arms and torso but his father was relentless. After nearly twisting his son's sword out of his hand Abdiel stepped back again looking thoughtful, "Anasta Clayhorn, I just heard about her. Yes, apparently she had a rather nasty run in with a gang of hoodlums. Broken nose and two broken ribs..." he shook his head. They began circling each other. Ashur was tired and sore and he didn't like the direction his father's thoughts were going.
"...But I don't think she was beat by a gang of kids," said Abdiel. "In fact I think she was beaten by one little girl half her size, who got away with nothing but a bruise on her face."
Ashur froze, stunned, and in that moment Abdiel struck. In, what seemed like, one smooth motion he had his son disarmed and knocked to the ground with a practice sword on his throat.
"You're dead," he said softly and turned away.
Ashur just lied on the ground letting his exhausted mind and body recover. His arm could still feel the shivering pain of blocking each blow and having all his own attacks blocked. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them his father was standing over him.
"She asked you to train her," he said in the same calm voice.
Ashur closed his eyes again, "Can't we talk about this later?"
"No! We can't talk about this later!" snarled his father suddenly. He felt hands grab the front of his shirt and lift him to his feet.
"I told you not to train her! I told you! I gave you and order, boy!" his voice was a hoarse whisper, but it was rapidly turning into a shout. Ashur tried to pull away from his father's iron grip, finally the big man let him go,
"She was scared," Ashur said.
"What about the teacher? What about you? You can't protect your own sister? Why didn't she come to me? Why didn't you come to me?"
"Half the families in this town are on the run from the law," said Ashur. "Nobody could have protected her all the time. I thought--"
"--No!" cut in his father angrily, "you did not think! You didn't think about what violence costs someone like her! You didn't think that I knew what I was doing! You didn't think that maybe I had a good reason for not training her! You didn't think!"
Ashur nodded wordlessly. He hadn't seen his father this upset in a while. Abdiel walked right up to him and glared into his eyes. He didn't turn away.
"Son, you have a duty to this family! When I tell you to do something I will be obeyed! Do you understand?"
"Yes sir."
"You have no idea who she is! You have no idea what she can do! There are things about her that you will never understand!" he paused, purposefully, anger boiling within him, "Don't you ever, ever! Directly disobey an order I give you concerning your sister again. Is that clear?"
"Yes sir."
His father stared into his eyes for a moment seething, "I trusted you," he hissed. Then he spun around and stalked back into the house tossing his practice sword into the dirt.
Ashur watched him go, hurt and confusion consumed him. He had never seen his father so mad. I trusted you. Guilt stung him deep inside. He had deceived his father and deliberately disobeyed him. Then anger began to well up inside him. He was only teaching her how to defend herself! How could that be wrong? His father had trained and taught him to defend himself. There wasn't always going to be someone bigger to run to when she was in danger, father understood that!
What good reason was he talking about? What was it she was able to do? He knew better than to ask. It was another secret, another thing his father just wouldn't share with him. Ashur picked up his practice sword then walked over and picked up his father's as well. After putting them back where they belonged he paused for a second then punched the wall in frustration, then he punched it again and again. His arms ached.
He was getting sick of his father's secrets. He swallowed a lump in his throat and stared into the ever darkening woods for a time, composing himself. The skin over two of his knuckles had broken open, bleeding down his fingers.