An Oath Taken by Diana Cosby Page A

stocky opponent feigned to the left and away from his opponent’s blade, then attacked.
    Sadness slid through her as the men continued their practice. She appreciated their skill and respect for one another, and ached for both in her own life.
    â€œThomas,” Nicholas called.
    She turned. The castellan walked toward her with a smooth, deadly grace. A man accustomed to the fight as well as the win. ’Twas easy to imagine him wielding his sword, the play of his muscles as he moved through a series of quick rapid thrusts, or the gleam of victory in his eyes at his conquest.
    Desire for Nicholas pulsed through her. Shaken, she shoved the emotion aside. How appropriate for the castellan to choose this moment to enter, in the midst of challenge, with the meeting of steel echoing around them.
    Nicholas halted before her. Steel-gray eyes searched hers, darkened, then became guarded. “You are ready then?”
    Never for you. “Aye.”
    He handed her a sword and a gambeson, then gestured toward a vacant corner sprinkled with sparse patches of grass. “We will begin the lessons there.”
    After donning the worn, padded tunic, she followed. As she was used to her lighter crafted claymore, the English broadsword weighed heavy in her hands. ’Twould be a test to adjust to this heavier, bulkier weapon, but when had anything with him been anything but a challenge?
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    After explaining the basic maneuvers to Thomas, Nicholas stepped back and moved into a defensive stance. “Remember what I said.” He lifted his broadsword waist high.
    Determination glittered in his squire’s eyes as he nodded and followed his lead.
    Nicholas walked him through each maneuver, pleased by Thomas’s quick grasp of his instructions and proficiency at handling his weapon.
    â€œThis time,” Nicholas said, “try to block my advance.” He swung.
    Thomas lifted his blade to fend off his blow as instructed.
    He stepped to the side and delivered another hard strike.
    His squire made the proper countermove and deflected his blade once again.
    â€œGood,” Nicholas said, impressed by the lad’s innate ability. “Again.” They worked for the next half hour without pause.
    Sweat slid down his squire’s face as Thomas feigned and lunged toward him, becoming more aggressive.
    Nicholas danced back and easily averted his attack. A quick study indeed. The lad was ready for the next lesson. “On the battlefield never let your opponent unsettle you. Every swing must be wielded with purpose, not passion. When emotions become involved, they can overrule common sense, then ’tis easy to make mistakes. Remember that.”
    Emerald sparks flashed in his eyes. “I am nae a fool.”
    No, far from it. At this point, Nicholas wasn’t exactly sure what the lad was; thief or victim, or mayhap a combination of both.
    Again the secrets the lad withheld taunted him as did the change in their relationship. Through their time spent together over the past sennight, an intimate bond had ignited between them as precious as rare. It’d become more than the teaching, but personal. Yet Thomas refused to trust him enough to confide his worries.
    Nicholas neatly avoided his squire’s charge when he feigned to the right, then swung a quick, sharp blow. Questions festered. “Who hurt you so that you close yourself off to anyone?”
    Surprise darkened to anger in Thomas’s eyes. He blocked Nicholas’s thrust. With a grunt he twisted his blade and served one of his own. “ ’Tis my affair.”
    That damn wall his squire chose to erect around him. The scrape of steel shuddered around them with a ragged hiss. “I would help you if you would give me the chance.”
    Thomas’s eyes flashed. “Keep your bloody sympathy. I do nae need it.”
    Irritation severed Nicholas’s good intent. He caught his squire’s swing, then advanced with a series of