Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) by Paula Flumerfelt Page B

acceptable that they were being bossed around. Which was exactly what she did, boss people around. He wondered if it was a princess thing.
     
    Dragging him down stairs and other halls towards the sweeping side lawn, Avian talked non-stop about something or other. Some sort of party seemed to be topic of choice. There was a childish enthusiasm mixed in with a healthy dose of sincerity in her voice. She dragged him out of the palace and onto an area where the grass was cut shorter than the rest in a long rectangle. The long, thin area was lined with racks holding fencing foils and safety gear. A broad, dark haired man was waiting for them. He looked vaguely like a bear coming out of hibernation.
     
    “You’re late.” His voice was a deep grumble from within his chest, projecting loudly.
     
    Avian blinked innocently up at him, facing the monstrosity of a man before him like he was a kitten. “Blame the new kid. He slowed me up.” She spoke as she went to get her whites and started to pull them on. Once she was dressed, her hair was swept into a pony tail.
     
    “No excuses. Form.”
     
    “Yeah, yeah.” She pulled on her face guard and took up her foil. Moving to face her instructor, she whipped the foil through the air with a whistle. “Let’s do this.” Avian yawned.
     
    “En Garde !“ For a few minutes the pair jabbed and parried, avoiding each other in a comfortable fashion. To Mathieu’s inexperienced eyes, they looked like a lion and a gazelle, dancing and avoiding each other in an almost deadly game.
     
    Soon, the pair started to become more serious. There were touches happening left and right as Avian and her teacher spun and thrust the foils like real swords. The gentle spar was quickly digressing into something like a fistfight with swords. The hilt of the instructor’s foil slammed up into Avian’s stomach. In retaliation, she threw a fist into his sternum, knocking him back.
     
    Watching with good humor, Mathieu sat off to the side. It was entertaining to watch them ‘spar’ and try to kill each other while maintaining the sense of decorum that was known for existing within fencing. Oddly, he wondered if the man was holding back, or if she was really superior to him in ability.
     
    He decided that the man was holding back because whenever the woman’s hits became sloppy, he’d return the hit, showing her how to do it properly. And the hit generally was much more powerful that Avian’s was.
     
    Mathieu found Avian to be an enigma. How did she go from talking about negotiations with Korinth, to childish enthusiasm over a book, and ending on regressing to a near fistfight during a fencing lesson? She was a constant source of surprises, and not just for him it seemed.
     
    “Alright, let’s break.” The instructor dropped her from the hold he had her in and pulled his face guard off.  “You’re doing well today. Managing to stay focused.”
     
    Avian pulled her mask off too, yawning again. “Thanks.” She lay down in the grass and closed her eyes. “Damn, I’m tired.”
     
    “You say that every day. Now, who are you?” He turned to Mathieu and gave him an appraising look.
     
    “Mathieu. Why?” The white haired man said, folding his arms over his chest.
     
    The man sat in a chair next to Mathieu. “Just wondering who was hired to protect her royal pain-in-the-ass.”
     
    “Well, that’d be me. I don’t fight like you guys do, but the king felt that I’d be able to defend her in a do or die situation…” He picked at the hem of his shirt.
     
    Nodding, the man picked up his water bottle and took a long swallow. “Ultimately, that’s what matters.”
     
    “What’s your name?”
     
    “Demetri Uliff.”
     
    The name meant nothing to him, but the way it was said indicated that he was supposed to be impressed. “That’s er…cool?”
     
    “You have no idea who I am, do you?” Demetri queried.
     
    “Not the slightest.”
     
    Avian perked up. “He was a top