The Secret Prince by Violet Haberdasher Page A

kit, he noticed Valmont struggling with his own fastenings.
    “Do you want help?” Henry asked.
    Valmont glared. “Did I ask?”
    Valmont scowled, but turned so Henry could fasten the back of his kit.
    “You’re welcome,” Henry said coldly.
    The fencing master cleared his throat for attention.
    “Last term you were divided into intermediates and beginners,” he said. “But I can see that such rankings no longer hold. From now on you are all intermediates. I’llbe evaluating individual performances and will reassign the most promising students to an advanced group in a few weeks’ time. For today, partner up.”
    Henry gladly partnered with Edmund, and they were set with practicing the length of their lunges, parrying only when they thought the attacks would hit.
    “It’s a bit like old times,” said Edmund, who hadn’t fenced against Henry since Henry’s move to the intermediates partway through last term. Forgetting to signal his attack, Edmund stepped into a long lunge, which Henry parried easily.
    “Old times, right,” Henry said, thinking it was anything but. “Go again, but watch your back arm and mind your seat.”
    When the fencing master called an end to the exercise, Henry frowned. Surely there was more time left in the lesson?
    “Let’s discuss the strategy behind that exercise,” said the fencing master. “Why is it to your advantage to vary the length of your lunge?”
    “It’s less work,” called Theobold.
    “That’s not an advantage. That’s laziness,” said the fencing master.
    Henry caught Adam’s eye, and they grinned. It wasimmensely gratifying to see the fencing master lay into Theobold for his poor form and even poorer strategy.
    “An advantage?” the fencing master continued. “Marchbanks?”
    Derrick ran a hand through his dark hair thoughtfully. “Well … your opponent is never quite certain from how far away he might be attacked,” he said.
    “Excellent, Marchbanks,” said the fencing master. “You retain the element of a surprise attack. You can catch your opponent off guard. You undermine his confidence in his defenses. Is he out of range? Or have you merely orchestrated it so that he thinks this is so?”
    Theobold scowled.
    “St. Fitzroy, mask on,” called the fencing master. James nervously tugged on his mask and took his place on the demonstration piste across from the fencing master.
    The fencing master drove James backward across the piste with a double advance and a lunge that stopped half an arm’s length short of a hit.
    “You see? He panicked when I made a short lunge. Watch again.” The fencing master resumed his on guard position. He advanced quickly, and then made a lunge identical to his first. “Now St. Fitzroy is convinced thathe knows my attack distance. At that range he does not expect to be hit.”
    Again the fencing master faced James across the piste. This time he followed his double advance with a longer lunge, his foil striking cleanly against James’s chest before James could react.
    “Short lunge,” said the fencing master, demonstrating. “And long lunge. It is up to you to decide whether you want your opponent to know and fear your attack distance, or whether you want to mislead and surprise him. Class dismissed.”
    Frankie apparently decided that she was speaking with Henry again that night, as he was leaving supper with Derrick and Edmund and discussing the next morning’s cricket match.
    “Cover your eyes, lads. The deadly sunshade approaches,” Derrick noted dryly.
    “Hello, Miss Winter,” Henry said, flashing his most winning smile, noting with satisfaction that Frankie looked upset at his black eye.
    “Professor Stratford wants you to come for tea tomorrow,” Frankie muttered.
    “Oh, er, right,” Henry said, guiltily rememberingthat it had been nearly a week since he’d last seen his former tutor. “Of course. Tell him I’ll be there.”
    “He said to come by at noon,” Frankie said.
    “All right,”