Chapter Nine - Brotherly Love

In the training yard, Lise and Rory faced each other, training swords in hand. They both wore their gray paladin armor, the king looking like just another knight. Rory’s face lit up with excitement as he licked his lips and looked at his sister intently.

Lise was by far the best swordsman the paladin knights had ever seen. From an early age, she had trained, and her natural ability combined with some gymnastics made her unbeatable by anyone with a sharp object.

It wasn’t often Rory made the time to train anymore, but if he was being honest with himself, he missed it. When he was younger, his father had trained him as a full paladin knight. Although he was kept close to Eastmere to keep him safe—because he was the heir, after all—he relished the few small bandit missions he had been allowed to go on.

He had lived in the barracks with the other men before his coronation at age eighteen. The day he took up the throne had been a happy day in the kingdom. He had married Beatrice soon after, and his life had changed dramatically.

But his men loved him and would fight to the death to protect him. Coming out here every once in a while not only kept his skills in decent shape but also reminded the paladin knights that he was one of them and always would be.

Tonight, as was customary, he would sleep in the barracks, drink with them, and share stories. Beatrice understood and would be waiting for him in their bed the next night, ready to welcome her warrior king home.

He smiled, thinking of her, but then Lise lowered her sword into the beginning position and grinned at him. “Show me what you’ve got, Brother.”

Paladins began to gather around them, and after a long day of training and duty, spirits were high. Oliver stood with one leg up on the fence, surrounded by other knights.

“Bet’s on Lise.” He grinned. “Sorry, Your Majesty.”

“That’s a fair bet,” Rory acknowledged with a laugh, and then raised his own blunted sword to cross with his sister.

They circled each other, grinning mischievously, their feet nimble on the loose sand, put here to break falls and absorb any accidental bloodshed.

Rory knew he had to come out strong if he wanted to win this match. Lise was good, but on rare occasions, he had bested her.

He struck first, swinging his sword with all his might. Lise cocked her head and blocked his blow with ease, and the two siblings began a lively exchange of attacks and parries.

Their movements were swift and playful, each trying to outdo the other. Rory was the more aggressive fighter, while Lise relied on her speed and agility.

He went to strike low, and Lise nimbly jumped over his strike. He barely blocked her counterattack in time as he retreated two steps.

She stomped her foot, the sand flying out in a graceful arc, and gave him a wry grin. “You’re out of practice, Brother. You need to come out here more than once a month. All those fancy parties with merchants and diplomats are putting too much weight on your frame.”

He threw his head back and laughed. Only his sister would dare insult him like that. He knew it was a trick to throw him off his stride. He launched forward, barely missing her shoulder, but she batted his sword away at the last second.

The gathered group of knights clapped enthusiastically, calling out encouragement for one or the other. A few coins were thrown down in good spirits, and Rory grinned as his knights cheered on their King. He knew he was the underdog in this situation, and he enjoyed the challenge. It just made winning all the sweeter.

Their swords clashed together again and again, and sweat trickled down his back under his armor. His underclothes stuck to his skin, and he was breathing heavily. Maybe it was true; he was a little out of shape. Already now, his arm grew fatigued, and each strong strike from Lise numbed his arm.

As the bout went on, Lise grew more and more competitive. She couldn't get the upper hand on him, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he tired completely out.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he grew tired. Lise saw an opening, fainted to the left, and then swung her sword to the right, catching Rory off guard. Her sword connected with his arm guard, and Rory stumbled backward, his sword falling to the sand.

The crowd groaned and then broke into applause. Rory grinned and made a theatrical bow to his sister. The knights roared with laughter to see their King humbled and bowing.

Lise picked up his sword, giving the crowd and her brother a little curtsy.

She put both their training swords on the rack as the crowd dispersed in good nature, and Rory wiped the sweat off his brow.

“Thanks, Lise. I needed that workout. My arm is going to be sore tomorrow,” Rory said, rubbing his shoulder. Then he looked over at the fence, where a few knights still lingered, among them his knight commander, Dean Torn.

“Fine form, Your Majesty,” Dean said, leaning on the fence, one leg resting on the lower rung.

Meanwhile, Rory noticed out of the corner of his eye that Oliver leaned over and whispered something in Lise’s ear. She blushed, and he leaned over and kissed her cheek.

“Don’t feel bad, Your Majesty. Lise beat me, and I helped train her.” Morgan laughed, pushing her bed hair back. “Sort of stings though, to be beaten by my former student.”

“Well, I was going to head into the barracks for a glass of ale. Would you all care to join me?” he said, good-naturedly, anxious to take off his hot armor and retreat to the coolness of the common room.

Just then, Susana came bursting out of the knight commander's cottage, her red hair, so much like her parents', flying behind her. She was wearing a paint-splattered canvas apron, and a smudge of blue paint was on her cheek.

“Your Majesty! I have something truly amazing to show you,” she said, her green eyes dancing with excitement.

“One of your paintings?” Rory asked eagerly. He had one of Susana’s paintings in his bedroom. It was a picture of a group of horses running, and he loved to watch them in full stride, only stopping occasionally to eat grass or sleep.

“Yes, but it’s a little more than that! It’s truly wondrous. I don’t know why I never discovered it before, but I haven’t painted in a while, and it just flowed out. Besides, I only had a small scrap of canvas to work with; maybe that made the difference. Please, let me show you!” she said, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling.

“Of course. That tankard of ale can wait. Let me take off this armor, though,” Rory said, quickly undoing the buckles that held the heavy armor in place.

It took him a minute, but Lise bent down to help him. He gently pulled it all in the corner, where his armor was already waiting to take it away, polish and clean it, and hang it up for the next time.

Then, feeling lighter, they headed off to the Knight Commander's cottage.

It had been a while since he had been inside. When he was little, Morgan used to sometimes invite the children inside for treats after the end of a hard training session.

It looked smaller than he remembered, but perhaps that was just because he was an adult now. The place was cozy, with a small kitchen area at one end, hung with various spices and herbs. A small workbench was next to the woodstove, with a few bottles of various potions and tinctures Morgan worked on in her spare time.

“You know, Dean, you could have any of the houses in the officer’s quarters,” Rory said, thinking of the streets full of proper houses just outside the gates that housed married paladins.

“This place suits us just fine. We don’t need anything bigger. Besides, it’s close to the training grounds.” Dean shrugged.

Susana led them to the back, where they all crowded into her small bedroom.

Rory saw an easel set up, with a palette of paint resting on the wardrobe. A tiny painting was set on it. He glanced at it closely. “Why, it’s a small portrait of me!” he said.

“I would have painted something bigger,” she explained, “but I ran out of canvas. Father, go just outside the cottage so I can demonstrate.”

Dean shrugged and left the room. They all heard the front door open and then close again.

“Now watch!” Susana said as she stared intently at the picture of her father. They watched her hands fill with a bright white light, and the intensity of the light grew until they were blinded and had to look away.

Then, she took her hands and held them over the painting. It didn’t surprise them when the painting came to life, and they could see Dean just outside, the front door behind him.

“It’s so lifelike, Susana. It’s like I could reach out and touch him,” Lise said, a look of wonder covering her face.

Rory was startled when Susana did reach out and touch her father.

“Whoa! What was that? I felt a poke right here in my stomach,” Dean said, looking down and then around him wildly. “Susana, is that you?”

“What in the Hades?” Rory stepped forward, peering down at the picture.

“Your Majesty! I can hear you, just like you are standing right in front of me. What sort of magic is this, Susana?”

“Father!” She said, stroking the painting lightly with a paintbrush. He laughed. “Stop, that tickles.”

“This is amazing magic. My father will be most anxious to see this in action,” Rory said, his gaze never leaving the painting. It was so lifelike; it was like Dean was standing right in front of them, but just captured on paper.

“Let me try walking away,” Dean said, and they watched him walk towards the gate, open it, and continue walking towards the barracks. The background changed as he walked, and they could hear their father greet knights. Not only could they hear him, but as the knights passed them, the picture captured them briefly before they moved out of frame.

“Father, I’m going to break the connection now. Come back,” Susana said, and she waved her hand over the painting, and it returned to normal—or as normal as her paintings ever looked.

They could still see the figure of Dean, but now it was clearly a painting. You could see the paint strokes, and there was no sound. He moved as if he was walking, but there weren’t many background details, only the sky and a keep in the background.

Finally, they heard Dean open the door and come back in. He stood in the doorway. The entire group was staring at him with open mouths.

Dean glanced at the painting and then at his wife. “Well, the magic was strong in you. I guess this is what happens when two paladins have a child.”

“It’s true,” Lise said. “Every paladin I know who has two paladin parents is exceptionally strong in magic and seems to have specialized powers.”

Dean nodded, thinking, then he looked over at Rory. “This is amazing. We can use this to instantly communicate across long distances.”

“There may be so much more I can do. I feel like this is just the tip of the iceberg,” Susana said, looking at the series of four paintings she had done.

“You leave in a week, Susana. I want you painting anything and everything you can think of until then. I don't want you to stop for materials. I’ll have them sent here, or perhaps up to the keep, if you would prefer to work there.”

“No, here is fine,” she said, her eyes lighting up at the prospect of new art supplies.

“Make a list of what you need,” Rory said, looking at the other small portraits, his mind turning to all the ways they could use this to their advantage.