The Beast of the North
“Not one bit,’ Taram Blacktower said an hour later, his eyebrow raised. ‘Why am I training you?’ He was wearing a dark open shirt, his lean muscles glistening with slight sweat. ‘You know nothing of fighting, and Father told me to make you proficient at least. To make you look like one, a fighter. He has so many strange plans, and I never know anything about them.’ ‘It’s your father’s plan so ask him,’ Sand said and held his side, experimentally twisting his torso as he poked at the sore ribs. I... cursed, as my friend did not really know the full plan, the part Crec was to play in it. He didn’t even know I was related to Gal. It bothered me, but the memory of Shaduril’s smile and kiss overwhelmed the remorse. Sand nodded at me. No bones were broken, and Taram wiped his hair from his eyes as he prepared to pummel Sand again with the staff. We were standing in the middle of a circular chamber, and it was empty, save for racks of wooden weapons on the side. The Lifegiver was shedding its light from holes on the top, illuminating the room though it left parts in deceitful shadows.MoreLess
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