.7th of summer.
.9th bell.
.9th bell.
Face still flaming from the over-exuberant search she’d been subjected to, Nellie walked nervously into the old structure; despite having legitimate business at the Proving Grounds, being anywhere so obviously associated with any of Sunberth’s gangs made her skin crawl. Neutral zones were safe zones – being seen any place that “belonged” to any specific gang could be a dangerous thing. But, for weapons training in Sunberth, the Proving Grounds were it. They weren’t cheap, but they offered group and individual lessons and the training provided was thorough, as far as it went; for safety, it was a worthy investment.
“Think I oughta get a discount, or a meal, or somethin’, after that,” she muttered – very quietly; she understood the guards searched all non-Sun’s Birth members before allowing them in, but Nellie was positive that her guard had taken too much time and too much pleasure in making sure there was no contraband on her person. Her skin crawled, remembering the man’s glinting eyes as his hands roamed slowly, patting here, pinching there, outright groping more than once. His partner had snickered and very obviously looked the other way, leaving Nellie no choice but to silently endure the humiliation if she wanted to learn how to defend herself against that type of treatment, or worse.
Upon completion of the degrading ordeal, Nellie had inquired, through gritted teeth, where she was to go for her private training session. The man had snidely offered her a discount on his own private lessons, but had given her no real information. Fortunately, after passing through the main breezeway, Nellie saw a small grouping of practice dummies and the woman who had agreed to begin her training today, Captain Eleuia, of the Sun’s Birth.
This must be the place, she thought, with a twist of her lips that was more grimace than smile. Gripping the practice dagger she’d been obliged to purchase, Nellie squared her shoulders as she neared the training area. She’d been under the impression that “private lessons” would be conducted in private; that was apparently not the case, as the practice dummies were set out in the open courtyard, off to the side but in plain view of anyone desiring to watch, gawk, or mock. Judging by the number of dragoons standing idly by, there would be plenty of fun had at her expense. Nodding to the woman, Nellie assumed what she hoped passed for a ready stance and greeted her instructor.
“Captain Eleuia. Thanks for takin’ time with me today.” When in doubt, be polite, Nellie couldn’t remember who had told her that, but it was good advice. Hopefully the other woman would appreciate the gesture; Nellie had the feeling it would be very unpleasant to irritate her teacher so early in the lessons.
“Nellie.” Eleuia’s voice wasn’t harsh, exactly, but the tone suggested she was a woman who didn’t appreciate small talk. “You can put that down over there, for now. We won’t be using it until we’ve covered a few basics.” With a nod of her head, the Captain indicated Nellie should put her blade on a small table just outside the circle of dummies.
As Nellie moved to do that, she heard Eleuia continue, “A knife, or dagger, is only as good as your element of surprise. Fine for a last minute self-defense weapon, but the training is more technique than bladework. Today we’ll cover some basic principles of self-defense, and if you manage to master those reasonably well, I’ll let you try it on the dummies, with your practice dagger.”
Nellie nodded, though her response seemed unnecessary. Eleuia had already moved directly in front of her, and was speaking again.
“Now, since you didn’t pay me to see you injured in training, we’re going to do a few basic warm ups to make sure your muscles - “
“What muscles? She’s a petchin’ twig!”
Nellie’s face flamed at the derisive comment, sure that there would be more where that came from, but Eleuia whirled, every inch the captain, and addressed the speaker in clipped words that left no room for argument.
“Run. You run until I’m done with this one, and then you and I are going to train.” Eleuia was not loud, but the displeasure in her voice may as well have been shouted at full volume, for the effect it had on the man. The dragoon gulped visibly, and Nellie barely managed to withhold her smile at the sight of his face whitening even as his legs took him on a long tour of the Proving Grounds.
Eleuia watched him for a few ticks before returning her attention to the lesson. “As I was saying, these warm ups will not eliminate soreness. You will be sore when we are done today. But the stretching will warm up your muscles, increasing blood and oxygen flow, and minimizing the potential for injury. Now it is your turn to run. Twice around the perimeter, do not sprint.”
On a silent groan, Nellie turned to follow the captain’s directions. She hated running, and generally reserved it for times of most desperate need. And what did running have to do with learning to use a dagger, anyway? A glance back at Eleuia’s face convinced her not to ask, and Nellie resigned herself to the running, forcing her feet to move forward at a pace just slightly faster than a walk.
At least I don’t have to run for an hour, like that petcher, she thought, as the man who’d been mocking her earlier passed her by, his breathing already labored.
Nellie Hawkins
". . . most of us have gears we never use . . ."
". . . most of us have gears we never use . . ."
