“In?”
“Humility. You see, Sam. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you didn’t know your place.”
“You’d think wrong.”
He took a step toward me. I took an answering step back. “Is that right?”
“Yes.”
He raised his sword. Settled into a defensive position. “Sword up, Sam. It’s time to begin.”
I brought the sword up, holding the handle with two hands. It was awkward. The blade shook slightly.
“Now,” he said. “Most think it’s about brute attacks. Quick and heavy. Bashing down your opponent. Skin split and blood spilled.”
He swung his sword out in a flat horizontal arc. I managed to jump back. Barely.
I said, “Justin.”
He said, “But unless your opponent is weak,
sheer brute force will only result in exhaustion. And that could lead to mistakes. Mistakes not normally made.”
He brought the sword up and over his head, bringing it down toward me. I raised my own sword defensively over my head. The blades clashed. The vibrations from the impact rolled down my arm into my shoulder. The metal scraped as he pulled his sword back and away.
“It’s better to dance,” Justin said, taking a step back. “Waiting for your opponent to attack and attack and attack. Eventually, he’ll tire until he can barely stand and that’s when you move in for the kill.”
There was green, flicking off out of the corner of my eyes. It felt heady and strong, and I knew just how easy it would be to hold on to it, sink down under it and just push.
Instead, I said, “I’m not doing this. Whatever this is.”
I dropped the sword. It fell to the ground.
Justin’s eyes narrowed. “Pick it up.”
“No.”
He brought the flat end of the sword up and before I could move, slapped me across the thigh with it. There was a flare of pain as the muscle seized, but I kept my face blank.
“Pick it up,” he snarled.
So much green. It was everywhere.
“What do you want?” I asked him. “I’ve never done anything to you. In fact, I’ve done everything I could to stay out of your way.”
“And yet I find you there again and again,” he said. “My father. The King’s Court. The castle, the city, the country. Everyone knows of Sam of Wilds. The little boy from the slums who by accident found himself a spot in royalty though he’d done nothing to deserve it.”
“And you have?” I asked him, cocking my head. This felt hard. Dangerous. I didn’t care. “What exactly did you do? You were born and it was given to you. That’s all. That’s all you’ve ever done, and you’re in line to be King. And a king I don’t know if I could serve.”
He took a step back. “You don’t have a choice.”
I smiled at him. “There’s always a choice. I am not bound to you. Not yet. I haven’t taken my oaths. I haven’t been through the Trials. You don’t own me, Justin. I could walk away from you and never come back.”
A king without a wizard to advise him was frowned upon. A prince whose wizard apprentice had walked away was unheard of. There weren’t many of us. He needed me more than I needed him.
There was a false bravado that pushed itself through the real fear I saw on his face. “You wouldn’t.”
“Watch me.”