staring at the floor.”
“That is bad,” Jhonate said and Justan felt her worry turn to fear.
“Well I had never seen him like that, so I didn’t know how bad it was,” Hilt said, looking uncomfortable. “Anyway, a feast was laid out and just as we started to eat, he finally stood and called me over. He wanted to spar with me. Beth looked worried, but I thought this was a good thing. After all, sparring is how your father and I forged our friendship. This was a way he could work out his anger and finally talk to me about it. So we went to your father’s private training area. You know, the one out back, in the garden?”
Jhonate nodded.
“I went for the sparring swords, but he wanted to use the real thing. Which wasn’t that big of a deal, really. We had done that before. But that’s when I knew things might get dangerous. He came at me in full armor.”
“He used the complete set?” Jhonate asked.
“Head-to-toe Jharro wood,” Hilt said.
“Jharro armor?” Justan said in surprise. “I didn’t know that existed.”
“It is rare,” Jhonate replied. “It requires a great deal of wood to make a suit of armor, but father has more than anyone else in Roo-Tan history. He has gifts from the three oldest trees in the grove.”
“But he rarely uses it,” Hilt said. “The only other times I’ve seen him wearing the complete set of armor is during speeches. So I asked him why he was wearing his armor to spar. He said that I was too free with the respect he’d given me and that I needed a reminder of just how powerful the people I represented were.”
“That does not sound like something father would say,” Jhonate said, frowning.
“People don’t always act like themselves when they’re angry,” Hilt replied with a shrug. “At any rate, we started sparring. Me with my two swords and Xedrion with two Jharro blades. Xedrion was too aggressive from the start. He tried to overpower me and I got in two quick hits, but he didn’t stop.”
“Not even to reset?” Jhonate asks. “He usually resets and starts over after each hit.”
“I don’t even know if he noticed them, he was so mad,” Hilt said. “He kept pounding at me over and over. Finally I stopped blocking and just tied him up, hilts against hilts. I pulled him close and asked him to calm down.
“That’s when it happened. His armor changed on me. A blade formed from the plate covering his chest and shot up past my guard. It hit me right here.” He unbuttoned the front of his shirt exposing the full length of the scar.
Jhonate put a hand to her mouth. “No.”
Justan grimaced. The thick pink tissue started about just below Hilt’s right pectoral muscle and traveled upwards across his chest, cutting a straight line up his neck and ending at his ear. “That looks . . . deep.”
“It was,” Hilt said, chuckling wryly as he buttoned it back up. “Needless to say, he won that match.”
“He nearly killed you,” Jhonate said and Justan felt guilt emanating from her now.
“Nearly is the operative word here,” Hilt said with a reassuring smile. “Yes, your father was angry, but if he’d really wanted to kill me, his blade would have shot straight out and through my heart instead of up at an angle.”
“What happened next?” Justan asked
“It was like he woke up from his rage. Xedrion felt terrible. He cried out for help and rushed to my side, holding my wound shut and begging my forgiveness. He bandaged me up as good as he could and brought in one of their sorcerers to bless me with strength until the elves could get there.”
“The elves healed you?” Justan asked.
“Yes. Yntri handled it himself,” Hilt said. “Remember, they don’t believe in using elemental magic down there so they don’t have wizards. Even with their Jharro sap poultices, I was down for a week.”
“I . . . It is my fault.” Jhonate’s voice quavered and she pulled free from Justan’s arms to fall to her knees in front of Hilt. “I
“That is bad,” Jhonate said and Justan felt her worry turn to fear.
“Well I had never seen him like that, so I didn’t know how bad it was,” Hilt said, looking uncomfortable. “Anyway, a feast was laid out and just as we started to eat, he finally stood and called me over. He wanted to spar with me. Beth looked worried, but I thought this was a good thing. After all, sparring is how your father and I forged our friendship. This was a way he could work out his anger and finally talk to me about it. So we went to your father’s private training area. You know, the one out back, in the garden?”
Jhonate nodded.
“I went for the sparring swords, but he wanted to use the real thing. Which wasn’t that big of a deal, really. We had done that before. But that’s when I knew things might get dangerous. He came at me in full armor.”
“He used the complete set?” Jhonate asked.
“Head-to-toe Jharro wood,” Hilt said.
“Jharro armor?” Justan said in surprise. “I didn’t know that existed.”
“It is rare,” Jhonate replied. “It requires a great deal of wood to make a suit of armor, but father has more than anyone else in Roo-Tan history. He has gifts from the three oldest trees in the grove.”
“But he rarely uses it,” Hilt said. “The only other times I’ve seen him wearing the complete set of armor is during speeches. So I asked him why he was wearing his armor to spar. He said that I was too free with the respect he’d given me and that I needed a reminder of just how powerful the people I represented were.”
“That does not sound like something father would say,” Jhonate said, frowning.
“People don’t always act like themselves when they’re angry,” Hilt replied with a shrug. “At any rate, we started sparring. Me with my two swords and Xedrion with two Jharro blades. Xedrion was too aggressive from the start. He tried to overpower me and I got in two quick hits, but he didn’t stop.”
“Not even to reset?” Jhonate asks. “He usually resets and starts over after each hit.”
“I don’t even know if he noticed them, he was so mad,” Hilt said. “He kept pounding at me over and over. Finally I stopped blocking and just tied him up, hilts against hilts. I pulled him close and asked him to calm down.
“That’s when it happened. His armor changed on me. A blade formed from the plate covering his chest and shot up past my guard. It hit me right here.” He unbuttoned the front of his shirt exposing the full length of the scar.
Jhonate put a hand to her mouth. “No.”
Justan grimaced. The thick pink tissue started about just below Hilt’s right pectoral muscle and traveled upwards across his chest, cutting a straight line up his neck and ending at his ear. “That looks . . . deep.”
“It was,” Hilt said, chuckling wryly as he buttoned it back up. “Needless to say, he won that match.”
“He nearly killed you,” Jhonate said and Justan felt guilt emanating from her now.
“Nearly is the operative word here,” Hilt said with a reassuring smile. “Yes, your father was angry, but if he’d really wanted to kill me, his blade would have shot straight out and through my heart instead of up at an angle.”
“What happened next?” Justan asked
“It was like he woke up from his rage. Xedrion felt terrible. He cried out for help and rushed to my side, holding my wound shut and begging my forgiveness. He bandaged me up as good as he could and brought in one of their sorcerers to bless me with strength until the elves could get there.”
“The elves healed you?” Justan asked.
“Yes. Yntri handled it himself,” Hilt said. “Remember, they don’t believe in using elemental magic down there so they don’t have wizards. Even with their Jharro sap poultices, I was down for a week.”
“I . . . It is my fault.” Jhonate’s voice quavered and she pulled free from Justan’s arms to fall to her knees in front of Hilt. “I
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