After a few minutes Miriel joined him, her body clothed in a loose woollen robe of grey wool. ‘What work did you have in mind?’ she asked him, seating herself in the chair opposite.
‘You know why I slapped you?’
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‘You wanted to dominate me.’
‘No. I wanted to see you angry. I needed to know how you reacted when your blood was high.’ Idly he stabbed at the fire with an iron poker. ‘Listen to me, girl, I am not a teacher. I have only trained two people – young men I loved. Both died. I am , . . was … a fine fighter, but just because I have a skill does not mean I can pass it on. You understand?’ She remained silent, her large eyes staring at him, expressionless. ‘I was a little in love with Danyal, I think, and I have respect for your father. I came here to warn him, so that he would leave the area, travel to Ventria or Gothir. And yes, I could use the gold. But that’s not why I came, nor is it why I agreed to stay. If you choose not to believe me then I will leave in the morning – and I will not claim the fortune.’
Still she said nothing.
‘I don’t know what else I can say to you.’ He shrugged and sat back.
‘You told me we were going to work,’ she said softly. ‘On my mind. What did you mean?’
He spread his hands and stared into the fire. ‘Did your father ever tell you about the test he set Danyal?’
‘No. But I heard you say I would fail it.’
‘Yes, you would.’ And Angel told her of the pebble in the moonlight, and talked on of the warrior’s heart, the willingness to risk everything, but the confidence to believe the risk was calculated.
‘How do I achieve this?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know,’ he admitted.
‘The two men you trained – did they have it?’
‘Ranuld believed he did, but he tied up in his first fight, his muscles tense, his movements halting. Sorrin had it, I think, but he met a better man. It comes from an ability to close off that part of the imagination that is fuelled by fear. You know, the part that pictures terrible wounds and gangrene, pumping blood and the darkness of death. But at the same time the mind must continue to function, seeing the opponent’s weaknesses, planning ways through his defences. You have seen my scars. I have been cut many
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times – but always I won. And I beat better men, faster men, stronger men. I beat them because I was too obstinate to give up. And their confidence would begin to fail, and the windows of their minds would creep open. Their imagination would seep out, and they would begin to doubt, to fear. And from that moment it did not matter that they were better, or faster or stronger. For I would grow before their eyes and they would shrink before mine.’
‘I will learn,’ she promised.
‘I doubt it can be learned. Your father became Waylander because his first family were butchered by raiders, but I don’t believe the atrocity created Waylander. He was always there, beneath the surface of Dakeyras. The real question is, what lies beneath the surface of Miriel?’
‘We will see,’ she said.
‘Then you wish me to stay?’
‘Yes. I wish you to stay. But answer me one question honestly.’
‘Ask.’
‘What is it you fear?’
‘Why would you think I fear anything?’ he hedged.
‘I know that you did not want to stay, and I sense you are torn between your desire to help me and a need to leave. So what is it?’
‘The question is a fair one. Let us leave it that you are right. There is something I fear, but I am not prepared to talk about it. As you are not prepared to speak of the loss of your Talent.’
She nodded. ‘There is one – or more – among the assassins that you do not wish to meet. Am I close?’
‘We must thicken the grip on your sword,’ he said. ‘Cut some strips of leather – thin, no wider than a finger’s width. You have glue?’