I slept on the far side of the fire from him that night, wrapped in my single blanket. It was summer, and the night was pleasant enough with no further shelter. Come morning I rose with the dawn, and found Raneld already up. He was doing a series of stretches. I watched for a moment, unable to keep from admiring his graceful movements. He was far too well-muscled to be called “slender,” but he wasn’t bulky either. He had the body, and the smooth control of a dancer.
Soon he drew his sword and began a series of exercises. I’d done quite a bit of sword training, of course, but I’d never felt the need for daily practice. I supposed that was one reason why he’d bested me. But then assassins aren’t supposed to fight fair duels. If he hadn’t heard me coming, I’d have simply stabbed him in the b
