Luther's Pride Part 31

Luther and Rhosyn were the last to arrive at the sparring ring. As helpful as Rhosyn was in Luther donning his leathers, she was easily distracted. Her smile faded as they entered the gardens. Seeing everyone gathered in the early morning mist at the training circle was a somber reminder of the night before. The air still smelled of ash, and the black ribbons worn by each member of the union in support of Luther, Rohysn, and Eira’s passed family members silenced the revelry. 

The fifty-foot stone dais showed no sign of the decorations from his and Helena’s wedding. The evening flowers had retreated into their buds for the daylight despite the sun remaining half-hidden by the horizon. Dew hung on every leaf, a gift from the ankle-deep mist crawling over every blade of grass. The surrounding hedge offered them privacy from the manor’s servants, whom they’d astonished by rising from bed this early on their first day of mourning. 

Someone relieved Will of his post before the maids came to stoke the fireplaces in the apartments. They found Helena, Jo, and Eira leaving for the sparring ring. Wulfric had told them at the base of the stairs to alert him when they finished, and he’d see breakfast prepared while they bathed after their training—a suggestion, as much as an offer.

Helena wore her fighting armor, plated to protect the vital parts of her body without interfering with her joints, giving her the movement she needed to fight with her limbs and fists. The sheen of steel on her stomach, breast, biceps, forearms, thighs, and calves contrasted with the red padding beneath it. Her boots, gauntlets, and helmet were reinforced with spikes, giving her a fearsome appearance, and the heavy iron mace at her side suggested a weapon she might demolish houses with, given its size. 

Jo wore less than Luther expected, but he didn’t complain about the amount of bare flesh she presented. Her muscular form was tight and lithe, with dark brown trousers from her waist to the middle of her thighs. The earthy hue matched the top she wore, which was a simple binding for her breasts, a strip of cloth that tied in the back. She wore nothing else, not even on her hands or feet. 

Eira dressed in trousers as well, though they were longer and looser. The gray material looked silver and matched the robed top that fastened at her navel. She smiled when she saw Luther and Rhosyn arrive. Rhosyn had done her hair the same way, in a long braid, and wore the same outfit in the same style. 

Luther stood out among them as the only one dressed in leather armor. The etchings of runes embossed in the material marked the spellwork that entered the armor, and the others marveled at it to distraction as Luther tested his rapier and checked the rings on his fingers. 

The peaceful silence of morning hung between them. Birdsong drowned the noise of insects, and the stables were far enough away that none of the animals’ noises entered the ring. 

“So, how do we want to begin?” Luther asked, breaking the silence’s spell over them. “You run at me, and I defend?” He drew his rapier. 

“We won’t need weapons to start.” Helena said, lifting her mace from her hip and dropping it outside the ring. It fell on the path and stood where it landed, heavy enough to indent the earth beneath its head. 

Luther glanced at his sword. His instincts proved reluctant to surrender the advantage it gave him over an unarmed Helena. This match wasn’t a fight, though. She was his wife. They were training. He sheathed his blade, untied his sword belt, and passed the belt, sword, and scabbard to Jo.

Jo took the belt and sword from him and hung them on a nearby post. The mage crystal in it wasn’t necessary to illuminate the ring at this time of day, but the post was permanent. 

“I’ll officiate.” Jo said. 

“We’re not going to spar just yet.” Helena said, raising her hand. “We need to talk some of this out first.” 

“Okay.” Luther said, agreeing and waiting for Helena to speak her mind. 

“You know my arcana, and you’ve seen me use it.” Helena said. “What do you know about it?” 

“You mean the theories behind it?” Luther asked. 

“Yes. Do you understand how it works?” Helena asked. “Because if you don’t, and you are capable of using it, you could fatally hurt yourself if you don’t know what you’re doing.” 

“Maybe we should start with a simpler arcana, then.” Rhosyn said. “We need Luther in one piece.” 

Helena laughed.

“That’s a possibility.” Jo said, glancing between them. “But Helena’s is also the most difficult to master. He’ll need the most time with it compared to ours.” 

“That’s assuming I can even replicate your arcana.” Luther said, reminding them that this was still theory. He’d never done this before, and there was a chance he wouldn’t be able to. They were basing this hope on the journals of his late father, myths of a pre-empire king, and Criella’s adamant insistence. 

“Yes.” Jo agreed. “And if you can’t, we’ll have to hope we think of another way of surviving when Branan levels his challenge. 

“We might have enough of us to win in a straight fight.” Helena said. 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Eira said. 

The others looked at her with fear on their faces. 

“Not a prediction!” Eira said, waving her hands in front of her face. “I’d rather just win without much contest of their strength against ours. I’d like to see Branan overwhelmed and slain quickly.” 

Rhosyn slipped her hand into Eira’s and comforted her sister. Eira hugged her sister to her, changing her hand to her other, and slipped her arm around Rhosyn’s waist. They stood watching at the edge of the ring while Helena and Luther faced one another. Jo stood halfway between them, facing the two of them. 

“So, how should we begin?” Luther asked. 

“We’ll start your training the same way I started mine.” Helena said. “Focus.” She sat on the stone, crossing her legs beneath her. Luther glanced at the fog still crawling across the stone but joined her. 

Luther sat mirroring her position, crossing his legs beneath him in the chilly fog. She put her hands on her knees and closed her eyes. Luther did the same. He heard her draw in a long inhale, and he mirrored her, releasing it slowly through his nostrils. 

The cold of the fog slid against his legs, making him shudder slightly. 

“Focus.” Helena said. “Reach into the pool of magic and connect with it.” 

Luther turned his mind away from the fog and toward the connection he shared with his wives. The pool of magic remained deep and calm between them, and the sense of power struck him. 

“Before you draw on it, the composition of the spell I use is layered.” Helena said. “The first step is the reinforcement of the body.” 

Luther understood. Helena’s tall, muscular form was impressively strong, but the muscles and bones beneath them had built that strength slowly and prepared for their burdens. If Helena used magic to suddenly increase her strength without first reinforcing her bones, she might break her body simply by moving it. If she strengthened her muscles but not her tendons, then her joints would tear and immobilize her. 

“So that is all you need to focus on for now. Not strength, but reinforcement. Bones of steel, tendons of many chords, and fibers of resilience.” Helena said. “That is the first part of the spell I use, though I speak it in my mind.” 

“Bones of steel, tendons of many chords, fibers of resilience.” Luther repeated aloud, though he poured no magic into it. 

“Yes.” Helena answered. “To me, it’s a natural process. A thought, but in learning how to use my gift, I learned how to shape it and control it. To pour magic into my body, fuel it, strengthen it, grant me speed, and a few other tricks.” 

Luther raised an eyebrow. “Like what, praytell?” 

“I can use magic to enhance my senses.” Helena said. “Which comes in handy when moving faster than other people can see. My eyes have to be able to see at that speed. My mind has to be able to think at that speed.” 

“Makes sense.” Luther said, realizing how complicated Helena’s gift truly was. It seemed simple from the outside. Helena was strong, and many took her for a brutish young woman who likely didn’t read much or value her education since her gifts lay in other areas. That wasn’t true, though. It was an assumption she allowed others to believe. Her grasp of spellcraft, at least regarding her abilities, was sound.

Helena took a deep breath, and Luther mirrored her again, syncing his breathing to hers. 

“Blank your mind.” Helena said. “Feel the magic.” She added. “Imagine your body becoming more resilient. Invulnerable. As hardy as the stone we sit upon. Don’t focus on strength just yet. Just on that. Hardening.” 

Rhosyn giggled. 

Luther allowed himself a chuckle, joining Rhosyn’s immaturity. 

Helena didn’t seem nearly as amused. “This is serious, Luther.” She said. “If you haven’t mastered this, and I land a punch on you without holding back, I’m likely to punch through you and kill you outright.” 

“Let’s try to avoid that.” Jo said, her tone not as amused as Luther thought it should be. 

“I’ve no intention of killing my husband so early in the marriage.” Helena assured her. “He deserves at least a chance.” 

Luther didn’t open his eyes, but he imagined Helena winking at Jo. Some levity helped, but they were correct that now wasn’t the time. He had to focus. He had to see if he could do this once and for all. If not, they were going to have to figure something else out. 

“I might not get this on the first try.” Luther said. “Please don’t give up hope if I fail to duplicate your arcana the first time.” 

“Don’t worry.” Jo said. “Clear your mind of anxiety and worry. Blank your mind.” 

Luther nodded. Meditation techniques aside, she was right. Worrying about failure wasn’t helpful at this juncture. Hope for success wasn’t useful either. Blank. 

He meditated, emptying his mind. He accepted every thought that arose and put it aside, silencing the voices in his mind in favor of the pool of magic. The river of power flowed between him and the collective pool. Reinforcement. Bones of steel. Tendons of many chords. Fibers of resilience. Reinforce the body. He cycled the words and their meaning, visualizing them and their effects on his flesh. He focused on them and reached into the pool of power, drawing on it to power the spell. 

Magic flowed through the channel between the pool and himself. The pulse of it trumped through his soul, drowning him, but the surge had nowhere to go. The spell he crafted to utilize it was there, in his mind, but not responding to the source meant to power it. 

Luther panicked and emptied the magic into the pool again before the power threatened to damage him. The spell failed, and he released a sigh with his exhale, shaking with failure. He opened his eyes to see everyone staring at him. Helena sat across from him, almost knee to knee. Jo stood behind her. 

Eira and Rhosyn stood behind her, peering with more curiosity than hope. 

“Anything?” Helena asked. 

“I did what you said.” Luther said. “But I couldn't make the spell work.”

Helena and Jo frowned.

“You can do it, my Lord.” Rhosyn said encouragingly. “Don't let one failure discourage you.”

“How did you visualize the spell?” Helena asked. “In your mind, what did it look like?” 

“Ah… kind of like a chicken leg?” Luther admitted. 

The others stared at him. Eira and Rhosyn giggled.

“A chicken leg?” Helena asked. Her disbelief was as loud as though she were shouting, even though her volume didn’t rise above a whisper.

“It has bone, muscle, and tendons. So, when I pictured bone, muscle, and tendons, it was the first thing I pictured.” Luther said, shrugging.

Helena sighed and placed her face in her palm.

“You never said how to visualize it!” Luther protested. 

“I didn’t think I had to! It’s your body you’re trying to strengthen, right? So picture your body!” Helena argued. 

Eira giggled. “I think our husband is hungry.” She said, amused. “Should I fetch the servants to bring breakfast out here?”

“No.” Luther said, waving the suggestion away. “Let me try again. How do you visualize the spell?” 

“As myself.” Helena said as though it should have been obvious. “How familiar are you with vivisection?” 

“I've no firsthand experience with the study outside of combat.” Luther said. “But, I have the advantage of having read several manuals regarding the anatomy of humans, fey, and horses.”

“From your library?” Helena asked. 

Luther almost corrected her to call it his father's library, but stopped himself before speaking. “Yes.”

“Okay.” Helena said. “So you know the system of bones that make up your body, right? Can you name all of them?” 

“There's… there's hundreds.” Luther protested.

Helena sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I need you to be able to visualize your entire skeleton in detail.” 

“Couldn't I start small?” Luther asked. “My arm, for instance. A magically enhanced punch would be–”

“Useless if your fist shattered on impact.” Helena said. “How many bones are in your hand?” 

“Uh…” Luther hesitated. “More than one, less than a thousand.” 

Helena kicked his shin with her heel, hard. Luther fell over, clutching his leg and rolling onto his back.

“What did you do that for?” Rhosyn protested.

“He's not taking this seriously.” Helena pushed up from the ground and put her fingers to her lips. She blew, and a loud whistle pierced the morning silence like a spear flying from the gardens to the house.

Nothing happened.

“How do you summon the servants?” Helena barked at Luther, who was still recovering from the blow.

“I don't know. Wulfric usually just appears to annoy me.” He groaned and rolled away as Helena kicked at him a second time. “I'm being serious!” He jumped from the ground and landed on his feet with impressive alacrity. “I haven't been a lord that long.”

Helena sighed. “Would one of you be kind enough to run to the house and tell a servant to fetch those anatomy manuals?” Helena asked. 

Eira volunteered, and she and Rhosyn ran to the house together. 

“Take this seriously.” Helena said, stabbing her finger against Luther's chest. “If you fuck this up, you die, and we die with you.”

“Pressuring him to perform won't help him.” Jo said, stepping between them.

“Neither will cracking jokes and making light of my trying to help him.” Helena argued.

Luther bit back the instinct to defend himself. Lightening the burdens he had to carry was an old, ingrained defense mechanism. He laughed in the face of danger, usually because it pissed the dangerous people off enough to where they made mistakes.

Helena was right, though. The stakes were life and death. His life, sure, but also Helena, Jo, Eira, and Rhosyn's. They would be the most recent additions to the lands of the dead behind his father and the Verdell union.

Eira and Rhosyn’s parents gave their lives for their daughters. The least Luther could do was treat the endeavor with the respect they deserved for their sacrifice. 

“You're right.” Luther said, silencing the argument between Jo and Helena. “I allowed the pleasure from this morning to overwhelm my good sense. I promise to treat this with the gravity and respect it deserves from here.” 

Helena stopped, looking at him with an expression that softened the longer she held his gaze.

She offered him her hand. He shook it. She pulled him into a kiss, which surprised him, but he didn't argue.

“Sorry about kicking your shin.” Helena said. 

“On the contrary. I needed it. Though outside of the ring, can our union be less violent?” Luther asked, smiling slightly. 

Helena grinned. “Outside the ring, I'll be as soft and demure as you wish, my lord.” Helena curtseyed, then straightened so she stood close, towering over Luther as she pointed toward the ground. “But in this training ring, you will suffer the consequences of goofing off during training.” 

Luther nodded. “I understand.” 

Jo clapped her hands together. “Try meditating again.” She suggested. 

Luther and Helena retook their places and began meditating while they waited for Eira and Rhosyn to return.