Elspeth was already there, going full out against Jeri under Alberich’s critical eye. Talia held her breath in surprise; Elspeth was, (to her judgment, at least) Jeri’s equal. The young weapons instructor was not holding anything back, and more than once only saved herself from a “kill” by frantically wrenching her body out of the way of the wooden blade. Both of them were sodden with sweat when Alberich finally called a halt.

“You do well, children; both of you,” Alberich nodded as he spoke. Both Elspeth and Jeri began walking slowly in little circles to keep their muscles from stiffening, while drying their faces with old towels. “Jeri, it is more work you need on your defense; working with the students has made you sloppy. Elspeth, if it was that you were not far busier than any student should be, I would make you Jeri’s assistant.”

Elspeth raised her head, and Talia could see she was flushed with the praise, her eyes glowing.

“However, you are very far from perfect. Your left side is too weak and you are vulnerable there. From now on you are to work left-handed, using your right only when I tell you, to keep from losing your edge. Enough for today, off to the bath with you—it is like your Companions you smell!”

He turned to Talia, who bit her lip, then said, “I have the feeling I’m in trouble.”

“In trouble? It is possible—” Alberich scowled; then unexpectedly smiled. “No fear, little Talia; it is that I am well aware how few were the chances for you to keep in practice. Today we will start slowly, and I will determine just how much you have lost. Tomorrow you will be in trouble.”

Talia was thanking the gods an hour later that Kris had insisted they both keep in fighting trim as much as possible. Alberich was reasonably pleased that she had lost so little edge, and kept his cutting remarks to a minimum. Nor was she the recipient of more than one or two bruising thwacks from his practice blade when she’d done something exceptionally stupid. On the whole, she felt as if she’d gotten off very lightly.

Another run, this time to wash and change yet again, and she was back at Healer’s Collegium, going over the past eighteen months with Devan and Rynee. Both were blessedly succinct; there had not been any truly major mental traumas for Rynee to deal with among the Heraldic Circle. As a result, Talia was able to flee to Companion’s Field just as the warning bell for supper sounded at the Herald’s Collegium.

Rolan was waiting at the fence, and she pulled herself onto his back without bothering with going for a saddle.

“I think,” she told him, as he walked off into a quiet copse, “that I may die of exhaustion. This is worse than when I was a student.”