The armsmaster greeted him with the familiar scowl. “What did you do to have the Marshal-Judicar hold you beyond your time?”

“Asked him a question, sir,” Camwyn said. “He wished to make sure I understood it fully.”

“And do you?”

“Yes, sir,” Camwyn said, thinking meanwhile that understanding did not mean agreement.

“Well, let’s see if you understand this.” The armsmaster handed him a hauk, not the blade he’d used in the last two practice sessions. “Do you know why?”

“No, sir,” Camwyn said. He held the smooth wood, polished by many hands over the years.

“Your parries are weak with the longsword,” the armsmaster said. “Your height is one thing; the strength of shoulder, arm, and wrist is another. You will build up strength before you pick up a long blade again. In the meantime, you will learn the moves with a reed-blade.”

Camwyn opened his mouth to protest, then thought better of it. Armsmaster Fralorn won most arguments with his students, and Camwyn did not wish to invite a negative report to his brother.

“Yes, sir,” he said.

“I will show you the exercises I want you to use,” Fralorn said. “And if you can find a glass in your busy day to work on your own, I will see by your increasing strength whether you are following my instructions. Or, if you prefer, we can spend the next five tendays working with hauks in your weapons class.”

“I will do it, sir,” Camwyn said.

The armsmaster nodded. “I thought you would say that. If you wish, you may come here, or you may take hauks with you. If you wish to improve your friends’ fighting skills, invite them to join you.”

For the next half-glass Camwyn worked with the hauk, the armsmaster insisting on correct form at every point. “Until I’m certain your body has learned the forms, we will spend a short time every session in review, but I will depend on you to do most of the work on your own,” the armsmaster said. “If you do not improve soon, we will do more of this here.”

“Yes, sir,” Camwyn said, trying not to pant. His shirt was soaked with sweat.

After that, he rose early each morning and put in the time with hauks. He was soon bored with the exercise; he knew the armsmaster expected him to give it up. Instead, he invited his friends in the palace to join him. Aris Marrakai, as he might have expected, was the most faithful of the others. Camwyn had long since understood the king’s reason for attainting his former friend Egan Verrakai and no longer blamed Aris Marrakai for taking Egan’s place. Aris was lively and mischievous, very much a kindred spirit.