The Kinshield Legacy Read Online Free PDF Page B

Her voice sounded harsh, accusatory.
    Brawna nodded. She started to answer, but her voice caught and she cleared her throat. “Yes, m’lady. I think so.” She pressed her hands against her legs to stop them from trembling, and she resisted the urge to chew her lower lip.
    “You think so? Brawna, that’s not good enough,” Lilalian said. “Your foe’s ready and eager for battle.” She jerked her head toward the courtyard.
    A small cart waited near the door and on it, a gray beast paced inside an iron cage. Now and then, it stopped and looked about, its claws curled like fingers around the bars. The beyonder’s black eyes looked like glass beads, unmoving in its head. Without fur, its skin rippled like a coat made of tiny worms and smelled faintly of sulfur. It pressed its dark gray snout through the space between two bars, mouth open baring pointed teeth and a long pink tongue. The beyonder looked as benign as a dog panting in the warm spring air.
    Brawna felt her lip curl involuntarily at the sight of the thing. That abomination was far from a dog. One of the instructors snorted softly. Brawna steeled herself against her revulsion, clenching her teeth, and strode toward the cage, determined to show the other women that she did not fear it. A shiver ran up Brawna’s arms and down her spine. She wanted to kill it right then, and to hell with pomp or process.
    “Brawna, you are ready for this,” her instructor said. “You’ve passed every waypoint exam with strength, skill and grace. Don’t let the ceremony or the beast intimidate you into losing confidence. We wouldn’t let you do this if you weren’t ready.”
    Brawna shot a glance at Lilalian and found that the captain’s expression had softened. As she looked around at the instructors that were to serve on her panel, she now saw compassion in their eyes. Compassion and maybe, possibly, faith. “Yes. I’m ready,” she said, the strength in her own voice surprising.
    “Let’s begin,” Lilalian said, and walked out.
    The black sashes exited the building in a line behind the captain, marching across the grass. Brawna followed in her white trousers and tunic and blue sash, pulling the cart behind her. As Lilalian approached the center of the courtyard, she called, “Clear the grounds.” She waved her arms to the warriors who were practicing their moves. They obeyed without hesitation.
    Women gathered to watch, leaning against the walls of the surrounding buildings or squatting in the patch of shade under the oak tree in the corner of the compound. Most were very young and inexperienced. Some hadn’t yet faced their first trial as evidenced by the white sashes around their waists. One day many of them would be facing this trial themselves. Brawna knew they were there to watch as much for their own mental preparation as in support of her. Among them, the older warriors stood out.
    They moved with a rare grace born of narrow misses, years of swinging heavy weapons and the quick instincts that kept battlers alive. The gray in their hair and the lines on their faces were not signs of growing weakness, but of incredible strength and wisdom. Brawna knew in her heart that one day she, too, would be as distinguished.
    From the center of the courtyard, Brawna searched the audience and when she saw Daia she smiled, relieved. Everything would be all right.
    Daia held up two fingers in the popular “V” salute of the Viragon Sisterhood, and nodded at Brawna.
    As the instructors and judges in the courtyard inspected Brawna’s sword and the cage, Brawna walked about, head bowed, shaking her hands. “I can do this,” she whispered to herself. “I am strong; I am prepared; I am a battler.”
    The last judge handed Brawna her sword. She slid it into the scabbard on her belt while the warriors walked away from her to stand at their places. Once the women had formed a wide circle around Brawna and her foe, they readied their weapons; three notched an arrow into their