The pre-dawn period of mornings in Lorian Demesne were surprisingly peaceful.

  Riz was used to villages, towns and forts waking up well before dawn, in that period of time when the sun was still beneath the horizon but the sky was bright enough to keep you from tripping over your own feet. Mikon had told her that in the south people woke up even earlier because it was too hot to work in the middle of the day, and those who tried risked getting heat-sick. That didn’t mean there wasn’t work to be done in the middle of the day, it just couldn’t be outside…

  Not here. Few people up this early. There were Shana and Karina, the two of them working together to work the Lady Binder’s magic on the crops that had been planted. There was Tae, who was ahead of the two and using her own Deadspeaking on the plants to prepare them for Shana. There were some of the men and women who worked at the kitchen, who had to get breakfast ready by getting water boiling, pulling the dough they’d prepared the night before out of the cold room. There were the ones who ran the bath houses, who had to heat the bathwater, replace the water in the basins and tubs, and make sure the baths were clean. A few other people who slipped her mind.

  On the whole, however, most of the demesne still slept. People would still wake up before sunrise, but that was perhaps half an hour away as the water clock dripped, and even then few would be in any rush.

  In the gloom of morning, Riz stood facing Rian, a quarterstaff in her hands, while he held a heavy walking stick that he held like a sword. At least, he was currently holding it like a sword. That might change.

  Moving carefully, she swung one end of the quarterstaff to come down towards his head, ready to pull it back if it risked striking him, but she need not have worried. Moving with equal speed, Rian used the stick to parry aside the blow from one side, then the other as Riz swung the other end of the quarterstaff. Rian responded by moving his stick in a ribbon-figure motion, parrying the blow from his other side. The two of them fell into a rhythm as Riz swung at Rian from the left and right, her staff coming in from high and low at random, to which he responded with parrying.

  It was a simple exchange, more to get their hearts pumping than any serious practice, and it let Riz’s mind wander a little even as she remained watchful in case she had to pull her swing. Really, times like this showed the truth of that rumor that he was some kind of noble who’d run away from home. How else would he be that good with a sword while still so young? It wasn’t the first time such a thing had happened. Everyone knew about Rilianne, who’d become a Deadspeaker in the militia. No lumberyard worker would have learned to swing a stick like that, though the flourish he did as he parried her blow was probably a bad habit he picked up there. While pretty, such things were only good in the theater. They weren’t practical to use in real life.

  Well, he probably knew that, but he seemed to enjoy the move, so Riz let it be even as she made sure he saw her rolling her eyes.

  After several passes, they stepped back slightly and began to spar for real. Instead of only coming from the side, she jabbed with the end of her staff, trying to get one of his legs to make him lose his balance, while he moved from simply defensive to attacking, aiming thrusts at her head, neck and chest. Rian moved with a tempered aggression, only attacking after parrying one of her strikes and forcing her staff out of position where she couldn’t defend herself or retaliate.

  He pulled his strikes too, so the hurt was mostly in her pride, but more of his strikes landed compared to hers. Using spearing motions hadn’t helped, since he seemed to find it easier to parry her when she did that, and he tended to step deeply into her guard to keep her from being able to bring her ‘spearpoint’ to bear. Trying to kick him was worse, since he’d push her leg inward and throw of her balance, which was often enough to make them stop so she could reset. However, he could sometimes be baited by feints, especially if she moved quickly and sacrificed power for speed.

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  Neither of them spoke, and the only sounds were their footsteps on the ground, the crack of wood against wood, the occasional weak thump as they managed to land a hit, and every so often the subtle whistle of the air as Rian flourished his stick between parries. She’d used to try punishing him for those when they’d started doing this—purely to teach him a lesson and not because she was a frustrated at how well he was doing compared to her, honest—but quickly learned how fast he could go from spinning to swinging, and now she knew the move was meant to try and bait her.

  They were both learning. At first, Riz hadn’t been very good at reacting to when he got inside her guard. Now she could respond with kicks, elbows, knees, and responding with the butt of her staff. Rian for his part had gotten very good at grabbing the haft of her staff when the opportunity presented itself during his parries or when she tried for a thrust, pulling and pushing at the stave to try to unbalance her or make her lose her grip or simply keeping it out of the way so his stick could go in for a strike. Normally, Riz could have punished that by pulling back and thrusting—she’d certainly done it to enough bandits—but Rian had quickly adapted to that, closing the distance to her as soon as he could so she couldn’t make space.

  In a real fight, of course, it wouldn’t have been that easy. She’d have been wielding a spear, and having something sharp and pointy at the end of her stave would have made things very different. Her movements would have been faster and more sure since she wouldn’t need to worry about pulling her blows at the last moment, and each strike would have been followed through properly. Rian was good, but in a real fight, she’d have bloodied him.

  A part of her wondered just how quickly he would have been able to blood her if he didn’t need to hold back.

  The sky had brightened to blue, and other people were starting to emerge from their houses to headed for the baths when Rian finally said, “We better stop now.”

  Riz let out a sigh of relief as she lowered her staff, grounding one end and trying to not be obvious about leaning against it for support. As a former member of the militia, her pride wouldn’t let her be the one to say she was done and imply she couldn’t outlast a civilian, but Rian could keep going for a surprisingly long time. “Oh, you’re finally tired?” she said, smiling to let him know she was only teasing.

  “Exhausted,” he said as he played along. “Besides, I need to talk to some people before breakfast, so now’s a good time to stop as any.”

  “Well, all right, if that’s as far as you want to go,” Riz said, womanfully ignoring all the little aches on her biceps where he’d managed to land blows. “Come on, let’s put this back.”

  The two of them fell into step, heading towards the shed where the staves, spears, and other long tools were kept. Rian sometimes muttered—darkly or in jest depending on his mood at the time—how they’d finally start locking the shed once someone was found murdered, which… sounded about right to Riz. For now, it was open to everyone, although as a matter of course there was someone whose job it was to count up all the tools at the end of the day and take the ones that needed fixing to the smiths.

  The walk was a short one but they took their time, and though they didn’t hold hands—that was a far too embarrassing for Riz, at least in broad daylight—the leisurely stroll they took felt… nice. Once the stave was put back with the other spare staves against the wall, they strolled back just as leisurely. There was always something to do once breakfast finished, and Rian in particular went out of his way to find as much work to do as possible, so this was the most time they’d be able to spend together until they went home later that night.

  As they neared the house, Riz felt something brush against her fingers. Glancing around quickly, she reached out and took Rian’s hand in hers as they walked the few steps to the front door. Through the paper screens over the windows, she could hear movement, Mikon and Umu obviously awake and getting ready to head to the baths.

  “Thanks for helping me practice,” Rian said as they reached the door.

  “You’re welcome,” Riz said, tugging on his hand slightly to keep him from opening it just yet. “Though, if you’re looking for a way to pay me back….” She leaned back against the door with a smile.

  He took the hint with a smile of his own that was still just a little bit shy and hesitant as he pressed her against the wood, his lips meeting hers…

  A few moments later, she nearly fell into the house as the door was opened. Fortunately, Rian had still been holding her hand.