Friday, March 16, 2012

Four Corners of the Court (Friday Fiction)

Hi everyone! I've the pleasure of hosting Friday Fiction this week and I'm just a bit late on getting the linky up, but it's here at last! To join in the fun, simply add your link to your piece of original fiction to the linky widget below. Don't forget to read and comment--everyone loves the feedback!

Author's Ramblings: I'm cheating just a bit this week--using another character sketch.I have an idea I don't have time to write out, so of course, I fall back on the staple of character sketches. This week features four men and a knife-throwing girl and a possible bandit attack? Hmm. Enjoy the read!


The knife landed dead center on the target with a deliberate thwack.

Instructor Aiden's eyebrows arched upwards into his curly hair. "Impressive, Miss Adalia." He allowed. "Perhaps your father's skills are rubbing off on you after all."

The petite brunette chose that moment to give a spectacular roll of her eyes. "Of course." She said, primly. "You would only think to credit my father for my mother's natural talent." She rose from the wooden bench with a huff and stomped away from the archery field.

"I think you might have upset her." Damian twisted around in his stance, attempting to follow the small figure's progress back to the castle.

"Eyes in front, idiot." The training master's assistant, Jarrick, thwapped the straw-colored head in front of him. "I'm not wasting my time out here for you to be ogling at our Lord's daughter, because-"

"Can her ladyship really throw?" The trainee ducked the second headslap and returned his attention to the fixed stance. His feet were laced to a heavy board on the ground, positioned in the way the specific stance required and he was practicing the assigned reps.

Aiden shrugged. "I've never seen her ladyship so much as lift a finger. Some days it seems like breathing would take too much out of her."

"Master." Jarrick hummed, warningly. "You shouldn't speak ill of things you don't know about."

"And you would know?" Damian studied the assistant, curiously. "I haven't seen her at all and I've been here for what, seven years now?"

"Six." Aiden and Jarrick corrected together.

The young man flushed a lovely shade of pink-red.  "Six. Right."

"Keep practicing." Jarrick slapped him lightly on the shoulder as he strolled off towards the painted targets. He inspected the battery of knives embedded in the wooden targets and suppressed a whistle of admiration. The girl had good aim.

And he highly doubted that their busy Lord had anything to do with the new skill.


"A minute, Master Aiden." He called over his shoulder. "Shall I polish and return these at dinner?"

"There's no need for that."

The voice was completely unexpected and Jarrick, whirled, the deadly blades in hand. He held them at the throat of the newcomer, before the rest of him caught up to the action and he took a step backwards. The black-clothed figure surveyed him with pale, golden eyes, glittering in amusement.

"Apprentice Jarrick." The soft, whispery voice breathed. "I came for her ladyship's knives." He bowed, respectfully.

Jarrick bit back a frown, studying the sincere figure of the recently acquired companion for the young Lord's daughter. He didn't approve, but of course, his opinion carried little weight 'round the castle and it wasn't his place. "Eli." He greeted, stiffly.

"May I?"

The knives were handed over.

"Thank you."

There was a rush of wind and when Jarrick flinched, from the sand, Eli vanished in seconds.


"Coming!" The assistant sighed and turned away. There was something that didn't quite sit well with the fighting instructor's apprentice.

"Ow!" Damian's voice caught his attention. He'd toppled over.

Jarrick rolled his eyes and gave up on plucking any arrows from the targets as he made his way across the trimmed grass and to the fallen figure. "You know, this is supposed to improve your sense of balance, not worsen it." He commented, dryly.

"Spare me." The young man retorted. "And just spare my-"

A clatter of noise at the far end of the front courtyard drew everyone's attention. There were yells, shouts and the clash of swords before Jarrick suddenly realized what was happening. He dropped quickly to his knees to slash at the ropes binding Damian to the board. "Stay down and keep quiet!" He hissed.

"Jarrick?" The teasing was all gone now and a trademark stroke of seriousness instantly overtook the strategist. "Is it a drill?"

"No. I'd have known if it was." Jarrick sucked in a careful breath. "They're brave to attack in broad daylight. I guess we'll have some fun on our hands. They haven't seen us yet."

"That good or bad?"

"A bit of both."

"Hmm." Damian grunted. We've got to get a better point."

"Actually going to use that head of yours?"

"Naturally." Damian smirked.

"Then let's run for it."

(c) Sara Harricharan

Thanks for reading!


Yvonne Blake said...

Interesting! I hope you find the time to develop this into a full-fledged story.

Catrina Bradley said...

You must have a million characters living in your imagination. Each one you create is unique. Intriguing start!