"Never mind her thoughts on punishment," Kanik said. "When that man shoved her down in the street? The girl thought she deserved it. She assumed it was normal. When she talks about her life in the compound, I feel like every other sentence is about how she couldn't do something without being punished. That's what she calls a beating, Lessa. 'Punished.' And the things she wasn't allowed to do included reading, walking in the wrong hall, and so many other things that just seem mind-blowing."
"Shit…" Lessa breathed. "Let me guess, they probably raped her too?"
I shook my head. "Girls aren't allowed to be around boys or men until they turn twenty. Lucky for Ayla, since they didn't give her the chance to refuse to marry that man. To stop her marriage, she decided to stick a fork in him. That was considered attempted murder, which was how she got thrown out before the man could have his way with her."
Lessa simply pressed her lips together and nodded her head slowly a few times. I glanced over at Kanik, but he shook his subtly, making it clear I should let my friend work this out on her own. When Lessa grabbed for her glass, downing the last of her beer in a single gulp, I realized she really was thinking about this - and hard.
"So this timid, sheltered girl was abused her entire life, and her only way to fight back was to use a fucking fork to defend herself?" Lessa looked up at me. "Okay, that's fucked up."
"And that's just the smallest part," I assured her. "Zasen isn't dating the girl. He's trying to help her figure out that being a woman doesn't mean she's weak. So are we."
Lessa shoved her empty glass towards me, making it clear she wanted another. Instead of filling it, I gave her mine, which she immediately lifted and began guzzling. I could feel my eyebrows rising with each swallow she took. Lessa wasn't normally the kind of girl to chug like this.
Then she set the glass back down on the bar just a little too hard. "Okay, if what you're saying is true, then I'll beat the shit out of anyone who hurts her." Lifting a hand, she carefully wiped the corners of her mouth. "And I'll give her a chance. I can't promise I'll like her, but I'll convince myself she isn't a Mole, and give the girl a chance. But if she fucks up…"
I reached over and clasped Lessa's hand. "And that," I told her, "is why you're one of my closest friends. Bad time to mention we're going to start teaching her how to use a bow and other weapons?"
"Krael too," Kanik muttered under his breath.
Lessa just pulled her hand back and shoved to her feet. "Dammit, Rymar. And I was actually going to end this talk on a friendly note. The two of you are going to make me go grey before I'm even thirty. Fucking teaching a Mole how to fight? Are you three insane?"
Throwing her hands up one more time, she turned for the stairs and made her way out without even bothering to say goodbye. Then again, that was her style. Lessa was definitely a bitch, but she was the kind of bitch I wanted on my side. The kind of bitch who was the most fun to get in trouble with. And yes, she was also the kind of bitch that would honestly give Ayla a chance - after bitching about it for a few days.
Fifty-ThreeAyla
After the seamstress left, Zasen told me I could finish whatever he'd interrupted. I'd been cleaning. It seemed that aboveground, there was a lot more dust to settle than we'd had to deal with in the compound. Not only that, but as I wiped it away, I was learning where things were kept and memorizing my way around the house I lived in.
I hadn't wanted to pry, but when Zasen headed out to the backyard, I may have snooped a bit more. Nothing impolite. I was simply curious. Besides, the living room and kitchen were public areas. That meant the things in them shouldn't be too personal.
But before I'd finished, Zasen stuck his head through the back door and called for me. "Ayla, put on a dress that isn't too loose and let's see what you think of this?"
I looked down at what I was wearing and decided it would do. I still didn't have shoes, but the woman today had measured my feet for them. So, I headed that way, stepping outside to find nothing but soft grass under my feet.
And Zasen had set up a training area in the small, flat area between his house and the steep hill behind it. This was like the targets he'd put up for Tamin, but more. Some were made of wood. Others looked like stacked grass or something. Of course, he'd hung the cloth things called "bullseyes" as well.
Then there was the collection of weapons. I was surprised to see he not only had Tamin's small crossbow, but also a selection of other weapons. Among those were throwing knives and the handheld kind. He'd even laid out three of the curved blades Dragons liked so much. The ones they called krael.
"Okay," he said, gesturing to the display. "Today, we're going to see which weapons you like best. Think of this as letting your body pick your fighting style."
"Okay," I agreed.
"And when we know what works best for you, we'll focus on those," he said. "So, let me explain all of this to you."
He started out easy, going over the purpose and restrictions of every weapon. For each kind, he explained its strengths and weaknesses. Then he talked about the variations that would make a weapon more suited to a person or harder for them to use.
Information was the one thing I excelled at. Everything he said, I soaked up, trying to memorize all of it. And when that part was done, he started me off with a very small bow. The normal kind. Not with arrows, though.
I had to learn how to hold it, how to draw back the string, and how to aim. He took time to correct my stance. Repeatedly, he adjusted my arms, reminding me the string could strike my skin and leave impressive bruises.
And when I got it right, he pointed to the longer arrows on the table. After showing me how to "nock" one onto the string, I was then allowed to fire at the hanging cloth bullseyes. Then, I had to do it again. Over and over and over, he made me fire the bow, until I could put the arrow through the cloth.
Somehow, I learned to shoot well enough to hit the fabric, but not well enough to hit any of the rings he'd marked in the center. The arrow just wouldn't go quite where I wanted! Zasen seemed pleased, though. When he wrapped his arms around me to adjust my aim, I felt myself tense up, but pushed through it.
Touching was okay. Kanik had said so this morning. It didn't need to be improper. Still, it felt weird. It made my body do strange things, and I wasn't sure how to handle it. I wasn't sure if I even liked the sensations.
All my life, having a man this close had been terrifying, but with Zasen or Kanik, it made my mind bounce around instead.
But I said nothing.
I could still remember how Kanik had explained his pain when I'd jerked back. He'd said he was hurt, even though he wasn't wounded. He meant his feelings, so I shouldn't do that again. I didn't want my fears to cause pain for my friends. Especially not if Zasen was just trying to teach me how to use a weapon. This was something I would definitely need to know if I wanted to stop the Moles.
Yet I was distracted. It wasn't only his breath on my neck, but the heat of his entire body. I could feel him from the base of my skull all the way down to my ankles. He was so close, but nothing about this felt like he was going to hurt me.
It felt nice in a way that made my pulse pound much too quickly.
It didn't matter that he didn't look like most men. I wanted to press back into him. I longed to turn and see his face, wondering what expression was there. My lips wanted to curl into a smile, and the urge to giggle kept happening for no reason. I pushed it down every time, yet for the first time in my life, I finally understood those foolish romance books I'd read in the compound.
But those were fantasy. It wasn't how people really were, and Gideon had proven that. Pushing those stupid desires away, I tried my hardest to aim better and concentrate on the target. Zasen was helping me learn a real skill, something that mattered, and I didn't want him to think I wasn't taking it seriously.
"Tighten through here," he said, dragging his nails down my belly.
I sucked in a breath, partly in shock, and looked back quickly. That had been almost intimate!
"Sorry," he whispered.
"It's okay." Because I was going to get through this.
Yet his eyes softened even as they dropped to my mouth. "Ayla, what's your favorite color?"
