Chapter 3

Every morning, in the pre-dawn, twilight hour when the sky was bright with morning and the golden flare of the sun as it broke the horizon and started its procession across the sky is still to come, Jarn would exercise. Whether at home, in a jail cell, or while camped on the countryside, it made no difference. This morning ritual was the single consistent element of her chaotic life.

On this morning, Stun was balanced carefully on a thin branch high above the camp not more than half a dozen yards from where she rose. Wrapped loosely in a coarse, densely woven blanket with random, short bands in light and medium earth tones, his pair of long daggers resting across his thighs and his crossbow hanging from his shoulder, Stun felt sufficiently prepared for the nightwatch. Had danger approached, and he was unable to stop its approach with the bolts or a well-aimed throw of a dagger, the second he would deliver directly as he lept onto the enemy from above.

This night, like so many past, had come and gone and left him with possession of both daggers and all his bolts. Now Jarn stirred quietly from her blankets, and he would remain at watch until breakfast was prepared, when he would eat, then curl up to sleep for the hour or two until the group was ready to move on.

Jarn lifted herself slowly from where she had slept, pressed close to Thomas’ back. Careful not to wake him, or disturb any of the party, she shrugged off her covers, retrieved her robe, and wrapping herself in it, quietly padded away with her quarterstaff toward the far side of the nearby shallow ravine.

Though she was clearly the group’s spellcaster, she had never felt the need to define herself rigidly by that particular skill, or any skill for that matter. She was a skilled cook, but she accepted her role of preparing meals for the group because of the pleasure she derived from serving the others. She considered it gratuitious that the party actually savored her culinary creations — especially considering the quality of primary ingredients most of the time.

Similarly, she practiced with her quarterstaff every morning for the satisfaction that came from the exercise. Never mind that she continued to fall back on the staff as her primary weapon in combat, and that her daily training had probably done more to save her life than anything she had copied to her spell books.

Jarn’s morning training ritual included a rehearsal of the various strikes and positions used with the staff, at both exaggeratedly slow and full speeds, along with balance exercises and muscle maintenance routines. Each workout concluded with a throrough set of stretches. Stun observed in her the same agility and dexterity which he possessed, and he envied her ability to stretch so freely. On occasions when they sparred, he would wonder what caused her to choose spellcasting. Clearly, she would have been able to handle a sword just as adeptly as her quarterstaff, and he sometimes thought that she may have chosen to study the wrong school of instruction.