They drilled twenty times, Aiden gradually increasing speed and power as Callum's confidence grew. By the end his brother was managing proper deflections, footwork carrying him out of danger while his weapon guided incoming strikes away.
"That's enough." Aiden lowered his broom handle. "You did well."
Callum dropped his weapon and bent over, hands on knees, gulping air. "I feel like I'm dying."
"You'll feel worse tomorrow when the soreness sets in." Aiden gathered the practice weapons. "Come on. Let's get inside."
Their mother took one look at them and immediately started fussing, pulling them inside and practically shoving them toward the bathroom to wash up. "You're both completely soaked," she said, her voice hovering somewhere between worried and exasperated. "Get cleaned up before you catch pneumonia."
