Swords of the Horseclans by Adams Robert

Once again, Senior-Captain Nathos soberly recited the rules and procedures, but added, “Lord Shaidos, I am informed that Lord Alexandros is willing to settle for a blood match. Is this agreeable to you?”

The gold traceries on Shaidos’ enameled helmet flashed to the shaking of his head.

Nathos sighed. “Very well. You may retire to your squares, gentlemen.”

Alexandros’ doubts that the dispirited Shaidos would fight were speedily dispelled. The garishly attired man trotted forward at the first tap of the drum roll and, without preliminaries, launched a lightning attack, his sword a silvery blur.

The Sea Lord -managed to catch or turn every slash and thrust on his target and sword blade, but the contacts jarred him to the very bone. Shaidos was obviously stronger than he appeared. Doggedly, he remained on the defensive, staving off attack after precipitate attack, knowing that his opponent must soon burn himself out—no mortal man could maintain such violent exertions for long.

And so it proved. Gradually, Shaidos’ blows and stabs were delivered with less force, his foot and shield work perceptibly slowed. As the target involuntarily fefl enough to disclose his strained, streaming red face, Alexandros stamped into the offensive, sweeping aside Shaidos’ blade with a swing of his shield and thrusting, straight- armed, for his foeman’s eyes.

He very nearly made it! Shaidos raised his target barely in time to save his eyes; even so, the hard-thrust weapon took him just under the rim of his gaudy helmet, sinking two inches into his forehead. Not realizing what had happened at first, Alexandros jerked with all his might to free his blade from whatever was locking it. Reluctantly, it came free with a sucking noise … and Shaidos’ lifeless form pitched face-down on the sand at his feet.

That he bent to turn over Shaidos’ body was all that saved Alexandros’ life. The throwing-ax meant for his face caromed off his helmet, filling his head with flashing light and a red-black roar, and driving him to his knees. He neither saw nor heard Hulios, who followed his ax with a leap over the barrier and dashed toward the dizzied Sea Lord, shrieking and sobbing, the ax’s twin held over his head. The slender boy managed two strides before a pair of black-shafted arrows thumped into his heaving chest. Still, dead on his feet, he essayed throwing the ax, but it flew far wide, striking the hot sand at almost the same time as Hulios’ fine-boned body.

Chapter 7

“I am reliably informed that you could have slain him long before the fact, Lord Alexandros. It is worth too much to our two realms for you to take such needless risks.”

Aldora had returned the day after the duel and Mara had finally managed the time to devote an entire evening to her guest-hostage.

Smiling into her eyes, he answered, “Viewing an action from afar and actually being in the heart of that action impart two very different perspectives, my lady. Many have informed me that I should have severed his knee tendons when I was behind him, just as many have chided me that I did not thrust below the edge of the backplate and skewer his kidney.

“I revere my lady and would not cause her distress, but I am a man and, as my lady must know, men fight.” The voice was gentle, but emphatic.

Mara once more experienced that prickly tingling. He had spoken almost identical words, once. “Lekos …” she began, without thinking. The Sea Lord’s easy smile returned to crinkle his young face. “Thank .you, Mara. I’d far rather be considered your friend than a formal guest. And a first-name basis makes conversation infinitely easier.”

Mara fought a quaver from her voice. “You are then called ‘Lekos’?”

He shrugged. “My late father called me that; some of my older captains still do. But Mara, why stare you so oddly at me?’

She did not answer, but rather asked, “Lekos, how long have you been Sea Lord?”

“Five years, my la … Mara, since the death of my father.”

“And your father reigned how long?” “Almost twenty-five years, Mara.” “And it’s been a good thirty years since any of your ships raided our coasts. Why? Aren’t our people wealthy enough? Aren’t our women sufficiently fair for the taste of your reavers?”

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