”Can’t we talk about this?” Kit gasped, using Kynan’s native language. Where in hell did he get a croquet mallet?
For answer, Kynan swept that damned mallet up and sideways. Kit couldn’t get out of the way in time, although he twisted into a pretzel trying. He felt ribs crunch. The whole Commons greyed out for a moment while his voice did some creative sound effects.
Fortunately, Kynan Rhys Gower was still off balance and staggering from that blow to the hips. That allowed Kit to recover while the Welshman was still drawing the mallet back for the next try.
Okay, that’s it ….
Time for a quick coup de grace to end this nonsense.
Kit attacked first. In one swift motion, he swept the mallet back with one arm then threw a shoulder blow into the Welshman’s ribcage. His whole weight hit just below Kynan’s raised arm. He felt ribs crack again, but this time they weren’t his. A shock of pain jolted through his own broken ribs anyway. Kynan howled and tried to fend him off with the mallet.
Kit grabbed the heavy wooden head and pulled sharply, then slammed Kynan’s straightened elbow and shoved back on the mallet. Kynan gasped in pain. Then, with a circular sweep, push, and snatch, Kit simply jerked the makeshift weapon away.
Kynan was left blinking in pain and surprise, disarmed before he quite knew what had happened.
”Now look,” Kit wheezed, “I don’t know what your problem is … and I’m not a vindictive guy…”
Kynan started to spring at him, fingers curved into claws ready to gouge whatever they found.