As Skent gets the wise idea to try and pull me down onto the ground with him while I’ve looked away for a split second. I feel the weight of his pull, my momentum carrying me.
One of my hands falls on his forehead, over his eyes, and I use it to shove the back of his skull into the mat and roll over him, bringing his hand with me.
Skent yelps as his arm dislocates once my somersault is complete and I’m back on my feet in a fighting stance.
His yelp turns into a sobbing whine, and I don’t offer him my hand again. “I know, I know, it hurts. Never turn your back on an enemy and all that. It was my fault, Skent. Vallan, if you could?”
The group watching has gone quiet. They didn’t expect the boy to have as much courage or stupidity as he does. I admire it, and I say as much when Vallan squats behind Skent’s supine form. “You did your best. It might have worked on someone your size and experience. But I’m older, stronger, and heavier than you.”
One of the boys watching whistles and says something crude when I mention my size, which earns an animalistic, scary hiss from Garroway, and turns the boy’s face pale.
I make Skent stare up at me past his tears, distracting him. His arm hangs loose and awkward, and he sniffles and opens his mouth to respond—
Crunch!
—just as Vallan sets his shoulder in its socket.
Skent howls. He falls onto his back, clutching his fixed arm and kicking his legs like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
His wailing brings Ant into the sparring room, who looks at the mat with concern. “What happened here?” He reels when he sees Vallan getting up from the mat, leaving Skent’s side to rejoin the spectators. “Don’t tell me you let that giant monster fight a fifteen—”
“No, Antones, it was me,” I interject before he can get any ideas. “Skent is the boy’s name, yes? He got a wily idea and it backfired on him. Vall was only helping, old friend.”
Ant looks sullen but accepts my words. “Please try to refrain from permanently scarring my lads, Sephania”
I snort. “Yourlads? You make them sound like property when you say that.”
He rolls his eyes, flaps a hand at me, and limps away with his cane clacking on the gravelly ground.
Skent crawls to take his place among the onlookers. I point to two others who are wielding real swords and look ready foraction. “Let’s see if you two have the same bravery and cunning your friend Skent has, eh?”
I step onto the mat, swords drawn wide. Out the corner of my eye, I notice my offhanded compliment has made Skent stop whining and now he’s tearfully smiling, getting a few shoulder bumps from his friends as well.
Good. Break them down to build them back up. Just like Skar, Vall, and Garro taught me—and did to me.
The twosome is a girl and boy, and they look related. I instantly recognize their tactics as they come at me from the sides, trying to flank me, which is smart. They’re sharp-eyed, using real steel like me, and mean business.
The boy charges in from the left.
I skitter into the guard of the girl to the right, closing the gap and surprising her by getting out of the boy’s reach. He swings at air, I parry the girl’s fumbling strike.
My eyes follow the boy’s feet, my gaze never making it to the girl as she leaps back and regroups to charge. Her attack is clumsy, with little force, easy to clank away with a swing of my longsword. I have my shortsword ready for the boy, and I see his feet slide wide to come at my side.
My blade punches forward, evoking a gasp from the boy as he stops short and goes upright to avoid getting stabbed in the throat. He bats my sword away and tries to immediately riposte overhanded—
Which I anticipate. He only finds air when I drop to my knees, evading the girl’s two-handed swing at my torso at the same time. Itwhooshestwo inches over my head, thankfully missing my hair, before clanging against his comrade’s sword as they meet in the middle, in the space where I’d just been.
My shortsword flips in my hand and I smack the flat of the blade against the boy’s calf, ringing out with athwapand bringing him to one knee. He yips, grunting—
And I charge forward from my knees before the girl can regroup and try to stab me in the back. I hear her let out a huff of exasperation as I evade her again, and she’s close behind with her sword swinging.
My elbow crunches into the boy’s sternum and sends him on his back. I barrel over him, kicking his sword away, and spin just in time to parry the girl charging at my back.
Our swords rattle and spark, rasping off one another. I have all the advantage and she quickly realizes it—size, height, reach, plus I have two swords to her one.
The audience is silent, eyes wide, watching intently as the two younglings put on a show with the old legend lady who just newly arrived. I get the feeling they might be the best trained in their class, and I’m impressed.
I’ve broken a sweat, my breath is slightly elevated.