I tried a headcut, which he parried and I parried his riposte to my heart and cut at his wrist.Īnd his blade was in his hand and mine in mine. "Oh, damnable brother" he said, retreating. "What makes you better than the rest of us, and more fit to rule?" "What an enormous chutzpah you possess," I told him. But you must recall that I've defeated you twice, mercifully granting you your life on a Shadow world the last occasion." I don't know why we are driven to strive so for this ridiculous position. "It's true, that uneasy-lies-the-head bit. Eric's retainers were coming, and if he didn't kill me before they arrived, then I was confident that they'd do the job - probably with a bolt from a crossbow. Then there were some alarms and excursions in the hall outside. If I didn't hate him so, I would have applauded his performance. But he dodged everything and came on strong, and I circled to his left and all like that, but I couldn't draw the point of his blade from my left eye. So I snatched things off the desk with my left hand and threw them at Eric. The greatest alive, I knew, was brother Benedict, and he wasn't around to help, one way or the other. We'd both had centuries under the greatest masters of the blade in business. I suddenly had the feeling that I couldn't take him, and I parried like mad and retreated in the same fashion as he beat me back, step by step. He was perhaps one of the greatest swordsmen I had ever faced. I tried a very fancy attack I'd learned in France, which involved a beat, a feint in quarte, a feint in sixte, and a lunge veering off into an attack on his wrist.Īnd he lunged then and beat me back, and I felt suddenly that for all my work he was still my master.
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