A Hero for the Empire: The Dragon's Bidding, Book 1 by Christina Westcott

Author:Christina Westcott
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
Published: 2014-10-06T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

“You’re dead. Again.”

The practice sword—a length of conduit with a tape-wrapped handle—dug into the hollow below Fitz’s breastbone. Wolf stepped back, his makeshift weapon still at the ready. “Shall we try that again?”

Until now, Fitz’s entire experience with a sword had been limited to belting one on over her dress uniform, but Wolf insisted she learn how to use the archaic weapon before they reached Baldark. He wanted to blend in with the natives, leaving no evidence of an advanced technology’s visit. They’d been at it for several hours.

Sweat dripped from Fitz’s nose; her ribs and forearms ached from repeated blows. Her temper was long past frayed. Wolf explained, cajoled and yelled at her. With a flurry of blows, he forced her to give ground, moving backward across the long narrow room in engineering. His talents were wasted as a mere mercenary commander. He possessed all the ruthless charm of an Academy drill instructor.

“Sword up. Keep your body sideways to present the smallest target. That’s good,” he said as she complied. “There’s always the possibility you’ll come up against an expert swordsman, but in all likelihood, it’ll be just hackers and slashers. They’ll keep coming at you. No style, just brute force.” He launched into a series of blows that had her back peddling and blocking. She called on her augmented speed to whip her weapon around quickly enough to keep from being smacked again.

Fitz recognized a rhythm to his swings, starting to anticipate his next blows. He feigned a move to her right and she twisted to block, but he suddenly spun, bringing the piece of pipe smashing into her exposed left side.

She squawked. “Dammit. That hurt.”

“It would hurt a lot more if it was a real sword. Don’t get lulled into thinking you know what your opponent is going to do. That’s a good way to get seriously dead.”

Wolf held up the practice weapon. “In a melee, it’s not always about stabbing and slashing. A real sword would have crosspieces, or quillons, here at the top of the hilt. Not only do they protect your hand from downward blows, but you can use them like little daggers and strike out at your opponent’s face.” He reversed the pipe and tapped the bottom of the grip. “And the pommel is more than a counterbalance. You can use that, too, to strike out. Like this.”

Fitz flinched back, but his fist stopped short of her jaw.

“It’s not like fencing,” he continued. “You don’t get points for style or grace. You use whatever you have to put the other guy down as quickly and lethally as possible. Before he does it to you.” He stepped back and raised his mock blade. “Now, again.”

She groaned and rolled her eyes. Downloading a program on sword fighting before she left the AriR would have been a lot easier, but there hadn’t been one available in the ship’s computer. That information could have been requisitioned from Special Operations Personnel at Striefbourne City, but she didn’t want to explain why she needed such an antiquated skill.

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