Tower of Zanid by L. Sprague de Camp

Author:L. Sprague de Camp [Camp, L. Sprague De]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780532754671
Publisher: Macfadden-Bartell
Published: 2010-07-12T22:00:00+00:00

* * *

The fighters circled, warier now. Fallon knew from the first few passages that they were well matched. While he was heavier and (being an Earthman) basically stronger, Kordaq was younger and had the longer reach. Kordaq's blanket offset Fallon's superior fencing-technique.

Tick-tick-clang!

Fallon knocked over a small table, kicked it out of the way.

Swish-chunk!

Kordaq feinted, then aimed a vicious cut at Fallon's head. Fallon ducked; the slash sheared through the bronze stem of the floor-lamp and set its top bouncing across the floor, while the remainder of the standard toppled over with a crash.

Clang-dzing!

Round and round they went. Once when Fallon found himself facing Gazi in the doorway, he took the occasion to shout, "I say, Gazi, go away! You're distracting us!"

She paid no attention, and the duel continued. By a sudden flurry of thrusts and lunges Kordaq backed Fallon against a wall. A final lunge would have nailed him to the wall, but Fallon jumped aside and Kordaq's point pierced the room's one picture, a cheap copy of Ma'shir's well-known painting Dawn Over Majbur. While Kordaq's blade was stuck in the plaster, Fallon gave a quick forehand cut at his foe, who caught the blow on his blanket, jerked out his sword, and faced his opponent again.

Tink-Swish!

Fallon threw another cut at Kordaq, who parried slantwise so that Fallon's blade bit into the little overturned table.

Fallon felt his blood pound in his ears. He moved slowly, it seemed to him as if wading through tar. But Kordaq, he could, see, was getting just as tired.

Tick-clank!

The fight went on arid on until both fighters were so exhausted that they could do little more than stand on guard, glaring at one another. Every ten seconds or so one or the other would summon up energy to make a feint or a lunge, which the other's unpierceable defense always, stopped.

Ding-zang!

Fallon grated, "We're too—damned even!"

Gazi's "voice proclaimed, "What ails you is that you're both cowards at liver, fearing to close each upon the other."

Kordaq shouted in a strangled voice, "Madam, would you like to trade places with me—to see how easy this is?"

"You are ridiculous," said Gazi. "I thought one or the other would be slain, so that my problem should be solved by choosing the survivor. But if you'll merely caper and mow all day…"

Fallon panted, "Kordaq, I think—she's urging us on—so she can enjoy—the sight of gore—at our expense."

"Methinks—you speak sooth—Master Antane."

They puffed for a few seconds more, like a pair of idling steam-locomotives. Then Fallon said, "Well, how about calling it off? It doesn't look—as if either of us—could best the other in a fair fight."

"You started it, sir, but if you wish to terminate it, I—as a reasonable man—will gladly entertain the proposal."

"So moved."

Fallon stepped back and half-sheathed his sword, watching Kordaq against any treacherous attack. Kordaq stepped into the alcove inside the door and sheathed his sword in the empty scabbard that hung from one of the coat-hooks. He looked at Fallon to be sure that the latter's blade was all the way in and his hand was off the hilt before he released his own hilt.

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