In the Eye of Heaven by David Keck

Author:David Keck
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy - Epic, Fantasy - General, Fantasy fiction, Fiction - Fantasy, Fiction, Knights and knighthood, Fantasy, General, Historical, Fantasy - Historical, Epic, Science Fiction And Fantasy
ISBN: 9780765351692
Publisher: Macmillan
Published: 2007-03-06T18:35:38.945000+00:00

Abrupdy, Cerlac swung. The shearing overhand bit deep through the lime planks of Durand's shield and stuck. Durand yanked, but couldn't pull free. For an instant, an animal panic gripped him. Cerlac wrenched the shield, twisting the blade— it was a chance. With jaws locked, Durand hauled on his shield and tripped Cerlac in a fairground wrestler's throw that sent the man sprawling even as the Col Stags split—the shield useless.

Cerlac hit the ground.

Durand blinked at the wreckage in his fist, knowing he could block nothing now. His shoulders smoldered like hot lead. But Cerlac was down—helpless for a moment. They were gasping in the stands. Women's voices. Doom turned on this heartbeat: One of them must die.

But Durand closed his eyes. A man cannot choose the time of his ending, only the manner of it. He let the ruined shield fall from his arm and Cerlac get to his feet.

Tense and still, Durand raised the broken lance in salute. Cerlac was looking at him. What they began, they must finish. Cerlac nodded and raised his sword.

The ending began with Cerlac. He reeled forward, casting his blade into a looping sledgehammer's swing. Durand beat the blade aside with his bit of lance, warding his face with his free hand.

Cerlac swung again, forcing Durand to weave and stumble. There was no time to counter. He could scarcely breathe. With every step, the swinging weight of his hauberk pitched and carried him.

Finally, Cerlac aimed another sledgehammer swing for Durand's head. Durand could only bull himself inside, trapping Cerlac's blade high. The other man skipped back. Durand lurched clear and hurled a scything blow at his opponent's shins.

With what fire remained in his blood, Durand barged close yet again. Lights burst in his eyes. He could hear Cerlac's breath rasping against the face of his helm. Durand crashed the broken end of his lance against the painted diamonds there and held on, hammering again and again, almost losing his grip in desperation.

They staggered apart. Durand had nothing left. Cerlac was clawing at his helm. Round pennies of flaked paint glinted where Durand's blows had fallen. For a moment, Durand thought something had happened. Some blow had got through. Then the man caught himself, flinging the helmet aside.

In the final assault, Durand caught blows on his forearm, his shoulder. Staggering, Durand covered his face. Something raked down his head. His ear. There was blood.

And there was a moment. Durand's eyes focused. Cerlac's bare face was a mask of blood. He held his sword high, the blade flashing its image in Durand's eyes. Then he brought it hurtling down.

Durand remembered leaping inside the arc, trying to bring his lance up. There was a scream.

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