steel and fire 03 - dance of steel by rivet jordan

Author:rivet, jordan [rivet, jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

24.

Ridge Road

SIV landed in the dirt with a thud. He scrambled to his feet, barely keeping a grip on his knife. His shoulder ached from hitting the packed ground. It had been a few days since the last rain, so at least he hadn’t been thrown in the mud.

His opponent darted in with a succession of quick jabs. Siv met each one with a rough swipe of his short steel blade, a block with the forearm or elbow, or a duck. Knife fighting was mostly about grappling and movement. There was very little blade contact involved. The rare clang of knife against knife was different from the ringing of swords: muted, but no less dangerous.

He barely caught the last swipe. His muscles strained as he kept the point from touching his skin with a death grip on his opponent’s wrist. Sweat dripping down his face, he forced the knife away bit by bit. Then his opponent punched him in the nose.

The next thing Siv knew, he was on his back, looking up at a cloudless winter sky.

Kres loomed into view. “I told you to watch out for that.”

“I thought this was a knife fight,” Siv grumbled.

“Knife. Fist. Either one will fell you if your guard is down,” Kres said. “Technically, a victory only counts in the pen if you stab your opponent or bring your blade to his throat, but nothing says you can’t knock him unconscious first.”

Siv lurched to his feet and picked up his fallen blade. The knife Kres had given him was twice as long as his hand from hilt to tip and had a wicked edge. It was heavier than it looked, made from quality steel. He’d only been practicing for a few days, but Siv already felt as if the blade were part of him.

He didn’t have time to admire it, though. Kres rushed in for another attack before he even assumed his guard position. Siv avoided the swipe and leapt backward, dropping into a crouch. He circled Kres, watching for weaknesses. The man didn’t have many.

The stance had been the hardest part to get used to as he made the transition from sword to knife. Siv had good reflexes, but it felt strange to crouch as he danced around and around his opponent. Knife fighting could make a man dizzy.

Siv had been with the pen fighters for five days. They traveled the wild Truren countryside, only occasionally passing remote farms and hovels. They trained every day, sometimes with individual weapons, sometimes going two-on-two or two-on-three, sometimes with fists. Whenever they could manage it, they picked a location with trees or ruins to use as obstacles. In Krestian March’s world, there was no such thing as an easy practice session. Dara would love him.

“You almost done over there?” Gull called. “I need my practice dummy.”

“Patience,” Kres said. “We’re still—”

Siv struck, barreling into Kres from his low guard position. He lifted the shorter man right off his feet and dropped him in the dirt. An instant later, he brought his blade to Kres’s throat.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.