| Subject: Friendly combat |
Author:
Keth
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Date Posted: 15:04:44 06/16/02 Sun
Keth was bored. With the coming of winter, he could no longer ride as often as he wished, nor, when rain beat down on the ground and icy winds penetrated even the warmest clothing, could the men train easily. He disliked the period of activity while trees slept and animals hibernated almost as much as many men welcomed it.
Today though, the weather was fine, and warriors had gathered about the lists, searching to banish the chill caused by enforced idleness from their muscles. His own body already tingling in the cold from the warmth generated by a series of gruelling exercises and warm-ups, he re-attached the sheath housing his long-sword to his waist and strolled over to join the cluster watching Merriam battle Daim. It was already clear that Daim was going to lose- Merriam was older, more experienced and stronger- but at the moment, both were going strong.
...Merrian’s blunted sword swept down in a twisted cut, to be met with a crash by Daim’s hanging guard parry, followed by a sharp riposte. Merriam had to swing his blade round quickly to meet the strike, catching him off guard. In a flash, Daim’s weapon twisted, changing direction into an upper cut that narrowly missed his opponent’s hooked nose. Unmet by any sword, the momentum of the attack continued propelling the blade forwards. In that moment that Daim overreached himself, Merriam executed a crisp crosscut, catching the weapon just under the hilt, and sending it spinning to the ground.
“And the victory goes to Merriam!” bellowed Sircyn, who was presiding over the match, from the sidelines. Grinning, Merriam raised one arm in salute, before clasping hands with his vanquished combatant.
“Any more takers to battle the current champion?”
“I'll have a go!” called Keth, grinning broadly and feeling his blood rise at the suggestion of a battle, an escape from his current boredom.”
“Merriam do you accept the challenger?”
“I do.”
“Keth, you know the rules. Blunted weapons, and you wear padding. You’re fighting to disarm only. Do you understand that this time?”
He grinned ruefully, remembering his last fight, when the battle-rage had been too strong in him, and he’d continued to the point of drawing blood. “Yes.”
He strapped on the protective gear and climbed into the arena, accepting the blunted sword from a chastened Daim.
“Will the combatants assume the guard position!”
Winking at Merriam, Keth turned his body side on, knees slightly bent and sword raised. At Sircyn’s command, both men swung round, their swords meeting with a resounding crash…
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