Lynan tried the same maneuver, but Dejanus foiled it simply by stepping back as he brought his sword across. Lynan lunged, but his point was short of the target by a finger’s length. His opponent overreached, Dejanus quickly took one step forward and lunged in return. Lynan knew he was in trouble halfway through his attack, and brought his sword down and perpendicular to the line of his body, catching Dejanus’ thrust just in time. He brought his sword up, forcing Dejanus’ weapon across from his right to his left and lunged a second time. Dejanus parried easily by copying Lynan’s tactic, and the two blades slid against each other. Both men stood erect and each retreated a step, their weapons held out in guard, their tips touching ever so lightly. Lynan tapped, Dejanus held steady. Dejanus feinted to Lynan’s right, but the prince moved his sword only enough to parry it. They carefully watched each other’s eyes, not the weapons. Lynan smiled slightly, Dejanus responded. Lynan stamped his foot, lunged, but kept his blade in guard. Dejanus hastily retreated a step and parried the strike that never came. Lynan used his back leg to send him into a second lunge and this time sent his point in to the padding over Dejanus’ heart.
“Kill!” Kumul shouted.
Dejanus slung his sword under his arm so its hilt was showing to the prince. “Excellent point, your Highness.”
“Don’t feed his pride,” Kumul said lightly, but he, too, had been impressed by the maneuver. It was not one he had taught the prince.
Dejanus laughed and held out his left hand. Lynan took it and thanked him for the exercise. “You are at the point now when you could take on the constable himself.”
Lynan blushed. Coming from such an experienced swordsman as Dejanus, it was high praise indeed.
“That would be an interesting bout,” said Ager, entering the stalls. The crookback, who was now a captain in the Royal Guards and spent his days training the troops, often watched the young royals at their own training, which was still personally supervised by Kumul. He paid special attention to Lynan.
“Even more interesting would be a bout between you and the prince,” Kumul said to Ager.
“Now that would be something to see!” Dejanus declared. He had trained several times with Ager and had learned to respect the crookback’s fighting skills. Since joining the Royal Guards, he had seemed to grow in stature. Partly that was due to the better diet combined with the real exercise he now enjoyed while training recruits, the latter something the crookback would have found impossible before Usharna had worked her magic on his wounds. Mostly, though, it was his renewed pride that most changed him and his appearance. His hair was close-cropped to a gray fuzz and his manner had become more confident. Ager Parmer was a new man.
“I’m willing to try my hand against the captain,” Lynan said, eager to show off his skills to Ager.
Ager glanced at Kumul, who nodded back. “Very well. But my choice of weapons.”
“Of course,” Lynan agreed readily, confident after his win against Dejanus.
Ager went to a basket of blades standing in one corner. He withdrew a short sword and hefted it for weight. Lynan groaned inside. The short sword was one weapon he did not enjoy using, and his skill with it did not match his skill with the long sword or knife, or even the bow.
Ager saw Lynan’s expression. “Don’t worry, your Highness. You can keep your longer blade.”
Lynan blinked in astonishment. “But I outreach you already, Ager.”
The crookback smiled at Lynan, cutting air with his sword. “I worked my way up the ranks of the Kendra Spears, Your Highness. I became captain through years of hard work and surviving battles.” His eye seemed to look far away, seeing memories. “What hard work and how did I survive so many battles?” he asked rhetorically.
Lynan shook his head.
“One of the first things I learned as a new soldier in the queen’s employ all those many years ago is that a spearman without a spear is as useful as a prick without a bladder. Unless, of course, the spearman actually knows how to use the short sword he is issued with. All us recruits trained with it but barely enough to know which end to grasp. But I really trained with it. I practiced every day until I knew the weapon like my own mother, God bless her gentle ghost, and it saved my life on more than a dozen occasions. I reckon I use the short sword with more skill than anyone I have ever met. Indeed, I reckon I use it with more skill than you use your long sword.”
Ager took up the ready position.
“What about padding?” Lynan asked.
“None fits me,” Ager answered. “And I’ll not need any.”
Lynan shrugged and raised the point of his sword. He took a step forward and made half an effort to thrust, afraid of hurting his opponent. Ager suddenly leaped forward, and the next thing Lynan knew he was on his back with the tip of Ager’s short sword resting over his heart. He heard Kumul and Dejanus laughing.
“Foolish move, your Highness,” Ager said. “Take advantage of your reach if you’ve a long sword. Don’t approach any closer than you have to.” He put out a hand and helped the prince to his feet. “Let’s try that again.”
Lynan, still with the breath knocked out of him, retreated a few steps and went to guard. Ager stood back, seeming to consider his position. “Well?” Lynan urged.
“Well what, your Highness? You don’t think I’m going to come at you with that bloody great thing pointing at me, do you?”
“But you told me to take advantage of my reach…”
“True, but now you’re so far away you could use a bow. I thought you knew how to use that thing.”
Embarrassment and anger made Lynan blush. “Right,” he said determinedly, and carefully edged forward three steps, holding his sword in front of him.
“Right,” Ager said, and took three steps back.
“Oh, this is ridiculous!” Lynan cried, turning to Kumul in appeal. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the crookback move faster than he would have believed possible. Before he could do anything, he was on his back again, the tip of the short sword once more resting over his heart.
“You’re used to fencing with those who follow the same rules as you, your Highness,” Ager said. “But those rules don’t apply in a real battle.”
Lynan scrambled to his feet. “Again!” he ordered fiercely, and attacked before Ager was ready, forcing him back at the very first. Lynan’s attack was furious, but Ager had the skill to deflect every strike and blow. Nevertheless, the crookback gave ground until his back was against a wall and he could retreat no farther. Lynan redoubled his efforts, again and again almost finding an opening for his point. Though Ager kept up with him at first, eventually he started to tire.
“Your Highness!” Kumul called. “Enough!”
Lynan felt as if cold water had been poured over him. He dropped his point and stood back, his face white as a sheet. “Ager… I… I…”
Ager was actually grinning. “Don’t apologize. I as good as told you not to play by the rules. I’ve rarely met an attack with such ferocity behind it.”
Lynan nodded numbly. That his anger had so overwhelmed him made him feel nauseous. “Nevertheless, Kumul has always told me never to lose control of my emotions in a fight.”
Ager nodded, glanced at Kumul. “Good advice, but sometimes—just sometimes—it pays to forget that rule as well.” He returned his short sword to the basket and asked to see Lynan’s. Lynan handed it over, and Ager inspected it carefully. “I thought I’d seen this blade before. Most wonderful work.” Ager handed it back.
“It is all my father left me,” Lynan said simply.
“You are very skilled with it.”
“It is the only skill at the prince’s command,” Kumul said. “He has no time for any study except that of killing and war.”
Lynan looked offended. “I am fair at geography.”