The savage before him was taller than Lenardo and muscled like a bull-pure fighting machine. His swordplay was not skillful-he was trying to hack his way in on strength alone, butting with his shield as much as cutting with his sword. Against such tactics Lenardo's Reading was not nearly as much of an advantage as against technique.
The enemy warrior had forced his way to a position where he was buttressed behind his shield, his longer reach keeping Lenardo at bay, although the Reader was determined he should not get through the passage.
I should learn to use one of those shields, Lenardo thought, the weariness in his sword arm making him long for the lighter, swifter blade the bandits had stolen. And but for that one skirmish with Helmuth's men, he was a month out of practice. It was telling badly. How often I drilled into my students the importance of daily practice!
Forced back step by step, Lenardo finally reached the narrowest part of the short passage, too narrow for his opponent to get through without turning sideways, his sword arm unshielded. Quickly Lenardo engaged, swords sliding along one another until the crossguards met He could not hold thus against the other's brute strength but had no intention to. He held long enough, he hoped, then let his arm fall as if all the strength were gone from it, gasping in feigned dismay.
The savage raised his sword to slash down on Lenardo, but the Reader swiftly brought his blade up beneath the man's arm, the warrior's own strength slicing through flesh, cutting to the bone, impaling his forearm on Lenardo's sword.
With a roar like a wounded bull, the savage warrior swung his injured arm, spraying blood, so swiftly that Lenardo was thrown off balance, forced to let go of his sword, which, caught between the bones of the man's arm, was flung with such fury against the rock wall that the blade shattered.
Disarmed, unshielded, Lenardo faced the wounded giant. Berserk with rage, the man did not know his life was spurting away through the severed arteries in his sword arm. When that arm would not obey him, although its fingers remained tightly clasped about his sword. He charged Lenardo with his shield, knocking the Reader back behind Aradia's limp form.
Even as he fell, Lenardo was twisting to scramble up, breathless, leaping at the savage giant as he stood over Aradia, raising his shield to smash her face. Lenardo threw his whole weight at the man's knees and was kicked off. As he picked himself up to charge again, he saw that the giant had abandoned his shield and was clumsily transferring his sword to his left hand. Loss of blood was beginning to tell, but he was determined to kill Aradia before he died. Other men were coming through the unguarded passage. It was hopeless-but Lenardo nonetheless flung himself upon the savage warrior, trying to wrest the sword from his fumbling fingers, succeeding only in making nun drop it.
Lenardo dived on the sword, rolled, lifted the weapon, and with both hands awkwardly thrust it at the lurching giant. The savage tried to swerve, stumbled, and fell on the blade. Lenardo thrust the heavy body off him and scrambled to his feet to face the oncoming savages. Pulling the sword from the giant's body, he found it so heavy that he needed both hands to wield it. Five men were grouped before him, weapons at the ready. If Aradia did not wake now, there was no chance. But he would take some of them with him as he went to his own death.
"Aradia!" he shouted, Reading that she was deep in healing sleep. Not daring to let go the sword, he nudged her with his foot. "Aradia-wake up!"
The world exploded.
Lenardo was thrown head over heels, the explosion deafening him as he hit solid rock and collapsed, feeling the sharp pain of broken ribs. Unable to move, he Read the scene: Aradia groggily awake, what little strength the short sleep had restored spent in that defensive burst of energy; the five attackers sprawled as Lenardo was-but three of them already stirring. The other two were dead, one from having hit his head against the rock wall, the other gruesomely spilling his guts across the ground, his belly cut open by his own sword.
But the others were merely stunned, and they knew enough of Adepts to see that they still had a chance at Aradia. She could not even sit up-Lenardo Read clearly how hard she was trying.
One of the three climbed to his feet but fell back with a yelp of pain, nursing a broken ankle. The other two found their fallen weapons and advanced on the helpless Adept. Despite his pain, Lenardo bent for his sword and staggered toward the foe, dragging his weapon, then leaning on it as he faced them across Aradia's body. Weakly, she whispered, "I can't help you, Lenardo. Thank you… for trying…" and fell back into unconsciousness.
The two savages had the strength to raise their weapons. Lenardo tugged at his, but with the pain of broken ribs he could do no more than drag the tip along the ground. He struggled to stand between them and Aradia, waiting for an ignominious death.
Suddenly the two men before Lenardo burst into flame! He lurched back, coming up against Aradia, realizing she had not done it-and without turning he Read Wulfston half running, half sliding down the steep rock face from above them. The searing pain and agonized screams of the two burning men cut off as they died, and Lenardo managed to gasp, "It's about time you got here!" as he collapsed into Wulfston's arms.
When Lenardo woke, his pain was gone, and he realized that what had wakened him was Wulfston's touch on his forehead. "Don't move!" the young Adept warned. "I haven't healed you, just stopped the pain. Is Aradia injured or just exhausted?"
"Exhausted," Lenardo replied.
"Yes-she must have used her last strength in that bolt to tell me where you were. We're safe for the moment. Our own troops are defending the entrance, and only an Adept could come up and over as I did. How badly are you hurt?"
Lenardo quickly Read 4us own injuries. "Dozens of bruises, some strained muscles, and three broken ribs."
"Show me."
Again Lenardo felt the healing heat as Wulfston's hands moved over his body. At his direction, the "ribs were brought back into place and given strength to hold so he could move. "I can't let you sleep," Wulfston apologized. -"Aradia must-I suppose she dared spend the last of her energy because she knew I was coming."
"She didn't know. It was my fault. I wasn't Reading beyond right here, trying to fight off those savages. When I was outnumbered I tried to wake her-and forgot how. I'm afraid I… kicked her."
"And you quickly learned why there is only one safe way to wake an Adept!" Wulfston gave a humorless laugh. "Fortunately, she didn't have the strength to kill you, and so the blow probably saved your life by telling me where you were. Do you think you can walk now? I need you to Read the battle for me."
"We can't just leave Aradia here!"
"Our own men are guarding the passage now. She'll regain enough strength in an hour or two of sleep to get along until we can all rest safely."
Once Wulfston, under Lenardo's guidance, joined the battle from this side of the valley, with Lilith and her troops moving in from the other side, the fighting was soon over. Then Wulfston and Lilith directed Helmuth to take the rest of their army and proceed into Drakonius' lands- Aradia's lands now, by the law of the savages, for as long as she could hold them.
By this time, Wulfston was able to waken Aradia with a proper touch on the forehead. She smiled sleepily at him. "Wulfston… my brother. You did come." Then panic filled her eyes as memory returned. "Lenardo!"
"I'm here," he said quickly. "Wulfston arrived just in time to save us both."
"But I owe you my life several times over," she said. "Both of you. Wulfston, you should have seen Lenardo fighting Drakonius' men-he certainly told the truth when he said he could use a sword!"