wielder and raised his axe to bring it down in a swing that would take off the warrior’s arm and shoulder.
Startled by the suddenness of Haft’s attack, the huge man hopped back and stumbled over one of the packed people at the edge of the narrow aisle he was in. But he recovered his balance and didn’t fall. He swung his club defensively, to parry Haft’s next swing, and clipped a woman, one of the people scrambling to get out of the way of the fight that had suddenly broken out in their midst. She screamed from the pain of a shattered arm and fell to her knees, cradling the broken limb. Others reached for her and pulled her to safety.
The warrior took advantage of the brief confusion, thinking that it would distract Haft long enough for him to strike his own blow. He swung a roundhouse at Haft’s head. Haft felt the wind of the club’s passing as he ducked under the swing. He stepped forward as he ducked, and thrust his axe at Liskar, to drive the top point of the blade into a vital spot in Liskar’s lower belly. But he had faster reflexes than Haft expected in such a big man, and managed to pull himself out of the way. Haft hadn’t fully extended himself in the thrust, so he didn’t over-balance when his axe failed to meet the resistance of flesh. Which meant he was able to fall to the side and roll away when Liskar brought his club crashing down through the space Haft had just occupied. Haft rolled to his feet and slashed at Liskar’s thigh, but the big man jerked his leg out of the way of Haft’s wicked blade.
Haft took a couple of quick steps back to consider the situation. A passage from Lord Gunny Says flashed through his mind. There’s no such thing as a fair fight, somebody always has the advantage. If that’s not you, it’s up to you to find the equalizer.
Haft had to peddle backward, parrying a flurry of swings from Liskar. He finally ended Liskar’s flurry by stepping forward and ducking under a swing to get behind him. He slashed as he went, and was gratified to hear a grunt from the big man that accompanied the resistance his blade met—he’d finally hit Liskar.
That was when Haft remembered something Sergeant Rammer had told him when he was the greenest boot on the Sea Horse , “If you’re ever in a fight with a man a lot bigger than you, get in close, inside his swing. That’ll make it harder for him to hit you with any force. And a sword won’t bite as deep.”
And a club can’t hit as hard, either, Haft thought.
He twisted about, using the swing of his axe as a counter balance to arrest his forward motion—and found Liskar already turned and facing him, swinging his club in an arc that would have pulverized Haft’s head if he’d continued moving forward. Instead of winning the fight with that blow, Liskar staggered off balance and almost toppled, bearing Haft to the ground underneath himself. But Haft sidestepped, and Liskar managed to stay vertical. He stepped back and swung his club at the same time. But Haft stepped forward, keeping his chest so close to Liskar’s belly it was almost in contact.
Now Liskar had to swing his club in a tight downward arc to reach Haft, and the club didn’t have the same force as it would have had if Haft hadn’t been in so close. Haft reached his left hand up and grasped the collar of Liskar’s leather tunic, holding tightly enough to keep the big man from backing away from him.
Liskar bellowed, and used his free hand to try to pry Haft off. But Haft held on too tightly to be budged, even though Liskar managed to slam his club into Haft’s back a couple of times—but it was the shaft of the club, not its head that hit, and it didn’t have the bone crushing force a full swing would have had.
Haft shifted his grip on his axe, sliding his hand up the haft almost to the poll, where the metal of the head wrapped
Startled by the suddenness of Haft’s attack, the huge man hopped back and stumbled over one of the packed people at the edge of the narrow aisle he was in. But he recovered his balance and didn’t fall. He swung his club defensively, to parry Haft’s next swing, and clipped a woman, one of the people scrambling to get out of the way of the fight that had suddenly broken out in their midst. She screamed from the pain of a shattered arm and fell to her knees, cradling the broken limb. Others reached for her and pulled her to safety.
The warrior took advantage of the brief confusion, thinking that it would distract Haft long enough for him to strike his own blow. He swung a roundhouse at Haft’s head. Haft felt the wind of the club’s passing as he ducked under the swing. He stepped forward as he ducked, and thrust his axe at Liskar, to drive the top point of the blade into a vital spot in Liskar’s lower belly. But he had faster reflexes than Haft expected in such a big man, and managed to pull himself out of the way. Haft hadn’t fully extended himself in the thrust, so he didn’t over-balance when his axe failed to meet the resistance of flesh. Which meant he was able to fall to the side and roll away when Liskar brought his club crashing down through the space Haft had just occupied. Haft rolled to his feet and slashed at Liskar’s thigh, but the big man jerked his leg out of the way of Haft’s wicked blade.
Haft took a couple of quick steps back to consider the situation. A passage from Lord Gunny Says flashed through his mind. There’s no such thing as a fair fight, somebody always has the advantage. If that’s not you, it’s up to you to find the equalizer.
Haft had to peddle backward, parrying a flurry of swings from Liskar. He finally ended Liskar’s flurry by stepping forward and ducking under a swing to get behind him. He slashed as he went, and was gratified to hear a grunt from the big man that accompanied the resistance his blade met—he’d finally hit Liskar.
That was when Haft remembered something Sergeant Rammer had told him when he was the greenest boot on the Sea Horse , “If you’re ever in a fight with a man a lot bigger than you, get in close, inside his swing. That’ll make it harder for him to hit you with any force. And a sword won’t bite as deep.”
And a club can’t hit as hard, either, Haft thought.
He twisted about, using the swing of his axe as a counter balance to arrest his forward motion—and found Liskar already turned and facing him, swinging his club in an arc that would have pulverized Haft’s head if he’d continued moving forward. Instead of winning the fight with that blow, Liskar staggered off balance and almost toppled, bearing Haft to the ground underneath himself. But Haft sidestepped, and Liskar managed to stay vertical. He stepped back and swung his club at the same time. But Haft stepped forward, keeping his chest so close to Liskar’s belly it was almost in contact.
Now Liskar had to swing his club in a tight downward arc to reach Haft, and the club didn’t have the same force as it would have had if Haft hadn’t been in so close. Haft reached his left hand up and grasped the collar of Liskar’s leather tunic, holding tightly enough to keep the big man from backing away from him.
Liskar bellowed, and used his free hand to try to pry Haft off. But Haft held on too tightly to be budged, even though Liskar managed to slam his club into Haft’s back a couple of times—but it was the shaft of the club, not its head that hit, and it didn’t have the bone crushing force a full swing would have had.
Haft shifted his grip on his axe, sliding his hand up the haft almost to the poll, where the metal of the head wrapped
Similar Books
