time.
His vision cleared, and he saw Sir Guy leaping forward, fist swinging down in an overhand chop. Matt shot up his left. Pain exploded in his forearm, and a small rock bit his skull, bringing black back as the grass slipped from under his feet and, a second later, struck his shoulders. I've fallen, he realized, surprised, and rolled, fast. But no feet kicked at him, and his vision cleared as he flipped up to his knees. Sir Guy stood waiting, smiling, amused.
Now, that was a predicament-being halfway up and having a set of muscles on two feet waiting for him to get up the rest of the way. Matt was sorely tempted to hold it right there.
Then he caught sight of Alisande, out of the corner of his eye.
She stood, straining forward, huge-eyed and pale, staring at Matt with pain etched in her face. Somehow, he just couldn't quit outright, with her watching like that.
He levered himself to his feet. Sir Guy was on him, right swinging around and up in a haymaker uppercut. Matt finally placed his style-broadsword.
He'd also placed Sir Guy's strength-phenomenal. No use trying to block that swing; Sir Guy would just drive on through, knocking Matt's arm back against him again. He leaned back, letting the haymaker slice past him, fanning his face, while he remembered a cutting man's weak spot-the lunge. Sir Guy was used to chopping, not stabbing.
So, while Sir Guy's fist was following through on its swing, Matt jabbed-hard.
Sir Guy saw it coming and flipped up his arm, throwing Matt's punch higher than he'd aimed; he caught the knight on the cheekbone-and nearly howled. The man was hard! But Sir Guy's head rocked, and he looked surprised.
Then the fist that had just finished the uppercut chopped down, backhanded.
Matt leaped back, not quite in time; knuckles sizzled across his chest. But he knocked the hand further aside and stepped in, throwing a right straight from the shoulder.
And Sir Guy's left snapped up, knocking Matt's arm toward the sky.
It threw Matt off balance; he lurched forward and slammed into Sir Guy's shoulder. The knight gave under him, then steadied. Matt snatched a quick glance at his face; Sir Guy smiled, eyebrows raised. "We become too familiar, Lord Wizard."
"No, I'm just getting to know you." Matt shoved against the knight's bulk and leaped backward, fists up. He should have realized Sir Guy would block well with his left-he was used to a shield.
The knight followed after him, slashing back and forth with his right. Matt backpedaled, waiting, and timed it; then he dropped low in a crouch and jabbed at Sir Guy's belly. Sure enough, the left dropped down to block-and Matt swung up for the chin, from the hips.
His fist smashed against Sir Guy's jaw, and the knight's head snapped back. Matt recovered, snapping his body back into a tight fetal crouch-but Sir Guy kept on leaning back until he toppled over.
Matt froze in the crouch, staring at the slack, unconscious body in disbelief.
Then, slowly, he straightened up, lowering his fists-carefully; he still expected Sir Guy to roll to his feet and start swinging. But the Black Knight was out cold, and Matt finally let himself begin to believe it.
There was a rustle of cloth, and he heard Alisande's voice, as dumfounded as he was: "You have beaten him, Wizard!"
Matt stared at the supine body. "Thank Heaven for small favors!"
"Nay, thank thy skill," rumbled Stegoman, beside him. "Thou hast beaten a full-belted knight, Matthew Mantrell, by force of thine arms and skill of thy body!"
Matt turned slowly, frowning. "Well, , thanks-but I have a nasty suspicion I didn't."
"How so?" A trickle of smoke oozed from Stegoman's Jaws.
"I think I won by a decision."
"Thou hast laid him low! What decision's in that?"
"His," Matt said sourly.
Alisande was kneeling over Sir Guy, patting his cheek, chafing his
His vision cleared, and he saw Sir Guy leaping forward, fist swinging down in an overhand chop. Matt shot up his left. Pain exploded in his forearm, and a small rock bit his skull, bringing black back as the grass slipped from under his feet and, a second later, struck his shoulders. I've fallen, he realized, surprised, and rolled, fast. But no feet kicked at him, and his vision cleared as he flipped up to his knees. Sir Guy stood waiting, smiling, amused.
Now, that was a predicament-being halfway up and having a set of muscles on two feet waiting for him to get up the rest of the way. Matt was sorely tempted to hold it right there.
Then he caught sight of Alisande, out of the corner of his eye.
She stood, straining forward, huge-eyed and pale, staring at Matt with pain etched in her face. Somehow, he just couldn't quit outright, with her watching like that.
He levered himself to his feet. Sir Guy was on him, right swinging around and up in a haymaker uppercut. Matt finally placed his style-broadsword.
He'd also placed Sir Guy's strength-phenomenal. No use trying to block that swing; Sir Guy would just drive on through, knocking Matt's arm back against him again. He leaned back, letting the haymaker slice past him, fanning his face, while he remembered a cutting man's weak spot-the lunge. Sir Guy was used to chopping, not stabbing.
So, while Sir Guy's fist was following through on its swing, Matt jabbed-hard.
Sir Guy saw it coming and flipped up his arm, throwing Matt's punch higher than he'd aimed; he caught the knight on the cheekbone-and nearly howled. The man was hard! But Sir Guy's head rocked, and he looked surprised.
Then the fist that had just finished the uppercut chopped down, backhanded.
Matt leaped back, not quite in time; knuckles sizzled across his chest. But he knocked the hand further aside and stepped in, throwing a right straight from the shoulder.
And Sir Guy's left snapped up, knocking Matt's arm toward the sky.
It threw Matt off balance; he lurched forward and slammed into Sir Guy's shoulder. The knight gave under him, then steadied. Matt snatched a quick glance at his face; Sir Guy smiled, eyebrows raised. "We become too familiar, Lord Wizard."
"No, I'm just getting to know you." Matt shoved against the knight's bulk and leaped backward, fists up. He should have realized Sir Guy would block well with his left-he was used to a shield.
The knight followed after him, slashing back and forth with his right. Matt backpedaled, waiting, and timed it; then he dropped low in a crouch and jabbed at Sir Guy's belly. Sure enough, the left dropped down to block-and Matt swung up for the chin, from the hips.
His fist smashed against Sir Guy's jaw, and the knight's head snapped back. Matt recovered, snapping his body back into a tight fetal crouch-but Sir Guy kept on leaning back until he toppled over.
Matt froze in the crouch, staring at the slack, unconscious body in disbelief.
Then, slowly, he straightened up, lowering his fists-carefully; he still expected Sir Guy to roll to his feet and start swinging. But the Black Knight was out cold, and Matt finally let himself begin to believe it.
There was a rustle of cloth, and he heard Alisande's voice, as dumfounded as he was: "You have beaten him, Wizard!"
Matt stared at the supine body. "Thank Heaven for small favors!"
"Nay, thank thy skill," rumbled Stegoman, beside him. "Thou hast beaten a full-belted knight, Matthew Mantrell, by force of thine arms and skill of thy body!"
Matt turned slowly, frowning. "Well, , thanks-but I have a nasty suspicion I didn't."
"How so?" A trickle of smoke oozed from Stegoman's Jaws.
"I think I won by a decision."
"Thou hast laid him low! What decision's in that?"
"His," Matt said sourly.
Alisande was kneeling over Sir Guy, patting his cheek, chafing his
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