Read The Dread Wyrm (Traitor Son Cycle) for Free Online Page B

pulled out of an adversary’s range, standing straighter as he slipped the front foot back and covered his head with his sword
. Garda di testa
. Nell knew all the guards, now.
    Then he uncoiled like a viper striking and Toby got his sword up. But his slip wasn’t deep enough—he didn’t pull back his front foot enough. Still, he covered his head well, and he countered—the same cut.
    The captain pulled back his front foot and covered his head. And cut—
    Toby raised his sword without retreating.
    The captain’s sword moved so fast that it was like watching a hummingbird strike. It came to rest against Toby’s outthrust thigh.
    Ser Gabriel frowned. “You’re tired. We’ll call it for today, Toby. But you have to learn to move your legs.”
    Toby looked frustrated and angry.
    The captain’s eye caught Nell. “Good morning, young lady. How is my beautiful new horse?”
    “Eating, my lord,” Nell answered. “It’s all he does. He’ll need exercise today.”
    The captain smiled. “If I don’t get on him today, you take him tonight. Yes?”
    “Of course, my lord.”
    He looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Do you need something, Nell?”
    “No, my lord. But I need Toby, if he’s at leisure.” She hoped that Robin appreciated how well she was keeping her end of the bargain, because this was leading with her chin. The captain could be savage, especially early in the morning after he’d been drinking.
    Toby sheathed his arming sword after looking at the blade for nicks. “I’m with you, Nell,” he said.
    The captain made a sign that they could talk. He was examining his own blade, the new red-gripped arming sword that matched his long sword for war—gilt-steel guard and round pommel, and two newfangled finger rings on the guard.
    “What do you need?” Toby asked. He was breathing hard.
    “Robin needs you. He’s hard pressed for time and water got at Ser Michael’s armour.”
    “Sweet Jesu and all the saints!” Toby shook his head. “If a man will spend all night in the arms of a—” He looked at Nell. “I’ll go.”
    “Feel free to give him some shit,” Nell said. “But I promised to fetch you.” Whatever Toby lacked in fighting skills—he was late to the life of arms and a slow physical learner—he was the best metal polisher in the company.
    The captain had not sheathed his sword. “Nell—do I gather that you are at leisure?”
    Nell’s heart did a back-flip. “Er… yes?” she said.
    The captain nodded. “I don’t think I’ve paid enough attention to your training, lass. Have you been practising?”
    “Yes, my lord. Sword and poleaxe. Ser Bescanon and Ser Alison. And gymnastika with Ser Alcaeus and swimming with—” She flushed. “With the women.”
    The captain nodded. “You relieve my mind, Nell. But I know you took a wound in Morea and I have a mind to be a little more attentive to your life of arms. Draw.”
    She had her arming sword on her hip and she took her sword carefully from her scabbard.
    She was afraid of the captain at the best of times. She admired him, but he was older, bigger, and he had a temper. And his eyes glowed red when she made him angry or frustrated him.
    Standing across the grass from her, he was as tall as Ataelus and his sword seemed huge, but the worst of it was that his eyes weren’t red. They were reptilian.
    “I’m going to make some simple attacks,” he said. “Try not to die.” He smiled. “It would take me years to find another page as good as you.”
    That cheered her up.
    He struck.
    She’d gotten into a guard—Ser Alison said always do what you know, and she knew that she liked having her sword out in front of her. In a world where everyone was bigger, stronger and longer limbed than she, Nell had learned that basic centreline guards were for her.
    She flicked her blade into
frontale
, crossing the captain’s blade. His wrist was like iron, but she’d swaggered blades with Wilful Murder and Long Paw and even Ranald