The Blade Itself
““That’s a touch!” shouted Marshal Varuz, “A definite touch! Well fought, Jezal, well fought!”West was starting to tire of losing. He was stronger than Jezal, and taller, with a better reach, but the cocky little bastard was quick. Damn quick, and getting quicker. He knew all of West’s tricks now, more or less, and if he kept improving at this rate he’d soon be beating him every time. Jezal knew it too. He had a smile of infuriating smugness on his face as he offered his hand to West and helped ...him up from the ground.“We’re getting somewhere now!” Varuz slapped his stick against his leg in delight. “We may even have ourselves a champion, eh, Major?”“Very likely, sir,” said West, rubbing at his elbow, bruised and throbbing from his fall. He looked sidelong at Jezal, basking in the warmth of the Marshal’s praise.“But we must not grow complacent!”“No, sir!” said Jezal emphatically.“No indeed,” said Varuz, “Major West is a capable fencer, of course, and you are privileged to have him as a partner but, well,”MoreLess
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