excerpt for #LineByLineTime : “Competition”

“How does it feel?” the General asked.

Edward swung the sword gently. “Like an extension of my arm. The balance is perfect.”

Whether it was the cadet’s expressions, their gasps, or the whistle of splitting air behind him, he spun around and met the Warlord’s attack with his blade. The Warlord gave him no time to do anything but defend himself. He barely noticed the cadets moving to the sides of the spacious room.

The two men moved lightly across the floor, the only noise the crashing of the two great swords meeting in midair as they dueled.

“Enough dancing!” the General barked. “Fight like you mean it!”

They didn’t look around but proved they heard her by switching to a two-handed grip on their hilts and slamming the blades together with a power that made objects in the room shudder. Several cadets had their hands across their mouths, terrified of distracting the men with their cries.

“This is why I appointed Edward as an instructor in swordsmanship instead of just a student. He would kill any of you just by sheer reflex,” the General stated.

“What – what about Betsy? Why make her an instructor?” Marissa stammered.

Betsy grinned at the men. “The Warlord likes to use a short blade sometimes. It doesn’t make us equal, but it helps.”

Benedict stared at her, then switched his gaze quickly back to the duel. “You spar with the Warlord?” His deep voice almost squeaked.

Betsy nodded. “And the General, and the Royal Guard. Anyone, really, who is willing to meet me. It helps keep me sharp on assorted styles of fighting and different weapons.”

The contest continued until sweat poured off the two men and their blows slowed, without losing much power as they impacted each other.

Finally, the General bellowed, “HOLD!” and the two froze, their swords stopping just before crashing together once more. The sword points dipped to rest on the floor. The men’s chests heaved. The cadets’ mouths dropped open in shock as the duellists grinned and gripped each other’s forearm in a warrior’s clasp.

The Warlord dipped his head to Edward. “My thanks for not holding back. It’s rare to have anyone besides the General and Betsy to give me an honest workout, and they are both too short to allow me to use my broadsword the way I prefer.” He ignored the General’s rude noise.

Edward straightened his shoulders and saluted. “It would be a dishonor to give you anything but my best.”

The Warlord thumped the younger man’s shoulder. “It’s clear to see how you have survived ten years on the front lines.”