Crimson Shadow, The - R. A. Salvatore Page 0,8

free arm around the young fighter and driving his knee hard into Luthien’s thigh. Luthien stumbled past, and Rogar would have had him, except that the young man was quick enough and wise enough to slice across with his sword, nicking his opponent’s knee and stopping the charging giant short.

They squared up again and rushed right back in, fighting for pride and for the love of competition. Sword and spear crossed and parried; Luthien’s shield rushes were countered by Rogar’s punching fist.

Gahris had never seen his son, and especially Garth Rogar, fight better, and he was positively beaming with pride, for both Wilmon and Aubrey were fully entranced by the action, shouting out cheers for every cunning counter or last-second parry. The men could not match the squeals of Avonese and Elenia, though, as each cheered her champion on. These two were not as familiar with fighting styles as the others and many times thought the fight to be at its end, thinking that one or the other had gained an insurmountable advantage.

But these two fighters were well matched and well trained. Always the appropriate defenses were in place, always the men were balanced.

Garth Rogar started with a spear thrust, but as Luthien’s sword parried, the barbarian unexpectedly heaved his weapon up high, taking Luthien’s sword with it. Following his own building momentum, Garth lifted a foot for a well-aimed kick, slamming Luthien in the midsection and doubling him over, gasping for breath.

Luthien’s shield came up at the last moment to stop the spear’s butt end, aimed for his head, but he took another kick, this one on the hip, and went scrambling away.

“Oh, good!” cried Elenia, and only then did Gahris notice the scowl Avonese threw the younger woman’s way, and he began to understand that there might be serious trouble brewing.

Sensing the advantage, Garth Rogar roared in, hurling himself at his winded opponent.

Luthien’s shield took the spear up high, Luthien ducking underneath and snapping a quick sword cut into the barbarian’s lead hand. The mailed gauntlet allowed Garth Rogar to keep his fingers, but he howled anyway for the pain and let go with that hand.

Now Luthien pressed forward, keeping his shield in line as he charged so that Garth could not retract his spear for any parries. His sword cut in from the side, pounding hard against the barbarian’s leather bandolier. Garth Rogar winced, but kept his focus, and as Luthien brought the sword back out, then reversed it for a second cut, Garth caught the blade in his mailed fist.

Luthien pressed forward, and Garth got his feet under him enough to press back—just as Luthien had anticipated. Suddenly, the young Bedwyr stopped and backpedaled, and Garth found himself overbalanced. Luthien fell into a backward roll and planted his feet in the barbarian’s belly as Garth tumbled over him.

“Oh, send him flying away!” screamed Avonese, and Luthien did just that, pushing out with both feet so that Garth Rogar did a half somersault, landing heavily on his back.

Both men were up in an instant, weapons in hand, eyeing each other with sincere respect. They were weary and bruised, and both knew that they would be wickedly sore the next day, but this was competition at its finest and neither cared.

Across from Gahris, it was Elenia’s eyes that were now throwing darts. “Crush him!” she cried out to Garth Rogar, so loudly that her call temporarily halted all the other cheering in the arena, and all eyes, Luthien’s and Garth Rogar’s included, turned to her.

“It would seem that you have made a friend,” Luthien said to the barbarian.

Garth Rogar nearly burst out laughing. “And I would not want to disappoint her!” he said suddenly, and on he came, thrusting his spear. He pulled it up short and whipped it about instead, its butt end ringing loudly off of Luthien’s shield. Luthien countered with a straight cut, but the barbarian was out of range. A second spear thrust slipped over Luthien’s shield and nearly took his eye out, nicking his helm as he ducked, and the butt end whipped about again, banging both shield and Luthien’s back.

That hit stung, but Luthien ignored it, understanding that he had to go to the offensive or be buried under the powerful man’s attacks. He started to run with the momentum of the spear, then ducked under it and pivoted about, coming up under Garth’s swinging arm. The edge of Luthien’s shield hooked under the taller man’s armpit, lifting him off balance. Again,