Deepwoods - Honor Raconteur Page 0,28

the records and the guards’ somewhat hazy memories, the party had come through and traveled on the bridges on a fair weather day. They hadn’t looked distressed, preoccupied, or in any way worried about their journey. In fact, their attitudes and condition had been so completely normal that the guards couldn’t remember them at first, and it was only the unusual size of the party that struck a mental chord with them. Usually people that traveled were much smaller in number or a great deal larger, such as merchants and caravans.

Having only been able to confirm what the initial report said didn’t satisfy her, but at least Siobhan knew that whatever had happened hadn’t happened here.

They couldn’t leave for Quigg that day, as they wouldn’t have enough time to get over the bridges before the tide rose, so they had several hours to kill. That in mind, she led the men back to the inn and had everyone grab their weapons, announcing to the guild that since they had the time, they might as well spar with each other and get a feel for how their new member fought.

Wolf and Tran were all for this idea, and they quickly led the way up to the inn’s roof, which had a flat area open for guests to relax in. Gramms probably had some notion of turning this place into a garden, as he’d put flower pots and benches up here, but it was never used for relaxing. Not with her group, at least. In this overly crowded city, the rooftop had the only open space available for sparring that didn’t risk striking a wall.

With everyone gathered, she caught Beirly’s eye and motioned with her chin toward Hammon. Catching her drift, Beirly lifted a hand and waved Hammon down.

“Why don’t you and I spar first?” he invited with a wide smile behind his bushy red beard. “I’ve never fought against a weapon like yours before and I’m curious.”

“That’s fine,” Hammon agreed readily.

Siobhan leaned against the cold stone wall, safely on the sidelines, and watched with interest as Beirly and Hammon picked up their weapons and faced each other. She was very curious as to what Beirly would do, as he only had a long sword in his hand. In reality, the sword spear that Hammon used was one of the deadliest and most effective weapons in the known world. It combined two dangerous elements: it was essentially a short sword on the end of the spear. It gave its wielder incredible reach and range, effectively cutting the opponent’s offensive power in half. Of course, being able to wield something six feet long without accidentally slicing your own foot off brought its own challenges, but from the way Hammon carried that thing, he’d been well trained in it.

The only way to really face a sword spear was with a shield, which Beirly didn’t have. In truth, Wolf should be Hammon’s opponent as he normally fought with shield and longsword. But pitting Wolf against the scholar seemed totally unfair. The man was a demon when it came to fighting. Only Tran and Fei seemed to be able to fight toe-to-toe with him. Beirly, being no slouch when it came to fighting, seemed a fairer opponent for this testing of skills.

Hammon settled into a wide stance, both hands on the wood in a steady grip, eyes on Beirly. Beirly had both hands on his sword hilt as well, the tip of the blade circling ever so slightly as he eyed Hammon. For several seconds, both men sized each other up, weighing options and tactics.

Without warning, Beirly lunged forward, sword striking Hammon’s blade, attempting to knock it far to the side. Hammon didn’t try to force it back, just slid the blade abruptly down, robbing Beirly’s thrust of its force, before he reversed directions and snapped the blade back up. Beirly was forced to rapidly retreat or lose part of his beard.

“They do remember they’re not trying to hurt each other, right…?” Siobhan muttered anxiously under her breath. Maybe she should have insisted that they leave the weapons sheathed before doing this.

“They’re fine,” Tran assured her in a low tone. “They’ve got good control right now, and it’s obvious neither of them are fighting at full speed.”

Well, true, they were obviously holding back. But she knew from experience that these things could get out of control very quickly and neither man was wearing any sort of protective armor.

Thwarted, Beirly circled back and tried again. Hammon wasn’t

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