warning a second before Lambert charged both of them. Aidan whirled both of them around. Anne felt the sword blade whisk right by her before Aidan pushed her to safety.
Major Lambert stumbled when he missed skewering one of them, but he pivoted, ready to attack again.
This time, Aidan was ready for him. He wrapped his jacket around his arm to use as a shield. His eyes glittered like shards of glass. “Come, Lambert. I accept the challenge.”
“To the death,” Lambert growled.
Aidan’s answer was to laugh, the sound bold and challenging.
Chapter 17
Aidan’s laughter enraged Major Lambert. He charged again. Aidan neatly side-stepped him.
Fang had helped Anne to her feet. She started forward, ready to intervene, but Fang’s grasp on her arm tightened.
“There is bad blood between them and has been for years,” Fang said. “You can’t stop it now, my lady.”
“But they’ll kill each other,” she protested.
“Aye, and a grand fight it will be.” Fang wasn’t the only one relishing the battle. His sons, neighbors, and even the women watched avidly. Anne wondered if the whole world had gone mad.
Hugh burst into the circle forming around the two combatants. “Your sword, Tiebauld!” He tossed the weapon in Aidan’s direction.
Lambert moved to intercept the sword, but Aidan was quicker. He caught it neatly in one hand and faced his opponent.
The major’s mood changed dramatically, now that Aidan was armed. The two men circled each other. “I remember you as an indifferent swordsman,” Lambert taunted. He jabbed out. Aidan feinted. Steel met steel. The sound grated against Anne’s strained nerves.
Lambert attacked, swiping the air viciously. He moved forward, each stride forcing Aidan backward.
“Come on, man,” Fang said under his breath. “Cut the bastard to ribbons.”
His words shocked Anne—and yet she too was frustrated. Aidan must not lose to Lambert.
Suddenly her husband parried. His sword ran along his opponent’s and the two men were upon each other where Aidan’s superior strength could be used to advantage. But the major jumped back, disengaging.
Aidan grinned. “Not so easy, is it?”
“Child’s play,” Lambert answered, but he breathed heavily. He thrust and the fight was on.
Anne had once witnessed a demonstration of swordplay performed by several gentlemen who touted the art of fencing as a skill. The fight between Aidan and the major held none of the structure or finesse dictated by the Manual of Arms. It was a battle of brutal strength and cunning. Lambert was obviously the more experienced swordsman, but Aidan’s natural athleticism gave him an advantage. However, Aidan had been without sleep. Anne prayed his strength would hold out.
They hacked away at each other, grunting at the exertion each time their swords clashed. Sweat beaded their brows. The air rang with the clang of vibrating metal.
Then Aidan stumbled over a loose stone in the courtyard. Losing his balance, he hit the ground heavily, becoming an easy target for his opponent. Lambert brought his arm down, the blade aimed at Aidan’s chest. The sharp-edged blade sliced the material of his shirt. Blood appeared. Lambert pulled back his arm to spear Aidan’s heart.
Again Anne had to be restrained lest she jump into the fray. She couldn’t bear to watch; she couldn’t turn away.
Aidan rolled an instant before the major’s sword point dived into the ground right where he’d been. Lambert’s sword tip got caught between the smooth cobbles. Before he could pull it out, Aidan whipped his sword around, and even at such an awkward angle, struck the major’s sword with so much force the handle went flying from Lambert’s hand. His sword flipped one end over the other to clatter on the courtyard stones.
Lambert held his hands out to show he was unarmed.
It was over. Aidan rose to his feet. “Satisfied?”
“No.” He nodded to indicate his sword.
To Anne’s astonishment, Aidan shrugged and let him pick it up. She searched the faces around her. Did anyone else think this a ridiculous form of generosity?
No, they were all involved in the battle.
Worse, Aidan read her mind. He gave her an apologetic smile before he was forced to pay attention to Lambert’s renewed attack.
For another quarter hour the men fought. They were both slowing down. Dueling was hard business.
Lambert’s sword whacked Aidan’s blade against the courtyard’s stone wall. To everyone’s surprise, the steel broke and Aidan found himself holding the hilt and little more than four inches of blade.
Aidan held out his arms as Lambert had done earlier to show he was unarmed, but instead of retreating the major lunged straight for Aidan’s chest. Her husband swore, dodging