Page 46 of Laird of Steel
Perhaps it was a good thing she intended to lose.
“Fine,” she managed to choke out. She whisked herjianthrough the air, as if to cut the tension between them.
They raised their blades in a brief salute. Then they began circling, their gazes fixed, sizing up the competition. Neither attacked.
After several tense moments, someone in the crowd yelled, “Get on with it!”
Others joined in, calling out, goading them to action.
Finally Gellir made a light thrust forward.
She easily blocked the ineffectual feint and returned with a lazy strike of her own.
Dodging her blow was child’s play. He answered with a tap against her shoulder.
She deflected his blade with her targe and punched the shield slowly forward toward his face.
He ducked and thrust his sword from beneath the targe, not quite far enough to do any damage.
The crowd began to grumble. Merraid could see Gellir was intentionally holding back, afraid of hurting her.
Damn him. She was never going to lose this way. Not believably. She had to find a way to provoke him.
Throwing her shoulders back, she blew out a determined breath. “Is that all ye’ve got?” she scoffed. “I thought ye were the greatest warrior in the world!”
He didn’t take the bait. But she saw his jaw tense. “I haven’t yet begun.”
“What are ye waitin’ for?”
“Waiting for you to start.”
He meant it as an insult. But she was used to insults. Feiyan had taught her to weather slurs with calm composure.
They began circling again. This time, she took the offensive, advancing with a series of rapid diagonal slices. They were fast and showy, but light, not lethal. If any of them landed, there would be minimal damage.
He handily deflected them all and echoed her quip. “Is that allyou’vegot?”
Merraid chuckled. This was going to take longer than she expected. “Hardly.”
He came at her almost before she could finish the word. Not with his sword, but with unexpected punches of his targe. He moved from right to left, back and forth, forcing her to retreat.
He might have ultimately pinned her against the fence. But she ducked under the last blow and rolled forward. When she came up, her sword was aimed at his unprotected side.
Resisting her natural stabbing instincts, she pretended to trip and stumbled onto her knees.
Somehow, he tripped over her. In the next moment, he fell onto his back.
The onlookers hooted in disapproval. No one liked to watch a pair of clumsy combatants.
Merraid swore under her breath. She’d hoped to make this a quick battle. The longer it took, the bigger the audience would be. She still intended to let Gellir win. But she didn’t want the entire clan to see her lose. She most especially didn’t want Lady Feiyan to witness her defeat and disgrace.
Gellir muttered a curse. Damn the lass. What was taking so long? He’d fought Merraid before. She was a competent warrior. She could have gotten the best of him several times now. Yet she’d tripped over her own feet, obliging him to commit his own blunder lest he put her at a disadvantage.
Losing intentionally was turning out to be far more difficult than winning.
He’d have to rile her up somehow. Goad her into more aggressive action that would make her victory believable.
He popped up to his feet and offered his hand to her.
