Page 14 of Hers To Command
So, that was the way it was going to be. “Then perhaps you’ll let me watch and learn a trick or two.”
Cerdic sniffed. “Why? Thou and thy countrymen do not use axes.”
“I was taught to use any weapon that might be on a battlefield. Sir Leonard used to say a lance could be broken, a sword knocked away and a mace ripped from your grip, so the wise knight learns to fight with anything that might come to hand.”
A challenging gleam appeared in Cerdic’s storm-gray eyes. “I would see how a Norman fights with an ax.”
The blood quickened in Henry’s veins, as it always did when he was challenged. “It would be my pleasure. Shall we test each other here and now?”
The men muttered excitedly and Cerdic darted them a satisfied grin before addressing Henry again. “With these toys, or real axes?”
“Since I would rather not lose a limb, I’d prefer a club.” Henry was determined to beat Cerdic, but he wasn’t a fool. Accidents happened in practices, too, and it was obvious Cerdic didn’t like him.
Cerdic’s grin grew. “Very well, Norman. The toys.”
Cerdic nodded to the man he’d been about to fight. With a sneer and a few words Henry was sure were not compliments, the fellow handed his club to Henry.
Cerdic could call them toys if he liked, Henry thought as he tested the feel and weight of the club, but this thing could break bones.
As he swung his weapon back and forth, then up and around his head, he studied Cerdic out of the corner of his eye. He wouldn’t be easy to defeat. He was full of the confidence that came from skill, and he was one of the more well-muscled men Henry had ever seen. Although Henry didn’t believe Cerdic would kill or seriously wound a guest of the ladies of Ecclesford, he didn’t want to have to hobble about on a broken leg, or nurse a broken arm, either.
“Until the first man cries mercy?” Henry proposed.
His opponent nodded.
“Care to make a wager on who it will be?”
That brought another grin to Cerdic’s face. “Ten silver pennies ’twill be thee.”
“Done,” Henry said. He glanced at the other men. “Wonder who they’ll bet on?”
“Me to win, thee to lose,” Cerdic said in a low voice.
And then, with a blood-curdling cry, the man ran at Henry, swinging his club back and up and around, to bring it crashing down on Henry’s head—had Henry still been standing there. With lightning-fast reflexes honed by hours of practice, Henry deftly sidestepped the blow and shoved his shoulder against Cerdic, knocking him sideways.
Growling an oath, Cerdic righted himself and turned to see Henry holding his weapon with both hands, his body half-turned. Henry swung low, aiming for his calves.
Hissing like a snake, Cerdic leaped back, his arms wide with surprise. “Dog! Thou wouldst break my ankles?”
“You could have broken my head if your blow had landed. If this were an ax and I’d hit, you could have lost your feet.”
Scowling, Cerdic raised his weapon again and shuffled, by wary inches, closer to his opponent. Henry hesitated, not sure if he should try to strike low again, or knock the weapon from Cerdic’s hand.
That hesitation cost him, for Cerdic suddenly jumped forward, bringing his weapon straight down. Henry lunged to the left, nearly sprawling on the ground. He righted almost at once and managed to hit Cerdic’s club.
Cerdic struck back instantly, his club coming down on Henry’s. Shoving it off, Henry backed up a step or two, but the men watching had surrounded them, ringing them in, and he had less room to maneuver than he thought.
Whatever happened, he wasn’t going to give up. He was going to win and show these soldiers that he really did know how to fight with something other than a sword or mace or lance.
He would prove his skill and do Sir Leonard proud.
As fierce resolve coursed through his veins, he watched Cerdic like a hawk would a field mouse it wanted for its dinner and shouted at the men to give him room. They did, backing up a little, although they muttered in complaint as they did.
“I need no more room to defeat thee,” Cerdic said through clenched teeth, also keeping his gaze on Henry, no doubt seeking an opening, too. “Canst thou not fight in close quarters, Norman?”
“Aye, indeed, I can,” Henry replied, circling him in a crouch. “Very close.”
With that, and although he was right-handed, he swung his club from the left. As he’d expected, that caught Cerdic off guard and he was unprepared to defend a blow from that side. The club flew from his hand, striking an unfortunate fellow in the front row.
