Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [98]
He turned back to face the crowd. “If the Kai Priestess can break the rules, so can I! This will not be a fight between children. It will be a fight between men! A fight to the death!”
He looked over at Norgaard. “Do you agree to this, Chief of the Torgun?”
Norgaard opened his mouth, but it was Skylan who answered with a resounding and defiant, “I agree!”
Horg walked back to his place and was bending down to pick up his shield when a sharp pain jabbed him in the belly.
He grimaced and rubbed his stomach. Damn it, this was not the time for indigestion!
CHAPTER
8
Ages hence, whenever famous battles between champions were mentioned, a Vindrasi elder would say with a smile and a nod, “Ah, you can talk about Thorgunnd and Krega all you want. But I was witness to the fight between Horg and Skylan!”
At which the youngsters would regard the old man with envy and clamor to hear the tale.
The fight was later celebrated in song by Balin, Talgogroth and bard, and it became his most famous work. Long, long years after his death, bards still sang it whenever Vindrasi warriors gathered.
The song began: “Skylan, the bright-haired, his bright blood flowing, his bright sword kissed by Aylis . . .” and went on to describe the fight against Horg, whom the poet deemed: “the god-cursed, a coward who was never more brave than when all bravery was futile.” The song described every stroke and parry, every hit scored and thrust narrowly avoided. Indeed, the song was longer than the battle, which itself was relatively short.
And the song got the ending wrong. In this, one must not blame the bard. For Balin did not know the truth.
At that time, only two knew what really happened.
And one of them was dead.
Skylan advanced on Horg, watchful and wary. Too late, he had come to respect Horg—if not as a man, then at least as a warrior. Skylan had learned a bitter lesson. But for the judgment of Torval, Skylan would be back on board the dragonship at this very moment, sailing homeward in shame and humiliation. He meant to justify Torval’s belief in him.
He watched Horg’s every move, remembering belatedly to watch Horg’s feet as well as his eyes, for Norgaard had taught his son that a man’s eyes could lie, but his feet could not. Horg had to shift his weight in order to put force behind his strike, and by watching his feet, Skylan might be able to anticipate his move, create an opportunity.
Garn had bound up the wound on his leg. Skylan shoved the pain to the back of his mind. Such a wound was nothing. He had seen men fight in the shield-wall with far worse wounds, with eyeballs hanging out of their sockets or missing limbs.
“Time is on your side,” said Norgaard. “Wear him out.”
Larger and heavier, Horg would tire more quickly. Skylan was lighter, more agile, and younger. He did not do what he longed to do—rush to end this swiftly. He took his father’s advice, prolonging the fight, drawing it out, waiting for Horg to tire.
Skylan dodged and lunged, jumped forward and fell back, striking with snakelike swiftness at Horg from all directions, keeping him confused and off balance, making him increasingly angry and frustrated. All the while Skylan waited and watched for his foe to make a mistake.
Horg landed his own hits, and they were devastating. His axe splintered Skylan’s second shield with a blow so powerful that Skylan’s arm went numb and he feared it was broken. He was forced to scramble backwards, retreat to his own side, not daring to take his eyes off Horg, who pursued him with his axe. That would have been the end of the song and of Skylan had not Garn risked his own life, jumping into the ring to hand Skylan his last shield.
Horg took a furious swipe at Garn, who was forced to dive to the ground, falling flat on his face to avoid being decapitated. At this, Horg’s shield-bearer, Rulf, leaped into the ring, prepared to take on Garn. An angry reproof from the Kai Priestess sent both men back to their respective