Read Online Amber Treasure, The by Richard Denning - Free Book Online Page A

better.’
    Hussa was still in the melee,
moving lithely back and forth, dodging this way and that. His opponent was a
dull-looking man in his twenties, who looked confused and bewildered. He tried
to swing his sword down onto Hussa’s shoulders, but Hussa was too quick and was
already past him, then clouted him on the back.
    It was now Hussa’s turn to square
up against the old veteran, Grettir, in his semi-final match. It was a good
contest: wisdom and experience against youth and agility. In the end, Grettir,
tiring after the five previous bouts, was flagging a little despite his stamina
and Hussa, who still looked fresh, kept moving until Grettir made a tiny error
and paid for it. A good loser, Grettir slapped the boy on the back and smiled
before stomping off the field. Hussa stepped to the side to wait for his final
opponent, which was to be either Cuthwine or me.
    Cuthwine and I had trained together
many times over the last few months so, although he was more experienced than I
was, I knew most of his moves and was also slightly quicker. As a result, we
were well matched and exchanged thrust and counter thrust, parry and swing for
a full ten minutes, until we were both getting exhausted. In the end, I tried
to finish the fight by rushing him. It was a mistake and I felt my foot slip
from under me and I fell. Ironically, that is what saved me as I passed under
his attack. Somehow, as my arms flailed about wildly, my sword managed to
connect with his body. He just stood there, glared down at me and then shook
his head, not believing what had happened.
    “You lucky bastard!” he groaned
then reached down to pull me to my feet, whilst all around us the audience
howled with laughter. When I took my place for the final round, a rueful smile
was on my face.
    So, that left just me and Hussa.
Just one more fight, I told myself. Just one more win and the sword would be
mine. I glanced over at my parents. Father was talking to Aethelric and
pointing at me. He seemed to be avoiding looking at Hussa, but then I caught
him glance at him for a moment and in his eyes I saw, what: guilt, pain? I was
not sure.
    Then, I looked at my mother and a
chill shot down my spine. She was not looking at Cuthwine or me, but straight
at Hussa and it was a look of implacable hatred.
    Here, she seemed to be thinking,
was living proof of her husband’s infidelity. For years, she had managed to
keep that distasteful memory remote from her life but, today, here was her
husband’s bastard son, Hussa, in plain view of all.  I wondered how she knew it
was he, for he was not much like Father, but there is never any point in trying
to fathom a woman’s instinct. I turned back to Hussa and saw that he had seen
my mother’s expression and returned it. Of course, he might resent me and our
father, but it was this woman who, in his eyes, had ruined his life and
destroyed his mother.
    His face took on a dangerous
expression and he now fixed me with an appraising stare, as he swung his sword
in a gentle arc and shifted the weight of his shield. Then, in a flash, he was
on me. I might have expected fury and as a result recklessness, but there was
none of that. His moves were calculated, driven by ice cold anger: which
focused his mind on the fight. As a result, every attack was threatening and
any one of them could have potentially won the bout. Forced onto the defence, I
just blocked and parried each attack as I watched him and waited for my chance.
    He lunged at me and I caught the
blade with my shield then followed up with a swing from the side. He danced out
of the way and my momentum took me past him. I could feel my heart pounding as
I turned to face him, just in time to see the thrust coming towards my neck.
    I flinched back, staggering away
from him, but I had to open my arms to balance myself so he came on again,
attacking the gap in my defences. This time, it was he who overstepped and I
slammed my shield into his side sending him sprawling onto