Read Online Arena 13 #2 THE PREY by Joseph Delaney - Free Book Online
Authors: Joseph Delaney
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Ready ,’ answered the lac in its harsh, guttural voice.
‘Stand!’ Tyron said. ‘Combat stance! Training mode!’
The lac went into a crouch. By calling the wurdes ‘training mode’, Tyron had reduced its speed and reactions to make my task easier. He picked up a leather ball about the size of a human head and handed it to the lac.It had a strip of leather attached to it, designed for a hand to slip inside.
The lac would attempt to clout me with the ball; I would do my best to insert my blade into its throat-socket. If I did that, it would silently call the wurde ‘endoff’ and collapse inert on the floor. I would have won.
‘Are you ready, Leif?’ Tyron asked.
I nodded, gripping my blade firmly, taking up my position facing the lac, my heart beginning to speed up. The lac’s eyes flickered behind the horizontal black slit in the face armour. It was watching me.
I stared back, took a deep breath and moved into the initial pattern of the dance. Two steps to the left. Two steps to the right. As the lac came towards me, I began to retreat diagonally to the right. It was a textbookopening manoeuvre.
The lac advanced rapidly, starting to swing the leather ball. I reversed suddenly, my bare feet slapping hard against the boards. I was moving in, aiming for the throat-socket.
I ducked.
But I wasn’t fast enough.
The ball struck me hard on the back of the head, knocking me to the floor. I stayed down, stunned, with a ringing in my ears and my head spinning. Then I clambered to my feet.
Before the end of last season I’d been able to win the game two out of three times. I was disappointed now, but my determination grew. It was good to be back on the training floor. This time I would
‘Stand!’ Tyron said. ‘Combat stance! Training mode!’
The lac went into a crouch. By calling the wurdes ‘training mode’, Tyron had reduced its speed and reactions to make my task easier. He picked up a leather ball about the size of a human head and handed it to the lac.It had a strip of leather attached to it, designed for a hand to slip inside.
The lac would attempt to clout me with the ball; I would do my best to insert my blade into its throat-socket. If I did that, it would silently call the wurde ‘endoff’ and collapse inert on the floor. I would have won.
‘Are you ready, Leif?’ Tyron asked.
I nodded, gripping my blade firmly, taking up my position facing the lac, my heart beginning to speed up. The lac’s eyes flickered behind the horizontal black slit in the face armour. It was watching me.
I stared back, took a deep breath and moved into the initial pattern of the dance. Two steps to the left. Two steps to the right. As the lac came towards me, I began to retreat diagonally to the right. It was a textbookopening manoeuvre.
The lac advanced rapidly, starting to swing the leather ball. I reversed suddenly, my bare feet slapping hard against the boards. I was moving in, aiming for the throat-socket.
I ducked.
But I wasn’t fast enough.
The ball struck me hard on the back of the head, knocking me to the floor. I stayed down, stunned, with a ringing in my ears and my head spinning. Then I clambered to my feet.
Before the end of last season I’d been able to win the game two out of three times. I was disappointed now, but my determination grew. It was good to be back on the training floor. This time I would
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