“Now for the arms and hands, and then the helm, and you’re ready to do battle!”
“Assuming I’d be able to move, yes, but with all this on, I doubt if I can even take a step, let alone raise my hand and strike a blow.”
“I bet you will. Alec says your adrenaline kicks in as soon as the lesson starts. Why don’t you practice walking around while Vandal finishes up with that class? The next one is due to start in ten minutes.”
Alden spent the next ten minutes walking up and down along the line of hay bales, wondering if avoiding Lisa was worth the heatstroke he was sure to acquire by standing out in the sun in full plate metal.
“Going to join us today?” Vandal asked, clanking his way over to where Alden was sweating profusely under all his armor. Both men were helmless, since Vandal evidently didn’t wear one, and Alden couldn’t bear to be closed into it with the heat of the day.
“Mercy talked me into it. I trust I am an acceptable student? I don’t have any experience at combat with swords.”
“This is a beginners’ class,” Vandal answered, and gestured to three men who were sitting in various posesof exhaustion on the bales of hay, sipping from bottles of water. “You’re a bit behind the others, but let’s give you an introduction to the art of melee combat while they’re taking a break. I believe there is one other newcomer—you, sir?”
“That’s right,” came a familiar booming voice from inside a conical helm. One metal-encased hand lifted up the visor to reveal Barry Butcher. “Heard about the fighting classes, and decided it was an opportunity I couldn’t miss.”
“You know each other?” Vandal asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes,” Alden replied with a weak smile, then continued before Barry could go into detail. “I don’t intend to do more than just have an introduction, if that’s all right. I do have a house to renovate, after all.”
Vandal made a gesture that Alden assumed was a shrug under what had to be at least a hundred pounds of armor. “Whatever you like. Now, I’ll need you two to each pick a weapon. Beginners are limited to sword or mace. You’ll find the practice weapons behind you.”
“Ah, a mace. I like the looks of this,” Barry said, hefting a long-handled mace in one hand. “This could take the legs out from under a man in one blow. Yes, this will do nicely.”
Alden bared his teeth in another smile at the speculative look Barry cast his way, and took a sword. He felt that, somehow, a sword was a more gentlemanly weapon.
“Good. Now we’ll go over some of the basic rules of melee combat. If you violate any of them, you are out of the class, understand?”
Both men nodded.
“First thing: no stabbing motions of any sort. Doesn’tmatter where or with what weapon you’re using—no stabbing. Likewise, no horizontal blows to the back of the neck. In addition, for the purposes of this class, we are declaring the following areas off-limits to blows: groin, feet, and back of knees.”
Mercy came forward with two shields, handing them to each man. She grinned at Alden, and gave him a thumbs-up.
“Shields up,” Vandal said, and just as Alden raised his, trying to get used to the weight of it, Vandal lunged forward with a sword, and viciously attacked the shield a number of times. Alden staggered backward, not expecting the assault, and also not braced for the strength needed to keep the shield in position.
“What the hell?” he said when Vandal stopped. His hand felt numb for a few seconds.
“You need to get used to taking blows with your shield. Remember to use it as a barrier. The fewer blows that get through to you, the longer you’ll last.”
He repeated the process with Barry, who was ready for it, and didn’t seem to suffer from any difficulty in fending off the blows.
“Right. Mercy, the helms.”
Mercy returned with a box containing padded cotton helm linings, a couple of mail collars, and the two helms.
“Collars first, then arming caps, then helm,” Vandal instructed.
Alden donned the mail collar, which was supposed to protect his neck, then the thick padded arming cap, which tied under the chin, and finally, the helm fit snugly over the cap.
“Ready?” Vandal asked, and closed the visor on Alden’s helm.
Instantly, Alden was pulled to a different world. Sounds were muffled and distant, and his range of vision was extremely limited to just what was directly in front of him. He could see Barry’s eyes glittering through the narrow slit of his helm, and felt a jolt of adrenaline.
“Go!” Vandal shouted.
Barry swung his mace before Alden could even raise his shield, taking a blow to the head that didn’t hurt, but left him reeling a few steps nonetheless. He saw Barry raise his arm again, and this time got his shield up and, struggling under the heavy armor, managed once again to block the blow. His breath sounded harsh in his ears, drowning out all other sounds but that of the frantic beating of his heart. Barry swung again and Alden blocked, lifting his sword in the air in a menacing fashion.
He couldn’t bring himself to swing it, though. It didn’t seem right to be striking a man with a huge sword, even if they were wearing armor, and the weapons were blunted.
