Then Barry swung the mace again, catching the edge of Alden’s shield, and ripping it from his hand. Barry didn’t wait for a reaction—he slammed a shield into Alden’s chest, and a big metal-covered fist into the visor of his helm.
Fury rose in Alden, adrenaline spiking him hot and fast, causing him to whirl around and slice at Barry’s rib cage with his sword, sending the older man stumbling to the side. He used that moment to reclaim his shield, then, when Barry lifted his mace, lunged forward, slamming both shield and sword against the man’s head.
Barry almost fell backward, but retained his footing, and gave a little shake of his head. Mindful of the off-limit zones, Alden whacked Barry across the knees withthe sword, while striking again with the shield, this time knocking Barry’s shield away.
Alden took a blow to the shoulder, but it almost didn’t register, so focused was he on defeating his opponent. He kicked out, his foot landing on the center of Barry’s chest, causing him to stagger backward several steps before falling onto his back. Alden leaped forward—as much of a leap as he could accomplish clad in all that metal—and held his sword over Barry’s head.
Vandal came into his field of view, waving his hands, which Alden took to be the cease-fire gesture.
“Nicely done,” Vandal said a minute later, having pulled off the helm and arming cap. Alden was sweating profusely, his breath coming in fast, short gulps, but he felt absolutely wonderful, just as if he’d really fought off a vicious attacker.
That feeling lasted until Mercy helped him off with his armor, some forty minutes later. By then, the blows that he’d taken first from Barry, then from the other students as they’d plunged into a free-for-all melee, began to take their toll.
“Ow,” he told her as she began to unbuckle all the bits of armor. Vandal and Alec were doing likewise for the other students. “That hurts.”
“What does?” She paused in the act of removing his chest plate. “Your shoulder?”
“No. Breathing. Also, living. Living and breathing hurts.”
“Uh-huh. Bet you’re going to be a mass of bruises tomorrow,” she answered without the slightest hint of sympathy. “You looked like you were having fun, though. Were you?”
He thought about that while she peeled off the rest ofhis armor. “I suppose so. It was difficult at first, but then some sort of primal fight-or-flight instinct seemed to kick in, and all I wanted to do was bash the others to bits. It’s a bit unnerving just how much I wanted that.”
“Supposedly, melee fighting like this relieves tensions and stored aggressions. Perhaps it was good for you to work all that out of your system.”
“Perhaps.” He was about to say more when a voice cut through his thoughts.
“Well, didn’t you look the perfect knight inliteralshining armor? I’ve never seen such a manly-man sort of activity before in all my born days. It just thrilled me to my very core, it did indeed! I declare I could justfallat your feet with admiration.”
Lisa moved around to where he was sitting. Mercy shot her a curious glance, but continued to remove his greaves.
Alden’s tongue immediately tied itself into a knot. He was very aware of Mercy silently working to free him from the grip of the armor and the thick cotton arming clothes, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“How long is this fair going on?” Lisa asked, glancing around. “I do hope you’re going to fight again. I’ll be sure to cheer you on if you do.”
His shoulders slumped when Mercy slipped off the arming doublet.
Now what the hell was he going to do?
Chapter 9
“Alden,” I said softly.
He sat frozen on a bale of hay, his eyes wide and startled, his hands fisted on his knees.
“Hmm?” His gaze shifted to me.
I tapped his hand with my finger. “I can’t get your gloves off if you don’t relax.”
He looked down. “Oh. Sorry.”
“I justloveall this, I truly do,” the woman who had approached us said in a thick Georgian accent. “I did drama while I was in college, you know? And I loved dressing up and pretending I was, oh, just all sorts of people. It’s justeverso much fun. Since you’re done with the show, when your servant there gets done undoing all those bits and pieces, Alden, perhaps you can show me around?”
“I’m not a servant,” I said politely, holding back a snippy answer. I had enough experience working in the service industry to know how poorly sarcasm goes over with the customer. “My name is Mercy, and I’m the archery instruct—”
It was my turn to freeze. The woman’s sentence had finally filtered all the way through my brain.Alden?She knew Alden’s name? I looked up from where I was kneeling at his feet. He was watching me, not the woman, but with an expression in his eyes that I couldn’t read. Was it a plea for help? Sympathy? Anger, betrayal, disinterest? I simply couldn’t tell, and didn’t want to embarrass him in what was sure to be an awkward situation, so I kept quiet.
Alden must have realized the silence was stretching far too long, and finally, as I got the last bit of armor and arming gear off him, said, “Erm.”
