In the Hand of the Goddess Read Online Free PDF Page A

worry, Uncle. Alan keeps his head in a fight.”
    Mikal leaned toward Roger, not bothering to keephis voice low. “The squire is brave, but this is folly. Dain is good, very good. And he cannot always control his temper. I fear this evening will have a sorrowful ending.”
    Alanna and Dain stepped to the center of the floor, their unsheathed swords pointing down. Alanna fingered the ember-stone nervously under her shirt, wishing she felt calmer. The king stood.
    â€œAre you prepared?”
    They both faced him and bowed, then saluted him with their swords. Quickly they bowed and saluted each other, then moved until they were just a sword’s length apart.
    â€œCross your weapons,” the King ordered. Alanna and Dain obeyed. “Do honor to the laws of chivalry and to the customs of your lands. Guard!”
    Dain swung his blade around, meeting Alanna’s with a clear, ringing sound. He bore down, trying to force her sword to the floor. Alanna gritted her teeth and held, the muscles in her arms screaming. Dain’s eyes widened; she was much stronger than she looked. He broke away and circled her.
    â€œPrepare to die, boy!”
    Alanna did not reply. It was the custom to yell insults and challenges at an opponent, but she hadalways thought this was a waste of breath. She had also noticed that her unusual silence made her opponents nervous. Instead she watched Dain steadily, waiting for the movement of his torso that would give his next thrust away.
    He whipped his sword down and in. Alanna struck it away and slid her own blade straight toward Dain’s heart, ready to pull back if she had to. Dain stepped back hurriedly, and Alanna lunged back before she went off-balance.
    â€œA child’s trick!” Dain scoffed.
    The king winked back at Roger. “That ‘child’s trick’ nearly worked,” he murmured, to Ambassador Mikal’s obvious discomfort.
    Dain was circling and talking, trying to keep Alanna distracted until he spotted her weakness. He lunged in and back with great speed, searching for her one failure to fend him off. Alanna parried his blows and watched for an opening she would use to knock the sword from his hand: she wanted no bloodshed. Sweat was trickling down her cheeks, making her nervous—what if it got in her eyes? It was no comfort that Dain’s shirt and tunic were soaked through on the chest and between his shoulder blades, or that he was breathing in deep, heavy gasps. Alannagrinned to herself. He should have begun fencing with Coram’s big old sword , she thought. Then he wouldn’t be so tired now.
    Frantic, Dain insulted her ancestors, her mother, her looks. Alanna ignored him, far more worried about the sweat she could feel on her forehead. The only sound in the big room was the padding of their stockinged feet and Dain’s harsh breathing. Alanna spotted a chance and lunged desperately—Dain stumbled back; She tried to wipe her face on her sleeve while he recovered.
    She wasn’t quick enough. With a yell of triumph the knight darted forward. She stepped back too slowly, and the tip of Dain’s sword sank deep into her right arm below the elbow. Cursing her bad timing, Alanna lowered her blade. She had lost. According to the rules, Dain had won by drawing first blood. The fight was over.
    He lunged for her chest, his eyes wide and crazy. Alanna jumped aside, just missing dying on the Tusaine’s sword.
    â€œFoul!” Gary yelled, furious. Others joined him, yelling “Foul!”
    Dain ignored them. He circled Alanna, searching for another opening. Duke Gareth strode forward, hissword shimmering in his fist. He obviously planned to end the fight, and from the look on his face, if Dain got hurt it would be too bad for him!
    Alanna stopped her teacher with a shake of the head. A cold, glittering fury filled her chest. She loved the laws of chivalry, and this Tusaine barbarian had just broken them. He would pay