Stonewielder Read Online Free PDF

knives,’ he observed conversationally.
    Orjin shot him a glare, his cheeks puffing. The three danced around him while he shifted slowly, knees bent, stave cocked. ‘Now, normally,’ he began, ‘none of you would have occasion to meet an opponent using a two-handed weapon …’ One lunged in, and Orjin’s stave smacked his face, sending him tottering aside. Orjin returned his guard on the remaining two. ‘Normally, it is too slow and awkward to move from side to side across the body. A nimble opponent should—’ The same one charged, slashing. Orjin’s stave parried, dipped, and came up into the fellow’s groin. The man fell like a string-cut puppet. Kyle winced in empathetic pain.
    Sweat now sheathing his face, Orjin faced their spokesman, who smiled, acknowledging the lesson, and immediately attacked. Parrying, Orjin dipped his head, shouting his encouragement. ‘Yes, yes! That’s right – draw the point aside, prepare the gauche for the hidden thrust!’
    A warning shout from Kyle died in his throat as the hand-slapped fellow re-entered the fray to grip Orjin from behind. Kyle was amazed by the foolhardiness of the move; the bhederin-like Orjin was half again as broad as any man he’d ever met.
    Shrugging, Orjin wrenched an arm around to get the man in a headlock and threw him over his shoulder stomach up like a sack of grain. Stave in one hand, he faced the spokesman. ‘Now you have the advantage – a one-handed opponent!’
    The spokesman did not hesitate. His booted feet shushed and thumped the sand as he dodged, feinting, circling the ponderously shifting Orjin. Kyle kicked himself from the wall. Shit! He’s really gonna try it! The longsword scraped up the shaft of the stave, holding it aside, and he stepped in the gauche, thrusting, but Orjin spun, the blade sawing shallowly across his side as the legs and boots of the man across his shoulder smashed into his assistant, sending him flying aside. Orjin tossed the man on to his sprawled fellow and stood panting. He touched his side gingerly and flinched. ‘The lesson is …’ he drew a heavy breath, ‘that you all should’ve attacked at once, regardless.’
    Kyle watched the big man’s chest rising and falling. Out of breath already? Not good. No, not good at all. He replaced the baton.
    As the spokesman struggled to rise Orjin put a booted foot to his backside and sent him tumbling to the tunnel. ‘I’d charge you. But I suspect you’re all incapable of learning anything.’
    Gathering up their fallen weapons, they backed off to the exit. Kyle bowed as they passed. ‘Honoured sirs!’ They merely glared and mouthed curses. Kyle ambled out to Orjin, who was cleaning up. ‘Winded already …’
    The man shot him a glare. ‘Been a while.’ He found a rag, wiped his jowls.
    ‘A little dust-up like that shouldn’t—’
    ‘Drop it.’
    Kyle’s brows rose. Short-tempered too . ‘So I’ll be by tomorrow afternoon then for that sword and shield work. What do you say? Full armour too?’
    Orjin made a face. ‘Very funny. Now get out of here. I have to get cleaned up.’
    Kyle saluted and backed away.
    But he’d been serious.
    *

    In a shaded narrow alleyway a few streets down, the young tough, his green felt hat in one hand, dabbed a silk handkerchief to his bleeding nose and mouth and faced the richly dressed Delanss noble in his furred robes and thick silver chains. With a ringed hand the noble edged the young man’s head aside to examine one cheek, tsked beneath his breath. ‘So he did manage to handle you …’
    ‘Father!’
    ‘So, what do you think? Is he the one?’
    ‘He must be. He lifted Donas like a child.’
    ‘Very well. I’ll send word. Until then, hire men to keep an eye on the school.’
    The young man bowed.
    ‘And no retribution! No crossbows in the night, or knives in the market. They want him alive.’
    The young man rolled his eyes. ‘Yes, father.’
    The noble stroked his grey-shot goatee, studied the young