"Jeffrey Lord - Blade 25 - Torian Pearls." - читать интересную книгу автора (Lord Jeffery)

blow home. They even held onto their swords, although the head-on meeting jarred both of them. Then
the fight dissolved into a continuous savage swirl of attack and counterattack, block, and thrust. Even the
watchers around the circle could barely keep track of who was trying to do what to whom. As for the
two fighters, each man's world had narrowed down to himself and his opponent, the weapons that
whistled through the air, and the circle they were trampling down in the grass.

Blade had to pay less and less attention to his style as the fight went on. Rehod was too likely to take
advantage of even the slightest mistake to land a blow that would be crippling or fatal even with a padded
sword. Perhaps the watchers would judge that Blade had proven himself and stop the fight before either
he or Rehod really gained the advantage? That was possible, but nothing to count on. Rehod was the
type of man to claim that he'd been winning, unless he could no longer stand or lift a sword at the end of
the fight. Letting the fight go on until one man collapsed would make the decision of the baudzi much
simpler.

Besides, Blade suspected that he and Rehod were putting on the kind of show the Kargoi seldom saw.
The fight was too good a piece of entertainment to be stopped before one of them lay flat on the ground.

So nothing and nobody except the two men themselves would end the fight. With that clear in his mind,
Blade settled down to make sure that it was Rehod who ended up flat on the ground, not Richard Blade.

The swords whirled in the air and clattered against each other. The circle of trampled grass grew wider
and wider as two large pairs of booted feet pounded back and forth in a deadly dance. Sweat dripped
down both men, leaving trails in the dust on their skins and dark stains on their leather garments, forcing
them both to grip their swords tighter and tighter. Both sensed that the first man to lose a weapon would
almost certainly be the first man down and out.

Against an opponent other than Rehod, Blade would not have been quite so concerned about that. The
watchers would not end the fight before there was a definite winner, true. But certainly by now they
would also be willing to admit that Blade was worthy to be a warrior of the Kargoi, even if he lost.

Against Rehod, though, losing the fight would mean losing life or limb. That was becoming more certain
with each moment. Rage and hatred were growing in the man and blazing more and more savagely from
his sweating face and wide-staring eyes. Blade knew that if he faltered even for a few seconds Rehod
would use those seconds to kill or cripple. The watchers could not hope to prevent it or perhaps even
notice it until the damage was done.

So Blade pressed his attacks harder and faster. He knew now that Rehod had an edge in sheer physical
strength, but he had about the same edge in speed. If he could use that speed to drive home a few blows
that would start cutting away Rehod's strength ....

Blade's swords darted and flew like striking snakes, as fast as human muscles could move them. At the
same time they moved with deadly accuracy to their targets. Blow by blow, Blade began dealing out
punishment.

Another blow to Rehod's shoulder. One to the right side of his chest, another to the left side of his belly.
Two in quick succession to his right thigh, which left a spectacular welt and drew a hiss of pain. Blade
followed up the blows to the thigh by working down the same leg with three more attacks. The last one
went squarely home to the knee. After that Rehod was unmistakably favoring his right leg.

His legs might be taking punishment, but Rehod's arms were still as strong and quick as ever. Blade