Читать «Rising Tide (зксм-1)» онлайн - страница 171

"Are you still willing to die for Sabyna's honor now, boy?" Aysel didn't waste any time stepping across the man's unconscious body and unloading with the axe again.

Jherek shifted, shuffling to the side, feeling the wall behind him come into contact with him unexpectedly. He dropped into a crouch with his back to the wall. The axe thudded into the hard wood, wedging in tight.

Aysel tugged on the haft, struggling to free his weapon. It came loose, ripping wood from the wall in long splinters.

"Not die," Jherek replied hotly, "but I’ll stand for her."

"Because she's shared her body with you?" Aysel taunted. "Is that anything to die for?"

Jherek felt the anger in him turn to ice, and he knew that emotion peaked higher in him than he'd ever thought it could. Even with everything that had happened to him in his life, he'd never felt that way, not at his father, nor at fate, both of which had conspired against him since he'd been born. He ripped the cutlass free of his waist sash, pushing himself up and away from the bigger man.

With a final yank, Aysel pulled the axe from the wall. He saw the cutlass in Jherek's hand, then spread his own hands along the four foot haft of the battle-axe. He grinned wolfishly, full of confidence.

"I've chopped up bigger men than you, boy, and them better armed and armored."

A small movement at Jherek's side alerted him to the man slipping up on him. He whirled and kicked, blocking the man's sword swing with a booted foot and whipping the cutlass's pommel into the man's forehead, stunning him. Even as the man fell away from him, Jherek continued his spin, raising the cutlass blade to block Aysel's axe blow, sliding it over him, then past.

Sweat, blood, and sawdust covered him as he set himself more properly behind his sword. His lungs labored from his exertion and the emotion that filled him.

Aysel drew back, setting himself with his weapon as well. The axe danced in his hands. The fact that he was missing two fingers on his left hand didn't seem to bother him at all. The battle-axe twirled end over end, creating what seemed to be a constant barrier in front of the big sailor.

"I wasn't always a sailor, boy. I've been fighting men longer than I've been at sea."

"I'm not surprised," Jherek said. "Only two things draw a man to the sea and a sailor's life. The love for the sea itself, or crimes committed on dry land so bad that staying there is no longer an option."

Without warning, the battle-axe twisted in Aysel's hands, the blade licking out at Jherek's throat.

Jherek batted the axe head aside with the flat of his cutlass. Metal rang out in the tavern. Seeking to enlarge on the opening he thought he'd created, Jherek stepped forward. In the close confines, the four foot axe haft could be unwieldy in the hands of most.

Aysel was fully aware of his weapon's strengths and weaknesses, though, and the big sailor didn't try to strike with the axe head again. Instead, he hammered the haft into Jherek's face.