“They are mine,” D’Arnlo countered, glancing at his students. “They will not betray me. In fact, they will likely join the fight on my side, to prove their loyalty.” He turned to the four lordlings. “How about it?” he said, spreading his arms. “Who will be first to prove themselves?”
There was a pause, then Sebast Garenes stepped forward, sword held at the ready. D’Arnlo laughed and made a slight bow, gesturing for Sebast to approach Relam.
“Go ahead,” the sword master urged. “Prove yourself to me. Begin the battle that will decide the fate of our kingdom. Write your name into history.”
Sebast advanced, then stopped, right in front of Relam. The young prince looked into his former rival’s eyes. There was not hatred there, nor anger. There was no animosity to be found, nor any sign that Sebast held a grudge. Relam lowered his sword and stood erect, knowing he was safe.
As he did, Sebast spun around and raised his sword, glaring at D’Arnlo. “Sorry, D’Arnlo,” he said. “But I am not yours to command.”
D’Arnlo scowled and stepped forward angrily. As he did, the other three students ran to join Relam and the others, doubling their strength. The numbers were nearly even now, though it was still a lopsided battle.
“How . . . unfortunate,” D’Arnlo said mildly. “I had expected better of you, my students. But if you choose to die with these fools,” he drew his sword with a hiss of leather on steel, “Then who am I to stop you?”
Relam drew breath to order his band to attack, but a rough hand closed on his shoulder and pushed him gently out of the way. Oreius stepped forward to face D’Arnlo. “You will not touch them,” he said sternly. “Any of them.”
D’Arnlo inclined his head. “Oreius,” he growled. “You were always a meddlesome fool.” Relam noted with interest that the master of the Citadel looked decidedly nervous, shifting uncomfortably and eying the older man’s sword.
Oreius stared D’Arnlo down. “There is only one fool here, Bene, and it is not me. For the last time, stand down.”
“Never!” D’Arnlo roared. “My time has come. Yours is at an end, old man!”
D’Arnlo lashed out with his sword, trying to catch Oreius unawares. The old warrior flicked the blow aside contemptuously and retaliated in a flash of steel, driving D’Arnlo back.
“Now!” Relam roared, lunging forward and knocking the nearest soldier’s halberd aside.
The others sprang into action, surprising the Citadel guards. Relam managed to stun one with a blow to the head, then found himself beset by two opponents. Narin flanked the first, stabbing him in the thigh, and he and Relam combined to defeat the other. The entire sequence took less than ten seconds, and just like that Relam’s force had the advantage in numbers.
The lordlings quickly joined forces with Relam and Narin, forming a wedge with Relam at the tip. The remaining Citadel guards retreated to the entrance to the courtyard, trying to prevent escape. But Relam was not looking to escape.
“Flank them,” he said briefly. “Jatt, Sebast, take the left side. Knet, Delan, to the right. Narin, Cevet and I will take the middle.”
“What are we doing?” Jatt asked, blinking.
Relam sighed exasperatedly. Then, an idea occurred to him. He bent over and picked up one of the fallen guard’s halberds, handing to Jatt.
“Use this,” he said. In the massive boy’s hands it would be a dangerous weapon. “Stab them with the spearhead, smash them with the axe. Keep them at a distance. Make sense?”
“I think so,” Jatt said, frowning at the unfamiliar weapon. “It’s a bit long, isn’t it?”
“That means you can strike from further away,” Relam said patiently.
“Oh,” Jatt said, understanding. “I can do that.”
“Good,” Relam muttered. “Now, charge!”
The young warrior ran forward, sword held overhead, closely followed by Narin and Cevet. They targeted the center of the line, engaging two of the remaining six guards. The Citadel warriors lunged forward with their halberds, but Relam turned sideways and slipped between the spearheads, deflecting one with his sword. Then, he brought his sword up and over, smashing it down on the shaft of the other halberd. Both guards dropped the unwieldy weapons and drew short swords as Cevet and Narin shot past Relam and joined the fight.
To the left, Jatt lanced one of the guards with a powerful jab of his captured halberd. The weapon, with Jatt’s massive strength behind it, punched straight through the Citadel guard’s armor and sank deep into his body. The guard collapsed, pulling Jatt off balance and causing him to fall in a heap. Sebast engaged the other guard before he could strike at Jatt, dueling with a cold, dispassionate precision. To the right, Knet and Delan darted and weaved around the final two guards, mostly playing defense and waiting for an opening. Relam ranged over and created one, smashing the hilt of his sword into one guard’s head. The other guard turned to face Relam and Delan lunged forward, pricking the man’s neck with his blade.
The Citadel guard dropped his weapons immediately and surrendered. Knet kept an eye on him, while Delan and Relam rejoined the fight.
The remaining three guards were skilled, but outnumbered. They fought with the strength of desperation, all the while being driven back by the relentless force of Relam, Sebast, Narin, Cevet, and Delan. The halberds had been taken completely out of play, and every man was armed with a short sword instead. The young fighters and Narin took it in turns to surge forward in a flurry of flashing steel and then surrender the fight to a comrade. This tactic had the effect of wearing the Citadel guards down quickly, and it was not long before the first man fell
