Chapter 5

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Julius attacked first. His attack, a thrusting peirce of his fencing sword, nearly skewered Caspian through the chest. He could feel the blade grazing his shirt, swift and powerful. The tip, which was rounded, tore a large gash in his clothing, leaving his a large hole that revealed his skin.

The next attack was another thrust, but it seemed to come in even faster than the previous one. Caspian could do nothing but backpedal as several lightning swift thrusts sought out holes in his defense. Tears appeared along his clothes from near misses. Caspian felt the wind being almost casually displaced from the speed of each attack.

He's faster than I thought.

Caspian gritted his teeth hard enough to almost draw blood. Julius's sword thrusts were coming in faster and faster, until his arm and sword appeared to almost be a blur, mere flashes of silver light.

Fencing swords were not used for slicing into an enemy's flesh. Their primary use was parrying and thrusting. The idea was to parry an attack, and then counter with an even swifter attack. That was, as Caspian knew it, the fundamentals of fencing, which he thought was a prissy sport for rich nobles with too much time on their hands.

Julius was proving him wrong. The young man stayed glued to him, doggedly pursuing him with a tenacity that astounded Caspian. There was no parrying here—there was no need for him to. Caspian didn't have a sword. Even so, with each thrust of his fencing sword, Julius's attacks picked up speed.

"What's the matter, plebeian?" Julius mocked. "Are you having trouble keeping up with me? Ha! Maybe I should give you a handicap!"

Caspian snarled as several strands of hair were sliced off his scalp when Julius nearly stabbed him in the head. The scent of freshly polished steel hit Caspian's nose. The blade retracted, then Julius spun around and attacked with a thrust from the opposite direction. He moved so swiftly that Caspian didn't have time to counterattack.

This... could be bad.

He moved backwards, his feet shuffling, zigzagging as he backpedaled away from the larger boy, who chased after him like a dog chasing its own tail. More attacks came in, brief flashes of light, which he did his best to dodge. He couldn't avoid them all, though, and the sting of several cuts made his nerves flare.

Sweat drenched his forehead, stinging his eyes. Yet he didn't blink—he couldn't blink, lest he miss Julius's next attack.

The world blurred out of focus. A sense of tunnel vision came over Caspian. Everything that he was became focused on Julius to the exclusion of everything else.

There has to be a weakness in his technique.

Every fighting style had a weakness, a fatal flaw that could be exploited. If he could just find the one in Julius's technique, then he could beat this sickeningly burly fool.

Maybe I should use ma—but, no. If I did that, my secret would be exposed.

Unfortunately, Caspian couldn't find any weaknesses—not like this. If he'd had his sword, this match would have been more even, and he could have done something. But, unarmed as he was, Caspian could do nothing to defend against Julius. He was stuck between a tree and the tip of a blade.

A tree? That's it!

Their fight had taken them off the cobblestone path and into the copse of trees. Caspian pressed his back against a tree, feeling the cool bark jab into him through his clothing. Julius came in, thrusting his fencing sword forward, which appeared as a flash of silver.

Ducking, Caspian felt the blade pass over his head, ruffling his hair. The loud thunk! of the tip piercing the tree rang out, as did Julius's cry of shock.

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