The Eysie had not had any last minute instruction in the use of Sargolian
weapons--he had practiced and, by his stance, knew enough to make him a
formidable menace. The clamor about the Queen's party rose as the
battle-wise eyes of the clansmen noted that and the odds against Jellico
reached fantastic heights while the hearts of his crew sank.
Only Van Rycke was not disturbed. Now and then he raised his smelling
bottle to his nose with an elegant gesture which matched those of the
befurred nobility around him, as if not a thought of care ruffled his
mind.
The Eysie feinted in a opening which was a rather ragged copy of the
young Salarik's more fluid moves some hours before. But, when the net
settled, Jellico was simply not there, his quick drop to one knee had
sent the mesh flailing in an arc over his bowed shoulders with a good six
inches to spare. And a cry of approval came not only from his comrades,
but from those natives who had been gamblers enough to venture their
wagers on his performance.
Dane watched the field and the fighters through a watery film. The
discomfort he had experienced since downing that mouthful of the cup of
friendship had tightened into a fist of pain clutching his middle in a
torturing grip.
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