Vengeance Read Free Page B

past Ohannes, he hit the axeman’s legs just below the hips with every ounce of his weight. This was enough to drive his body back onto the chest, over which he collapsed, the swinging blade missing the old man by a whisker. Sword now freed, Ohannes was swift to employ it once more on his opponent, a man wounded but still dangerous. The blade sliced down on his neck as the spearmanthrust out awkwardly with the fore part of his weapon to parry the blow.
    Not that Flavius saw much more than movement in the corner of his eye; the axe that had threatened the Scythian was now about to be employed on him and all the youngster could do was thrust up his own arm to try and ward it off. He soon found out that while he was able to impede the speed of the blow, an adult had the kind of strength he could not match. His head was down and he was sure he was going to die when the sword swished past his crown with such energy that he felt the wind of it on his flesh; he also heard the arm bone break.
    ‘Your sword,’ Ohannes yelled. ‘Get the damn sword and finish him off.’
    That command had to be executed by a very rapid scrabbling on hands and knees. Once the hilt was in his hand Flavius made to stand up, only to find he lacked the time to do so. Added to that he was, once more, fighting one to one, Ohannes being involved in a to-and-fro wrestling match with his wounded opponent. The axeman might be twice injured, but he was still able to threaten Flavius, having transferred the axe to his good hand. The inability of his adversary to swing with real potency saved his young victim, the arc of the left arm being wide enough to avoid by Flavius throwing his body sideways.
    From that moment instinct driven by terror took over. Those same pupils with whom he studied in the classroom, the sons of his father’s officers and senior rankers, as well as the offspring of some of the moneyed citizenry of the city, all undertook military training, albeit with wooden swords and blunted spears. For all the lack of threat in the weapons used, the intent by their instructors was thatthey would be taught as if they were real, so each one carried a leather crop that was used to painfully chastise any youngster who made a false move or employed their arms so badly as to leave themselves uncovered.
    Now on his knees Flavius realised that to seek to rise would be to leave himself utterly exposed: time would not permit it so, gaining as much balance as a split second permitted, he thrust out hard, sending the point of his sword right into the gonads of his attacker, propelling with all his might to seek to get to the stomach. The scream that his assault produced was horrible but that had to be ignored; he was required to use his other hand, fully extended, to catch hold of the arm holding the axe, this while he sought to withdraw his weapon from what was bone-free flesh.
    The knee that took him in the face might have been the act of a desperate man but it was effective; Flavius recoiled, immediately aware of the taste of blood in his mouth. Thrown onto his back he might have died at the hands of a fellow who was himself fatally wounded had he not kicked out frantically to put him off balance. One hurriedly placed boot caught the man below the knee and checked him, and this gave the youngster the time he needed to swing his sword low and hard at a bare ankle. He did so with such force that the blade went right through the back to the bone.
    One leg gone and already off balance his assailant collapsed, which allowed Flavius to spring up from his static position and deliver the killer blow insisted upon by those who had trained him, albeit he had never employed it for real: a cut to the soft join of the head and neck, a swipe that produced a fount of misty blood as his sword edge severed the main artery. Ohannes, up against a much younger man, had survived because of the first wound he had inflicted, which hadsapped the strength of the fellow he was fighting,