ess
people?"
The Abarian whirled with alarm not knowing what force might be arrayed
against him. But when he saw the lone Jlomec, his composure returned
and his self-assurance again took charge. Had the newcomer been
Bontarc, the dreamy Jlomec's skillful brother, Retoc the Abarian would
have conducted himself differently. But as it was, he sneered at the
gentle Nadian and asked, "What business of this is yours, Jlomec?"
"Injustice is everyone's business. These people, whoever they are, ask
only to drink." Jlomec's eyes blazed. "And drink they shall, Abarian!"
* * * * *
Retoc's handsome eyes glowed. No doubt as to the outcome of this
contest. He drew his own sword and whipped its supple length through
the air. "Since you choose to champion this scum, let's get on with
it."
Had Jlomec's indignation not been of a quality to blind him to
consequences, he would have perhaps hesitated. But hot with this
injustice, he whipped his own sword and leaped at Retoc.
The latter, with a grim smile of confidence, parried the thrust with
ease and manipulated his own whip-sword with a skill which few
fighting men on the planet Tarth could have equalled.
The weapons were strange ones by Earth standards and would have
probably been considered impractical. They were a good six feet in
length with the supple resiliency of a fly casting rod. The trick of
using them effectively lay in controlling the sway and whip of the
long thin blades by skillful use of the wrist. An expert Tarthan
swordsman could parry a thrust with a lightning whip of his blade, arc
the singing steel in the opposite direction and perhaps bring his
opponent down with a thrust that would enter between his shoulder
blades, the sword still arced to describe half a circle.
* * * * *
In essence, this favorite weapon of the Tarthans was a combination of
whip and sword and combat was a matter of thrusting at angles far
wider than could be achieved with a stiff blade. A good Tarthan
swordsman would have been an excellent billiard player on Earth for
his knowledge of workable angles was of necessity supreme.
Retoc the Abarian was a master at this swordplay. Enjoying himself
hugely because there was little risk, he toyed with the less skillful
Nadian. He did not intend to kill Jlomec, fearing the wrath of
Bontarc. He meant only to teach the stupid Nadian a lesson he would
not forget.
But as his b
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