Prince of Hazel and Oak. John Lenahan

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СКАЧАТЬ mounted up and I told him what Mom and Fand had done to Dad and about Mom’s magic Shadowbook paperclip. He took it all in without surprise like I was telling him the latest football scores. I guess if you’re as old as Dahy and have lived all of that time with witches and oracles, it’s easy to take news like this in your stride.

      ‘So you are going to be with us for a while then?’ Dahy asked.

      ‘As long as it takes.’

      ‘Good, I can use you.’

      ‘Use me for what?’ I asked suspiciously.

      We passed one of the Hall’s outbuildings; I recognised it as the one where Lorcan clothes-lined me so long ago. Just past that we rounded a bend and I saw a large group of soldiers standing around a pair of duelling banta fighters in full protective gear.

      ‘You finally got your security force for the Hall of Knowledge,’ I said.

      ‘Yes,’ Dahy replied, ‘I imagine even your grandfather wouldn’t have minded, given the circumstances. I wanted a more ecumenical group but they are mostly Imps, Leprechauns and Faeries.’

      ‘Faeries?’

      ‘Of course. There are a few Banshees but I couldn’t get any Elves or Brownies to join and nobody has spotted a Pooka in ages. This lot are all very green. I could use your help to train them.’

      I was just about to ask what a Faerie looked like when the banta stick duel captured my attention. The one guy wasn’t doing very well. Every time he mounted an attack his opponent seemed to know in advance exactly where it was going to come from. His opponent’s parries and counter-attacks were minimal and effective to the point of perfection. But what really caught my attention was the posture and footwork. There was only one person that moved like that and it made my heart race even before she took off her head protector and shook her wavy black hair over her shoulders like a model in a shampoo commercial. Essa turned and our eyes locked. She was definitely surprised to see me but, as usual with that girl, I wasn’t sure if she was happy about it or not.

      All eyes turned to Dahy and me as we approached. Essa’s duelling partner took off his headpiece and for a moment I was hit with déjà vu. As he revealed his black hair with a white tuft in the front, I momentarily thought it was Fergal but then the Banshee’s sharp facial lines and broad chin broke the illusion.

      ‘Attention, Soldiers of the Red Hand,’ Dahy shouted.

      The group snapped to attention. I smiled. Dahy had held onto the same name as the army that last occupied the Hazellands.

      ‘I give you Conor, Prince of Duir!’

      Everybody dropped to one knee and bowed their heads, except, I noticed, Essa and her Banshee-duelling partner.

      I dismounted. ‘Hi, folks. Look, I’m gonna be around here for a while so you don’t have to do that – OK?’

      ‘As you were,’ Dahy ordered and everybody relaxed as a buzz went through the crowd.

      Essa gave a loud theatrical cough and thankfully the hundreds of eyes left me and turned to her. ‘If our regal visitor doesn’t mind, shall we continue with our training?’

      Her troops straightened up and quieted down. She was more beautiful than I had even remembered. What kind of idiot was I, leaving a woman like this behind? She finished by staring at me with a question on her face and I realised she actually wanted me to answer her question.

      ‘No, no,’ I stammered, ‘by all means continue.’

      She seemed to smile at me but only from one side of her mouth. ‘We have been working all day on banta fighting. Excellent for helping improve footwork and winning competitions, but in battle you are most likely to be attacked with a sword. What happens if you only have a banta stick to defend yourself with?’

      I came very close to shouting out, ‘You’re screwed,’ but two things stopped me: one was that I had seen Essa fight sword with stick and she was damn good at it; secondly, I instinctively felt that undermining Essa in front of her students would be a bad idea.

      ‘Our new guest, Prince Conor,’ Essa continued, ‘fancies himself as quite the swordsman. Your Highness,’ she said with just enough sarcasm that only I heard it, ‘would you like to help me with this demonstration?’

      ‘How about we nip off and spend a little alone time,’ is what I really wanted to say. Instead I answered, ‘Sure.’

      I walked to the midst of about a hundred young eager eyes. Essa and I squared off in the centre and slowly circled each other. For the first time a proper smile crossed her face. Gods, she was stunning. I drew my sword and her smile vanished. She backed into the crowd and threw her banta stick to a soldier and took a training stick from another. She returned back to the centre.

      ‘Conor is wielding a very good sword indeed. Does anyone recognise it?’ A few hands went up. ‘It is the Sword of Duir.’

      A murmur shot through the group. Men and women strained to get a look at the Lawnmower as I held it aloft.

      ‘The difficulty with fighting a sword, especially one as good as this one, is that you must not make direct contact. When wood meets steel head on – it is usually wood that loses.’

      Essa was holding her stick straight out in a pre-duel position with her head turned to face her pupils. I swung the Lawnmower high and sliced about a foot off the top of her banta stick. It was like knife through butter. The crowd laughed. Essa turned and even though she had a smile on her face for the crowd, her eyes had a look I didn’t like. She inspected the stick and then threw it into the audience. A replacement sailed back immediately. Dahy stepped into the circle holding a dulled training sword. I reluctantly swapped the Lawnmower for it.

      ‘Thank you, Prince Conor, for that demonstration,’ she said as she refaced her class. It was probably a good thing Dahy changed my sword ’cause I’m sure I would have done the same thing again. I think stuff like that a second time is even funnier than the first but some people don’t agree and I knew Essa was definitely one of them. ‘A sword is obviously the stronger weapon,’ she continued, ‘but it is inferior in length. You must use your superior reach to set the rhythm and tempo of the fight – directing the battle to your terms.’

      She faced me directly and stood at attention, so I did too. We both bowed at the waist with our eyes locked. Our faces were inches away – I whispered, ‘Miss me?’

      She stood erect, assumed a fighting stance and said, ‘En garde.’

      I raised my sword, adjusted my footing and asked, ‘Is that a yes, or a no?’

      Chapter Eleven

      Essa

      Essa and I circled to the right. This time, as she addressed her class, she never took her eyes off me.

      ‘You will probably have almost double the reach of anyone wielding a sword. If your opponent sets up too close …’ Essa nodded, inviting me closer, ‘then give him a reminder that you are carrying a long stick.’ With the quickest of clicks she tapped my blade out of its position and poked me hard in the chest with СКАЧАТЬ