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Back Nottingham
Chapters (76)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. PROLOGUE
  5. PART I
  6. ONE
  7. TWO
  8. THREE
  9. FOUR
  10. FIVE
  11. SIX
  12. SEVEN
  13. EIGHT
  14. NINE
  15. PART II
  16. TEN
  17. ELEVEN
  18. TWELVE
  19. THIRTEEN
  20. FOURTEEN
  21. FIFTEEN
  22. SIXTEEN
  23. SEVENTEEN
  24. EIGHTEEN
  25. NINETEEN
  26. PART III
  27. TWENTY
  28. TWENTY-ONE
  29. TWENTY-TWO
  30. TWENTY-THREE
  31. TWENTY-FOUR
  32. TWENTY-FIVE
  33. TWENTY-SIX
  34. INTERLUDE
  35. PART IV
  36. TWENTY-SEVEN
  37. TWENTY-EIGHT
  38. TWENTY-NINE
  39. THIRTY
  40. THIRTY-ONE
  41. THIRTY-TWO
  42. THIRTY-THREE
  43. THIRTY-FOUR
  44. INTERLUDE
  45. PART V
  46. THIRTY-FIVE
  47. THIRTY-SIX
  48. THIRTY-SEVEN
  49. THIRTY-EIGHT
  50. PART VI
  51. THIRTY-NINE
  52. FORTY
  53. FORTY-ONE
  54. FORTY-TWO
  55. FORTY-THREE
  56. FORTY-FOUR
  57. FORTY-FIVE
  58. INTERLUDE
  59. PART VII
  60. FORTY-SIX
  61. FORTY-SEVEN
  62. FORTY-EIGHT
  63. FORTY-NINE
  64. FIFTY
  65. FIFTY-ONE
  66. FIFTY-TWO
  67. PART VIII
  68. FIFTY-THREE
  69. FIFTY-FOUR
  70. FIFTY-FIVE
  71. FIFTY-SIX
  72. EPILOGUE
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  75. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  76. Newsletter Sign-up

“You can’t just stand there and take the blow,” Robin scolded, grappling Alan back to his feet, momentarily surprised by how thin his shoulders were. Nicks’s shoulders alone could have crawled off his body and beaten the life out of Alan. “Their sword won’t magically stop just because yours is in the way. That energy is still headed toward you, and if you absorb it, you end up with a broken arm, at the very least. And how much fun is a broken arm, Friar?”

At the edge of the group, Tuck was drinking a large mug of beer, grinning wildly.

“Don’t answer that,” Robin finished. “What you really want, remember now, is not to fight against that energy, but to redirect it.” He demonstrated with Nicks, signaling for the man to attack. Robin stepped back just out of range, deflecting Nicks’s blade down as it passed between them and redirecting it up and away, leaving Nicks’s belly wide and exposed. “Transfer the attack.”

“Can I transfer the attack into something that’s not an attack?” Alan asked. “Maybe a pillow? I’d be alright with that.”

“The Sheriff’s Guard,” Robin lectured the group, “will be trained in simple moves that are designed to work against unskilled opponents. Once you recognize these attacks, you should be able to avoid them simply enough, and transfer them away from you.” Most of the students were nodding, while poor Alan just shook his head in abject frustration. Not every man was built to swing a sword, Robin knew, but most could at least learn the basics. “Watch your hands, watch your feet, watch your angles.”

Alan raised his hand.

“Yes, Alan?”

“I don’t know what that last one means.”

Robin smiled, but only because he had nothing else to offer.

“What if they’re not dead yet?” came a question from Gamble Gold. A hairy man from a hairy village, Gamble was more of a brawler than a swordsman, and probably from experience. “What’s the best way to kill those fuckers?”

There was a rage in his question that Robin had been hoping to avoid. There were heavy differences in the reasons behind each volunteer’s arrival. Men like Gamble Gold seemed interested in punishing any Guardsman who got in their way.

Robin frowned at him. “Remember, these men aren’t so different from us. They have lives, and families. I guarantee you that if you injure them or prove you’re the better fighter, they will run.”