Sumur shrugged and continued striding forwards. ‘Will you run from me?’ he asked, his head cocked to one side. ‘I can smell your fear.’

He is not trying to goad me, is just speaking the truth.

‘All men feel fear,’ Corban snarled and surged forwards.

Partly he was just sick of running and wanted to fight, but there was more to his attack than simply a knee-jerk anger. He had half-hoped to catch Sumur by surprise, maybe have half a heartbeat within which to find an opening.

That did not happen.

Corban’s first strike was a two-handed chop at the head, using all his strength, from feet and ankles, through legs into his back, shoulders and arms.

Sumur met the blow easily, almost lazily shrugging it off. Corban’s second, third and fourth blows – a combination that he was sure Gar would have stopped and applauded him for – all met with hard iron. He did manage to stop Sumur’s advance, though, the Kadoshim planting his feet and gripping his blade two-handed. Corban swirled around him, one blow merging into the next, trying to move onto Sumur’s left side.

Then, without any warning, no visible tell that Corban spotted, Sumur was pushing forwards, almost opening Corban’s throat with his first blow, the blade-tip scraping off Corban’s torc, the second strike glancing off his mail-covered shoulder, the third met with Corban’s blade, the fourth deflected by the iron strips in Corban’s bracer, the sixth avoided by a leap as Sumur tried to cut his feet from under him. Three more blows came at Corban’s head in sharp succession, each one powerful enough to take his head off if not deflected. Corban rolled and rotated his wrists, elbows, shoulders, shifted his weight, sending the blows slipping a finger’s width wide of his head each time.

It is like fighting a giant, his strength is incredible.

Sumur’s blade came at him faster and faster, the strength building with each blow; the Kadoshim starting to move in circles about him, halting Corban’s steady retreat back to the gates of Drassil.

Instinct overcame Corban’s fear then, his mind shrinking to the man and blade before him, reading the shift of his feet, the contraction and extension of muscle, the tilt and bunching of balance. At first it was enough that he managed to block each blow, but slowly his body began working faster than thought, the constant drills of Gar and the sword dance flowing through his limbs without conscious direction, and he began to counter Sumur’s blows. First one in three or four, then every other blow against him and he was striking back.

They exchanged another flurry of blows, Corban using every form within the sword dance, and while he managed to push Sumur back a dozen steps and defend against his attacks, he could not break through the Kadoshim’s guard.