о
надо бы сохранить их спарринг *__*
“Trouble hanging onto your sword, sire?” Merlin asked, as Arthur retrieved the weapon from the ground. “Maybe I should give you some pointers.”
“You, give me pointers.” Arthur straightened, scoffing at him. “In what? How to fall down?”
Мerlin picked up a training sword and shield from the pile at his side, and stood up.
“Seriously?” Arthur asked.
“Are you scared?” Merlin asked loudly.
Arthur glanced over to the group of men and women who stood taking refreshment by the table Merlin had set out. “Oh, by all means,” he said, and gestured to the clearing.
While Arthur retrieved his training sword, Merlin strode down to the lakeside, his shield raised to hide his face, his blade lifted, saying: “beþence gefyllan áflygennessa.”
A quick surge of magic, small and controlled, had him turning to where Arthur stood ready upon the lawn, sword raised, a deeply smug and superior smirk upon his lips.
Merlin took his place facing him, raised his sword, and waited.
Arthur twirled his sword.
Merlin’s blade repeated the same motion.
Arthur stilled, frowning curiously at him.
“Don’t worry, I’ll try not to hurt you too badly,” Merlin said loudly.
Arthur rushed forward with an wide swing that had Merlin’s shoulder wrenching in its socket as he twisted to meet Arthur’s strike. Again Arthur attacked, this time three rapid blows, Merlin’s blade yanking his arm through the air to meet each one.
“Well done!” Danyl called.
Arthur glanced at the applauding crowd of students, then narrowed his eyes at Merlin. “What did you do?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Merlin informed him.
“Really?”
“Really.” (С) click