And then he punched his shield into Merlin’s chest, knocking him flat to the ground.
Merlin hit the grass hard enough to jostle his blade from his fingers. Breathless and amazed, he watched Arthur step over him, kick his blade away, then point his own sword at his throat.
Above them on the hill, wild applause broke out, and a few cheers besides.
“That was cheating!” Merlin rasped out.
He wanted to be angry. He really did. But he couldn’t manage it. Not in the face of such a brilliant piece of strategy. He couldn’t believe Arthur had outwitted him. And in the face of a magical attack, no less.
“That wasn’t cheating,” Arthur told him. “That was knowing your opponent.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Arthur grabbed his forearm and hauled him to his feet. “With you, there’s always only one solution. One emotion-based, headstrong, poorly thought out solution. That’s your problem. You never think through all the angles. All the points of weakness. You just rush headlong into danger.”
“That’s… not true,” Merlin protested, though not with much certainty.
“It’s a common hubris of men of great power,” Arthur said. “They forget they’re not invulnerable.”
Merlin couldn’t find the words to respond, too busy trying to process the compliment so clearly stated beneath the criticism.
Arthur grinned at him, a lopsided thing full of affection. “From now on, leave the strategy to me. I’m far better at it than you. Now go sit down. You look like a strong breeze could knock you over.” (c)