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Page 150
be others to help him search, and probably others that knew these fields well. He turned toward the sound, roweling his horse unmercifully because in his mind's eye he saw Alinor weeping with the pain of broken bones or stunned, helpless, and frightened. He was indeed so immersed in his mental image that even when the riders were in sight he did not at once perceive the oddity of the fact that there were no hounds. Only the long-ingrained habit of danger, which had made him put his shield on his arm, saved him from being cut down when he came upon the first pair.
The truth burst upon him when he saw the glitter of a lifted sword so that he was able to ward off the stroke of one man with his shield. The other, however, opened a nasty gash along his ribs as he threw down his lance, useless for such close work, slipped his wrist through the loop of his morningstar, and freed it from his saddlebow. The morningstar was not a weapon Simon favored. It did not make clean wounds like a sword but crushed and tore. Now, however, he sought it instinctively. Clean wounds or death were too good for those who threatened Alinor.
The sick, wet crunch, the choked-off scream, the thud of a man's fall when the spiked steel ball at the end of the brutal, barbed chain connected were sweet music. The backswing caught the top of the other rider's shield with such an impact that it forced the metal edge back into his face. His sword stroke, aimed at Simon's head, fell awry on the shoulder. There was enough force left in it to cut the surcoat and drive the mail through shirt and tunic and open the flesh. Another trickle of blood began to stain the gray surcoat. Simon laughed and swung his arm. The ball flew wide. The barbs of the chain caught the nape, below the helmet, pierced through the links of mail hood. Simon pulled. Jaw and neck tore away. The man fell without crying out, gagged by his own blood.
The horse hardly needed spurring now. Meleetrained, it charged toward the oncoming riders. Simon

 
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