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moment later, Richard was in the saddle and had struck down two more of his opponents. |
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By then Walter had reached the group and slashed one man from the rear. Another turned to drive him away but found that task more than he could handle alone and called for help, which drew still another man from the attack on Pembroke. There were now only four left of the thirteen who had originally ridden to the attack, and the leader of the group was growing desperate. |
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The man was shouting orders, but Walter could not really understand because his French had so strange an accent, and, together with the noise and the fact that he could spare little attention to listen, to the orders were incomprehensible. Fortunately, Walter rid himself of one of his opponents just then and caught a glimpse of Richard engaged with three men in the front while the leader worked his way around to the left rearwhere Walter should have been. |
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Walter roared a warning, but it was too late. The man behind Pembroke launched a blow at his head. It struck only glancingly and at so odd an angle that the sword twisted in its owner's hand and fell. Either the earl had heard Walter's warning or some sidelong glance had warned him so that he ducked. Nonetheless, he must been partially stunned, for his sword arm dropped and his head bent forward. Seizing his opportunity, the leader leaned forward, grasped Richard's helmet from the back, and wrenched it off with such violence that the metal tore the earl's lips and nose and the helmet struck his forehead a brutal blow. Between the pain and the blood, Richard was effectively blinded. Walter bellowed and surged forward, regardless of the threat of his remaining opponent, but it was not possible to ride through a horse. |
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Beau reared on command and flourished with his hooves, neighing and snapping, while the other destrier, caught down and too close, backed away. Walter leaned out so far he almost toppled from the saddle, but he did manage to get in a blow made extra powerful by the tilt of his body, and, in thrusting out his right leg to save himself from falling, he kicked the backing horse in the shoulder. Prodded, the beast obediently turned away, still backing, carrying his reeling rider out of harm's way, but Walter had no intention of pressing his attack. He was only interested in reaching the |
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