The parrying of a spear thrust from behind. The turning of that into a twist, and he dodged another thrust from his front, and brought his sword down onto the neck of the man nearest to him. The panic that came with that, all part of the same picture, the same flourish. Danger now, with the necessity of changing direction. A good timing from his foe, aiming the thrust at where Oliver would land. A more difficult problem, without sword ready to solve it. Armour played its role. Gauntlet thrust into its path, using steel to divert steel. Another rush, as Oliver remembered the technique, from a lifetime past lived.
Then sword again as payment, on the man that had missed the opportunity to end him. A good game, a good sport, with a line of red and a pool of blood to show for it.
