Kael
Draven's knee bent.
His spear did not fall.
The weight spread through the circle, dragging loose grit flat and pulling the shield carrier down behind the rim of his guard. The man caught himself with one boot braced against the base of the slope.
Outside the boundary, Aiden began moving.
I kept my attention on Draven.
The carts had started along the route we had cleared. Looking after them would not make the wheels move faster.
Draven was the person close enough to interrupt what was letting them move at all.
I had learned that lesson from a padded arm on an empty practice ground. The arm had been slower than a fighter and considerate enough to swing along the same path every time.
Draven owed me neither advantage.
I watched the spear and the shoulder behind it while keeping the base wide. The formation wanted my whole attention. Giving it everything would leave the rest of me standing in front of an armed opponent, satisfied with my technique.
