Amber Treasure, The by Richard Denning

and bending the elbow, “you can hold it under-arm. The shaft is
grasped further back and supported against the forearm. This method gives you
greater reach and you have more strength behind the point. You can use the
spear to knock aside the enemy’s or to push against his shield and force him
back.”
    As he said this, he pushed the
spear against my shield and I had to shift my weight to keep my position. “But
clearly it is more difficult to wound your foe − protected as he is.”
    Grettir turned and leant the
spear and shield against the trunk of the tree and then turned back to us.
“Now, break up into pairs and practice,” he instructed.
    Cuthbert, ever the optimist,
paired up with Eduard. I turned my head away but was not surprised to hear, a
few moments later, a dull thud and a yelp of pain from Cuthbert as yet again he
was beaten by my other friend. Cuthbert’s best chance was to use his natural
agility to protect himself, but he always tried to stand up, like a warrior
from the sagas, usually to unfortunate results.
    Smiling to myself, I looked
around for a partner. Of the lads present all had paired up, apart from a
red-haired youth. I nodded at him and walked over. He looked familiar. Then I
realised with a start that this was the same youth I had seen every autumn over
the last several years, standing beside the road in Wicstun and again near the
blacksmith’s about six month before. His hair seemed to be getting redder, if
anything.
    “Hello, I’m Cerdic: it looks as
if we have to pair up. Who are you, then?” I asked.
    The boy did not reply at first.
He studied me for a moment then shrugged, before finally answering.
    “I’m Hussa,” he mumbled.
    He might have said more but at
that point, Grettir appeared at my elbow and shouted at us.
    “Stop talking and practice. Don’t
think I won’t make you run to the Humber and back, master’s son or not.”
    I looked at Hussa, quickly took
up my spear and shield and prepared to advance on him. I moved forward feinting
a thrust with the spear in order to draw his shield to his left, then quickly
pushing forward with my own in an attempt to slam it into his unprotected side.
Hussa, however, was too quick for me. He stepped back, allowing me to stumble
past him and then ramming into me with his own shield, sending me tumbling to
the ground. Then, the red-headed lad followed up and jabbed the wooden spear
end into my ribs. Nearby, I heard a clapping of hands as his manoeuvre was
appreciated by Grettir.
    I got up and rubbed my bruised
side. I nodded at Hussa. “Nice move,” I said. Hussa did not acknowledge the
compliment but looked about him, as if seeing if his fellows from Wicstun had
noticed. Ah, I thought. Perhaps vanity might be a weakness in this one. I will
remember that.
    “It seems noble blood or not you
can be beaten, Master Cerdic,” he muttered emphasising my rank in a way that
left me in no doubt he did not respect it in the least. I tried to ask him what
I had done to offend him, but Grettir again appeared and urged us back into the
mock fight. Hussa proved a skilled opponent. Maybe he was not strong like
Eduard or agile like Cuthbert. He was, however, cunning and surprised me more
than once with a sudden change of attack.
    It was a little before dusk when
Grettir called us together. “You have done well today, lads. You all deserve
ale and meat. Even Cuthbert here,” he grinned at the rather bruised Cuthbert,
who looked surprised. But, then again, I think this was the first time Grettir
had ever praised him. After a moment, he grinned back.
    As I watched the group disperse,
I suddenly realised that Eduard and Cuthbert were not the boys I once knew: we
were growing up and were now almost the warriors we had always dreamed about. I
had longed for the day when I would go away to fight, but now it seemed certain
that we would, I began to think about how I would react when battle came at
last. Idly, I thrust my spear forward in a heroic