Morgan pulled Gabriel down the hallway and into the huge training room on the other side of the house.
“What are you doing?” Gabriel asked once she had let him go.
“I wanted to see if the rumours were true. If the great Gabriel Black-Lighting is as good as they say.” She smiled flicking the edges of her coat back. Gabriel saw two curved scimitar swords strapped at her waist. Gabriel smiled and walked to a large chest at the edge of the room. He kept a careful eye on the girl behind him. He unlatched it and lifted a long thin object wrapped in an oil sheet. He pulled the sheet off revealing a five foot long battleaxe. Silver and gold inlay wound down the handle and copper decorated the wickedly sharp blade. He threw the sheet back in the box and turned back to Morgan.
“Guard” Morgan said once he was near her again. She slid into a defensive pose her legs apart one blade in front of the throat and the other protecting her waist. Gabriel rolled his shoulders and his neck and shifted Hyperion into both hands. Morgan moved like lightning Gabriel leapt back and blocked both swords swiftly.
Almost half an hour later they were still going. The sound of the fight had attracted a lot of the party goers. Both combatants were dripping sweat onto the wooden floor. No blood had yet been shed and the fight wasn’t over until it had been. It didn’t look likely. Gabriel and Morgan were both well matched.
Gabriel ducked as a heavy blow swung staying put would have meant losing his head. Dropping to the floor he swung his legs out sweeping Morgan's out from beneath her.
As she fell she threw one of the blades it buries itself in the wall ten feet behind Gabriel. Gabriel's mouth filled with the all too familiar taste of blood. He stood up and held his hand out to her pulling her up.
“Well done” he said they were both breathing heavily. She smiled the crowed lined up around the walls were all cheering she bowed slightly. Gabriel walked to the wall and with a bit of effort he pulled the blade from the wall. A shower of plaster dust fell to the floor. He looked at it the blade was crisscrossed with old battle scars. Gold was set into the thin handle Gabriel frowned at the makers mark near the end trying to work out where he had seen it before.
A few minutes later Gabriel was heading up to the shower. Hyperion sat on his shoulder supported by one hand.
“Gabriel?” Morgan called from the bottom of the stairs. He turned to her and waited. “Did you want me to clean your face up?” Gabriel shook his head.
“Nah, I’ve had worse than this” he said. “Thanks” he carried on walking.
“You’re welcome” he heard her voice behind him.