In the end, the only thing a man can really do is pick his moment. Watch for the opening, and recognise it when it comes, and seize it. Clover feinted left, switched right, heard the grunt of surprise as Downside’s axe thudded into the turf where he might’ve been. Clover was already rolling across the flat stone, came up turning, edge of his sword flicking out and catching the back of Downside’s boot, below the hem of his mail coat.
