Once In a Blue Moon by Simon R. Green Read Free Book Online Page A

She nodded briskly to Hawk, who looked thoughtfully at the Wulfshead for a moment before drawing his axe and hefting it meaningfully. In a simple, straightforward way that showed it was something he did every day. Something he was very good at.
    The Wulfshead stepped back, looked quickly about him, and realised he’d lost the attention of the crowd. He pulled open the front of his brown and green tunic to reveal a preserved wolf’s paw hanging on a silver chain over his very hairy chest. Some people in the crowd made impressed noises, but not many. They’d all seen stranger things, studying at the Hero Academy. The Wulfshead drew his long sword, making a real production of it. He swept the blade back and forth before him, the burnished steel shining bright and sharp in the golden ambience of the entrance hall. He smiled mockingly at Hawk, who hadn’t moved an inch.
    “See the wolf’s paw, little man? I cut it off a werewolf I killed in Redhart, when I was just starting out. Hacked the paw right off and had it made into this useful charm, so I can share the wolf’s strength and speed. No one gets in my way and gets away with it. I have a destiny to fulfil! I’m going to carve you up and cut you into little pieces, little man.”
    Hawk said nothing. Just stood where he was, in his experienced fighter’s crouch, axe at the ready, looking like the solid, skilled warrior he was. Students were running into the hall from all directions—not to interfere, but to watch and learn. News of the two clashing legends had spread quickly through the Millennium Oak, and now students and tutors alike were pressing forward to watch the fight. Because some lessons are best observed firsthand. Hawk didn’t move, or even look around, but he did smile briefly at the Wulfshead.
    “Don’t mind them,” he said easily. “They just like to watch me work.”
    The Wulfshead laughed theatrically, and swept his blade back and forth. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, flexed his muscles ostentatiously, and sneered at Hawk. “Pay attention, everyone!” he said loudly. “And I will show you how it’s done. And when it’s over, Fisher, you can take me on a guided tour of my new home.”
    He surged forward while he was still speaking, an old trick, and Hawk went forward to meet him. The Wulfshead stamped and danced around Hawk, darting this way and that, moving almost too quickly for the human eye to follow. He laughed at Hawk, taunting him, darting in and out, his sword seemingly everywhere at once . . . without actually committing himself to anything, trying to provoke Hawk into making the first attack. But Hawk just held his fighter’s crouch, shuffling slowly round so he was always facing the Wulfshead, no matter how quickly the outlaw tried to catch him off balance. For all the much younger man’s speed and fury, somehow Hawk was always in the right place at the right time.
    Finally the Wulfshead realised he was getting short of breath to no purpose. He roared deafeningly and hurled himself forward, his sword flashing in for the kill . . . and there was Hawk, waiting for him. His axe lashed out in one simple, brutal movement and buried itself in the Wulfshead’s chest. There was a loud cracking sound, as the heavy steel axe head slammed right through the silver chain holding the wolf’s paw, through the outlaw’s breastbone, and deep into his heart. Blood coursed down from the terrible wound, and the Wulfshead stood very still. His hand slowly opened, and the sword dropped from his numb fingers. The blade made a loud noise as it hit the floor, but neither Hawk nor the Wulfshead looked down. They only had eyes for each other.
    The outlaw’s mouth moved. Blood came out of it, and spilled down over his chin. “How . . . ?”
    “The High Warlock made this axe, for the original Hawk,” said Hawk. “It can cut through anything, including magical defences. Like the disguised charm hidden inside a wolf’s paw. This axe