He jabbed his sword through a man's calf as he ducked, buckling him. He used the corpse to defend the poisoned spear points that came his way. And then with a swift toss, he sent the body amongst the ranks of the last handful of men. A stab to the stomach, a fist to the face, and a slash from shoulder to hip. They were dead within moments.
Alistar didn't have the time to be stunned. He saw an exposed back, and like the mercantile man that he'd become after abandoning his knighthood, he launched his attack, in a manner that all his old comrades would have deemed cowards.
Yet Oliver was already there, waiting for him. The second Alistar raised the sword up over his head, he'd sealed his fate. Too many moves had been allowed to Oliver's effect. In a battle with this small a number, that was more than enough. He was beginning to master the flow of combat in the same way that the spider mastered a web. Each movement that Oliver had performed led Alistar to his own certain death.
