Readying his sabre, Richard edged into the mill.
Its machinery still grinding grain, pistons of the traction engine hissing up from beneath, millions of pieces of grain flowing down a chute into a large container.
Suddenly, Edward dropped down from above, taking his opponent by surprise, the tip of his sword digging into his back.
“Dead once more dear brother….” He stated with some arrogance.
Roaring, Richard turned; his sabre crashing with his brothers who took a defence position, for every step forward taken another was taken backwards, as the two warring brothers returned into the day light.
Frustration fuelled Richard’s strikes, hacking at his brother’s sword held in defence no matter where he intended to strike it was awaiting.
Their battle waged across the meadow leading down to the grand estate below, remaining in the same forwards backwards positions until, out stepping him, Edward switched into attack.
Attempting to match every strike became a daunting challenge, his lesser experience of sword fighting unlike his older brother with battle experience and training from one of the finest swords men in Europe, Senior Philippe Magrass.
His strikes held little force, allowing him to easily pull back his right arm with ease and make another lunging attempt, whilst his brother’s over concentration he found delightfully amusing.
“Dear brother.” Edward cried, panting for breath. “There’s one secret Philippe taught me…during the battle it could give you a key advantage.”
Battling off another strike, Richard awaiting for the next one replying hastily. “I wonder…wonder what that may be…”
Just then, with his attention drawn between anticipating the next direction of his brother’s blade, replying and focusing on his foot work, Edward’s left foot kicked his brothers, crossing both feet he fell backwards.
Grasping his sword as it fell from his grip, Edward watched as Richard tumbled down the hillside, backward rolling at first until he managed to switch into a barrel role.
A great splash of water erupted into the air, followed by the disappearance of Richard.
Suddenly a hand appeared on the embankment, then another, before Richard’s body lifted out of the water, drenched head to toe with pond leafs stuck to him.
Finding a pair of women’s feet in front of him, he looked upwards, finding a friendly face gazing down at him with a delightful smile.
“Oh hello Molly…” He said cheerful, blowing water from his top lip.
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