With a boot, Zilan tried something else. Another blow from elsewhere. He attempted to kick Oliver free from his stirrups, and off his horse. It was a juvenile attack, but given the weight of Zilan and his strength, it stung. Straight into the leg, the blow went. Zilan grinned. Then the second strike came, and Oliver's leg moved with it.
He snaked his smaller leg around Zilan's knee, and clamped it in place, squeezing down. It was a dangerous thing to do, with the two horses playing tug of war between them. The slightest wrench, and he was likely to pull the limb out of the socket.
'Damn it…' Zilan cursed, frowning his confusion. With every new tactic he tried against Oliver, the boy seemed to solve it more quickly than the last. He was dragging the two of them ever closer to what seemed to be a draw – and a draw was exactly what he was after.
AWOOOOOOOOoooooo
