He spoke in a dialect they only
half understood.
'Do not despair, you that remain. Even if this battle is lost, the
marauder cannot last much longer. He defies all that is quietly strong
with every step he takes. Nature will not allow it. His death draws
near.'
With that he turned, and leapt down into the arena behind. Shar-hai was
there ahead of him. And for all their snarling threats and lunges, his
guard could not keep the others from pushing past and up the curving
stone trench that led into the meeting place. One female joined them
there as well.
Akar fought valiantly, summoning all the courage born of despair, and
all the strength and guile he could muster. He fought in the only way
he could---refusing to allow Shar-hai to use his greater size and
strength to advantage. Each time the two would bolt together, rising
from impact with heads writhing and bared teeth crashing, he would slide
off quickly and not be broken back, slashing as he did at the flanks of
the other before retreating. In this way he bought time for Kamela,
holding off the death clash as long as he could.
But soon, as he knew he would, Akar began to tire. His lunges at the
legs and ribs of his opponent had done little damage, while the constant
pounding on his own neck and chest had begun to take its toll.
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