Harry Potter and the Berserker

Chapter 5

Sounds of steel clashing against each other filled the courtyard of the barracks. Different members of the Band of Hawk had taken to sparring with one another to keep their skills as sharp as their blades, and Harry found himself being one of them. True to his word, the blacksmith had forged a short sword and breastplate for him within the week. He was told it was nothing special, but Harry didn't mind; they were the closest things to gifts he had ever received. Dudley could probably only wish to have a sword of his own one day.

The armor felt a bit snug under his armpits, but Casca had told him that all new armor felt that way and that he just had to break it in as best he could. The sword however, was a much different feeling. Mainly it was much heavier than he was expecting it to be. To compensate for that fact, Harry found it easier to grip the hilt with both hands; it was much easier to swing around that way. But not easy enough to the point where he was able to get a hit on his opponent.

Judeau was armed with a basic sword as well and was blocking and parrying all of his attacks seemingly without flaw. Going for an almighty attack, Harry lifted the sword above his head, ready to knock the blade from Judeau's hand. As he charged his opponent, Judeau sidestepped the attack, and stuck his foot out in Harry's path. As expected, he tripped.

Groaning slightly, Harry pushed himself back up and was met with the sight of Judeau offering him a hand. He took it. "You alright?" Judeau asked, once Harry was back on his feet.

"Yeah, I think," Harry answered, rubbing a sore spot by his chin. "I didn't know tripping was allowed though."

"I never said it wasn't," Judeau countered. "Your opponent won't always play fair, remember that."

Harry nodded. "I will. And thank you, for training me. You're really good."

"Hm, I suppose," Judeau admitted. "But swordplay isn't really my forte. I'm more of knives guy." He patted his bandolier for emphasis. "If you want to see real swordplay, just watch Guts in action."

A scornful "Tch!" cut its way into their conversation. Leaning against a wall, watching them practice was Corkus.

"Something to add, Corkus?" Judeau asked.

""Real Swordplay?" Corkus parroted. "That big idiot?" He scoffed again. "Please, he has muscle and a large sword, but that doesn't mean he's the best. Griffith can cut down just as many men as him, and do it in a more graceful way." Corkus looked directly at Harry. "Speed over size any day. And swords will only get you so far. What happens if someone's shooting at you, huh? I'll show you. Hey, Rickert! Bring me a crossbow!"

Running from across the courtyard, Rickert obeyed without hesitation. Corkus took the weapon and pointed it towards two other Hawks sparring with each other. "Hey! Unless you want to be target practice, move out of the way!" Corkus shouted to them. They quickly stepped aside so Corkus had a clear shot at the target behind them.

"Watch and learn," Corkus smirked as he fired the bolt. It struck true, hitting just an inch from the center target. "Not bad right?!" Corkus boasted with a wiry smile. "If the sun wasn't in my eyes I would have nailed that bull's-eye. A quick look at the sky showed that the sun was in fact behind him.

"Uh...," Harry began, but Rickert was quick to whisper in his ear.

"Please, let him have this. He'll be in a mood the rest of the day if you do. He just likes showing off to the new additions."

Corkus continued to boast. "When's the last time you've seen that idiot do something like that?"

"I can't say that I have," Judeau admitted. "But why not ask him to give a demonstration?"