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“Do not move your feet so much,” Horatio said, tapping Hamlet’s boot with the tip of his sword. “You are not at a ball.”
Hamlet laughed, sweeping a semicircle across the line of the piste with his left foot and ducking into an elegant bow. “There is more than one way to duel, Horatio.” He straightened his back and leveled his head.
“For the deuce, perhaps,” Horatio parried, beckoning Hamlet forward with a duck of his rapier. “But neither for the dunce. And mind your feet, my lord.”
Hamlet advanced twice. Horatio bobbed his blade, spinning the tip in controlled circles no larger than the width of his palm. “Are those the only options, devil and fool?” Hamlet asked, knocking aside Horatio’s initial attack with an easy beat parry. Horatio feinted, circling beneath his blade and striking the center of Hamlet’s guard.
“Perhaps for you,” Horatio said, smiling as he returned to his line. “I told you to hold your feet.”
“I did,” Hamlet countered. He returned to his lines and called the next assault. Horatio retreated three steps behind his line and waited, his dagger held in a firm ice pick grip. “But it made no difference.” Hamlet advanced quickly and swiped out to the side.
“It should have,” Horatio replied, “but you did not match action with intent. You kept your feet still, but not your legs.” Horatio sunk into a mimic of Hamlet’s own garde. “You betray each step before it is made.” He demonstrated with a rapid bend of the knee before executing a fleche past Hamlet and jogging back to his line.
“I do no such thing," Hamlet replied. He planted his heels, bouncing twice from the knees knocking a few experimental swipes at the air. Quarte, quinte, a quick balestra, and back to en garde.
Horatio beat Hamlet’s blade near the hilt. "Perhaps not so intensely as I have shown, but it is done.” He struck out with a raddoppio, advancing and lunging to swipe wide at Hamlet’s arm. Hamlet flicked at the inside of the blade with his dagger and riposted. Horatio pulled his arm in, only barely evading the attack. “Court fighters need not be so careful as street fighters, my lord,” Horatio said, “for we must learn tells of those who mean us harm and are well equipped to do it.”
“You have never had a fight in your life, I’d wager,” Hamlet teased, circling him on light feet. He kicked out his front foot, sinking into a deep lunge and following with the rapier.
Horatio deflected the blade and turned to the side, striking with a quarter lunge, following quickly by an advance and a full attack. “Respects, my good lord, but you have known me only in a scholar’s robes.”
“I have known you out of them as well,” Hamlet replied. “Known you well.”
Horatio blushed and ducked his head. He smiled almost shyly, not losing an inch in the bout. “You misconstrue." Hamlet swept wide and cut close along Horatio’s dagger with his own. A teasing blow. A challenge. Hamlet grinned.
"I reconstrue.” Hamlet said. “In fact, my good Horatio, I have of late construed with present company, and not in scholar’s robes.” He set his stance and concentrated on stilling his legs before the first of his lunges at Horatio’s open right side.
Horatio laughed a familiar, long-suffering laugh and stepped out of Hamlet’s first attack. “I mean something else entirely.”
“The meaning is lost,” Hamlet replied, continuing the attack, “for I have quite distracted myself." Horatio ducked the attack, planting his sword hand on the floor with the crossbars pressed beneath his palm, and rotated his wrist to deflect Hamlet’s sword.
"Passatta!” Hamlet declared, riposting. “You’ve been practicing without me.”
“I wouldn’t dare, my lord,” Horatio replied. He bound Hamlet’s rapier in a liement, striking down the side with the dagger in a firm glissade and spinning to trap Hamlet’s own small blade against his own back.
“I don’t remember learning that play,” Hamlet smirked, turning his head to Horatio.
Horatio breathed a laugh against Hamlet’s nape. “I have read on the subject. Books are a veritable treasure.” Horatio reached around Hamlet’s arm to tap him gently with the flat of the dagger. “Point.”
“You have the second touch,” Hamlet conceded, pushing against Horatio’s chest with his bound arm. “Are you sure you have not found another sparring partner?”
Horatio laughed. “I should not tell you their names, even if I had. You would surely attempt to fight for my honor, and I could not bear to lose you.”
“Are you so sure that I would not win?” Hamlet asked.
“Fairly sure, my lord.” Horatio released Hamlet from his grip.
Hamlet shook out the muscles in shoulders. “Have you such little love for my skill, Horatio?”
Horatio laughed, following Hamlet back to his line. “Honesty, my lord,” Horatio jibed, sheathing his dagger in his belt. “Else I should be misconstrued. Though,” he paused, sliding his rapier into his scabbard with a long stroke, “I can conceive of worse fates.”