Caltrop

With one of the most exquisite sounds in the world, D’s blade was
parried by the longsword the figure wielded. Like the scattering sparks, the
two faces grew fainter and farther apart.

At the same time they landed, a series of noises echoed in the space
between them. Iron caltrops the figure had launched in midair as he gripped
his sword in his teeth had intercepted the needles thrown by D.

Each caltrops was a mass of iron spikes radiating out in all directions.
Though traditionally spread across the ground by ordinary huntsmen or
Hunters specializing in land-bound beasts, with practice they might be used
as missiles. An expert could hurl three in a single second and pack them in
a two-inch-wide bull’s-eye from a distance of some thirty feet. When
coupled with the horrendous strength unique to the Nobility, caltrops could
achieve the stopping power of a magnum gun—a weapon renowned for its
ability to pierce the armor of greater dragons.

A streak of crimson coursed down D’s left cheek.
But the shadowy figure who’d dealt the wound slammed on the brakes
as well. He backed off. Perhaps the moon finally peeping through the bank
of clouds had revealed to the figure the fact the left hand he held over his
face had lost its thumb clear down to the base.
The opponents held their longswords at eye level, in the tradition of
Asian fencers. Preparing for battle, neither moved.

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