Will switched the saxe to his left hand. The moment he did, Bacari tossed the dagger back to his right. And laughed.
‘You’re not very good at this,’ he said.
‘I used to watch a man who …’ Will began and then, without warning or hesitating in his speech, he threw the saxe left-handed, an underarm spinning throw.
It was an old trick Halt had taught him years ago. When you’re overmatched, deception and distraction are your best friends. Begin to speak. Say anything. Your opponent will expect you to finish the statement, but act before you do. Chances are, you’ll catch him napping.
But Bacari knew the trick too. He had used it himself, many times. And now he simply stepped to one side and the saxe went spinning past him. He laughed.
He was still laughing when Will’s throwing knife, drawn and thrown the moment the saxe had left his hand, buried itself in his heart. He looked down and saw it for a fraction of a second before his sight went black and his legs collapsed underneath him.
‘I don’t need you alive any more,’ Will said coldly.

Halt's Peril, Chapter 40