The Hand of the Princess

[LT Sandpaw]

  Rolling onto his front Captic rested, breathing in great gulps of air as he pounded the ground with his gloved paw. Stupid, fool, imbecile! That had been his chance to not only walk away alive, honor intact, but with the princess' paw in marriage as well. Grinding his teeth Captic looked towards the royal box, his eyes blinking the dust away as he focused on Leana's worried features.

Her cry had saved Fenric from death, and the damage it did to Captic was far greater than any destruction wrought by steel. Casting one last glance of betrayal towards Leana, the squirrel count staggered to his footpaws, his eyes confused and unfocused. He cast about locating his sword across the dueling grounds, but standing between himself and the blade was Fenric, already rearmed.

Captic took an uncertain step forward. "Here's your chance knight " He spat out the final word, spreading his arms wide to reveal a larger target, growing more brazen with each sentence. "Prove to me and her highness you truly have no honor, and end this fight. Unless you would rather continue, step aside and allow me to collect my blade. I cannot best you, but I will not yield!"

[Wylder Treejumper]

Any reluctance Sir Fenric had had was gone by the time the Count had finished speaking. He sheathed his sword elegantly and stepped to the side, having noted for the first time the fact that the Count's sword was behind him.

He spoke quietly, just loud enough for the Count to hear. "Be you warned, milord, that this is one duel I cannot lose. It is not permissible. I do not want to kill you. I have seen enough battle to know that the life of every creature is precious." He lifted his chin slightly, gesturing towards Captic. "If I wanted you dead, you would have been dead in the second bout. Even just now, you would not have been able to kill me, had you truly attempted to. But if I must, I will worst you. Too much depends on this, beyond you or I or the Princess." He leaned forward, a glint in his eye. "You have made a grave mistake, Count Flint. When you challenged me to a duel, you believed it was about you. But it has become something far larger than you are."

His piece said, he stepped back, removed his helmet, and placed it to one side of the ring. Once again he drew his sword, settled into a ready stance, and raised sword in the formal salute. Fatigue lay heavy on his limbs, but his face was as clear as starlight and calmer than a lake at midsummer. Only the fire of determination burning in his eyes shared the quiet intensity that lay in his words.

[LT Sandpaw]

"Don't overplay your sensibilities on the matter sir knight, you can die and err as any other beast can. Had it not been for the lady's cry you would be walking at the dark forest's gates even now. This is nothing more than a duel of honor, though I do admit I underestimated your abilities at my own cost." Leveling his sword at Fenric, Count Flint advanced, knowing this could very well be walking straight towards his demise. A deep sense betrayal burned in his veins, while despair churned in his stomach waging an inner conflict. Pushing aside his feelings Captic raised his sword, preparing to strike.

"You speak as if this proves something. Perhaps you think that peasantry could be something more than the filth they are. Is that the end goal, which is larger than you and I and the princess? You are fooling yourself in that regard, this changes nothing."

Captic's blade, slow from exhaustion, swept down upon the knight like a pendulum in a last ditch effort to break Fenric's guard. The squirrel count's teeth were set and he bullied forward with the last of his strength, determined to make a last good go of it.