“Duel”
by ”URN My Power“
Even from dragonback, the mage Ryzel could tell that the village was completely sacked. Smoke billowed into the sky, causing the young mage to cough. His Dragon companion circled the barely-standing castle, coming in against the wind. As his large, taloned feet touched the earth, Ryzel heard the fearful cry of “Dragon” from somewhere within the castle.
“Show some backbone, lads!” another voice said. “There be a kind-faced mage on its back.” As Ryzel dismounted, a battle-weary old soldier emerged from the wreckage. There was just a streak of grey in the man’s hair, and his skin was weathered with life outside. “Hallo, there!” the man called. “I be Liam McLeod, Captain of the Castle Guard.”
“I am the mage Ryzel.” Ryzel replied. “A rider passed by my tower this morning. I thought I could help.”
“It be too late for the village, me boy, but I believe yeh can still save the civilized world, such as it is.”
“Oh?’ Ryzel asked, communicating with a slight movement of his eyes that he was displeased at being called “boy.” The mage was well into his twenties, and the magic in which he had been steeped almost from birth had shaped his body to match its own desires. His chin was gently tapered, his eyes and hair were ice blue, and his fair skin and olive-colored mage’s cassock hid well-formed muscles beneath. Still, the Captain was more than a head taller than him, and Ryzel’s frame was more acrobatic than the stocky, powerful Captain. He had trained in the use of the rapier rather than the broadsword, due to his swifter build, and was able to dance his way out of a sword’s reach as well as any man.
“Aye. Fighters all over the world have tried to stop Fatima and her all-female Horde, but all have met with gruesome death.”
“And what makes you think I’ll be any better?”
“I’ve seen mages cast bolts of lightning from the heavens and summon mage-storms the likes of which weren’t seen by the eyes of man since Lot’s wife looked back.”
“I see.” Ryzel replied. “And just where is this Fatima?”
“Our village is on the western edge of her range.” the Captain said. “She comes and pillages, taking treasure and women with her back to the Far East, where the spices are. She comes back every year at the same time, which, for us, means right after harvest.”
“Let me guess, the women she takes she trains to be part of her all-women Horde?”
“Yeh’ve got it on the first try, sir.” the Captain replied. “Over the past five years, we’ve learned how to keep a couple of secrets from her an’ her marauders. Come.” Ryzel followed Captain McLeod into the castle, where they passed a room where there were a few scattered coins and bits of grain, the leavings of the marauding horde. They entered the central tower and ascended a flight of stairs. Halfway up, the Captain called down to the guards. “Alright, lads, drop the portcullis!” The tower’s portcullis lowered, and the stairway below them rose, revealing a second, wooden stairway that wound down into the lower levels. Ryzel followed the Captain down to a second storage area, this one much larger than the one the raiders saw, and brimming with crops of every kind. A side room housed the treasury, where the gold that had been gleaned from the year’s recovery efforts was stored.
“Clever.” Ryzel said.
“We are willing to give yeh half of all this if yeh can stop this witch.” the Captain said. “She stole from me my one true love in this world, and I intend ta see her head on a stake, I do.”
“A witch, is she?” Ryzel asked, cocking one eyebrow. “A funny word, that. It can be taken three ways, at the least. Since she’s going about marauding and pillaging and such, I deduce that she’s not a follower of Wicca. However, if you mean witch as in the female equivalent of a warlock, then you would need the services of a warlock or an archmage, because they’re a little out of my league. However, from your tone, I’m guessing you mean witch as in the derogatory word for any woman who asserts herself in a way that inconveniences others.”
“Well she could be that second thing.” the Captain replied defensively.
“Did you actually see her doing any magic?” Ryzel asked.
“Aye, that I did.” replied the Captain. “I saw her usin’ a magic belt to make herself as invisible as the shadow of the wind. I saw her use a sword whose blade was pure flame. I saw her wave a magic medallion in front of me ladylove’s eyes to turn her into a bloodthirsty marauder like herself. I don’t even think she recognized me when I tried to stop her from skewerin’ me brother with his own sword.”
“That doesn’t make her a witch.” Ryzel said. “That only means she has access to a magesmith. Now, as for your reward, I’d have a hard time eating half of the half of this food that you’ve offered me before it spoils. I could perhaps use some of the money to purchase some things in the Far East, but a small stipend of food and gold will do. Greed is one of the seven deadly sins, after all. I’ll tell you what: if I put an end to your raider problem, then each month for the next two years you send me a medium purse of gold, a meat animal or two and a basket of bread, and when the deer season arrives you’ll send a leg my way.”
“To your tower? How will we know how to find it?” Ryzel said nothing. He merely watched the Captain’s eyes grow vague as the Dragon outside showed him a Dragon’s-eye view of a river on whose banks rested Ryzel’s tower.
“You know the river?”
“Aye, I know of it.” the Captain replied, a little dazed. “I just needed a moment to recognize it. I’ve never seen it through a Dragon’s eyes before. I’ve never thought of Dragons as being so intelligent.”
“Perhaps that’s why you continue to hunt their kind.” Ryzel said. “If things become much worse for them, they will have to use an ancient spell of disguise and hide among humans.”
“Yeh mean that they could become so scarce that to survive they would take to Pretending?” the Captain asked.
“That’s what I’m saying.” Ryzel replied. “I’ll take my leave now.” Ryzel ascended the steps, and at Captain McLeod’s command, the portcullis was raised and the stairway lowered, permitting them passage to the outside.
They’ve got Dragonbane! exclaimed the Dragon in Ryzel’s head.
Who has? Ryzel asked.
Fatima’s Horde! They’re coming!
Get into the sky and stay out of range. I won’t have you hurt. Ryzel instructed. The Dragon leaped for the sky, flapping his powerful wings and ascending out of sight.
“What’s goin on?” asked the Captain.
“Fatima’s Horde has come back for your hoard.” Ryzel replied.
“One of our spellbound maids must have revealed our deception to Fatima.” the Captain muttered. “She won’t leave a man alive now.”
“Don’t count your corpses before they’re slain, Captain.” Ryzel said. “I’m working on a plan.” He stepped out through the outer portcullis, which was lowered behind him. He walked until the Horde was nearly upon him, then he launched a bolt of lightning from his hands. It struck in front of the lead horse’s hooves, causing it to rear up in panic. Fatima’s name was inscribed in Arabic characters on her saddle—fitting, since Fatima was an Arabic name—and the rider was dressed in Arabic clothing, and men’s clothing at that, with a black leather harem-top the only difference from the traditional vest-and-pants combination favored by the Artabs. Fatima herself, however, was most definitely Oriental. Her almond-shaped eyes glared hatefully at Ryzel from behind the neck of her frightened horse.
“This is a fool’s ploy, mage.” she snarled in Arabic.
“Perhaps.” Ryzel replied in the same language. “But if it will save lives then I’m willing to risk it.”
“Why should you risk your life to save others?”
“Because that’s the way I am.” Ryzel replied. “I don’t fancy thousand to one odds, but how long has it been since you’ve pitted yourself against someone in single combat?”
“You mean a duel?” Fatima asked. “It would be a welcome treat to duel with a mage. I look forward to thrashing you.”
“To the north you will find a river. Follow it eastward until you find my tower. I will be waiting for you there.”
“And through what magic do you intend to get there before me?” Fatima asked. Suddenly, with an explosive sound as matter from one place was transposed with matter from another, Ryzel’s Dragon companion appeared in the sky and scooped him up in his talons. Ryzel felt a sickening lurch as he was tossed to his place between the Dragon’s wings. Ryzel cast an illusion of himself to hover before Fatima.
“If I discover that you have attacked this castle before coming to my tower, I will withdraw my challenge and simply strike you dead where you stand.” his illusion warned.
“So be it.” Fatima replied.
You must be an absolute lunatic, challenging her like that. the Dragon said. She’s a certifiable lethal weapon, and she pulls her own bowstring.
Why such concern, Auryn? Ryzel asked. It seems rather unDragonlike.
I’ve grown accustomed to your presence. Auryn replied with genuine Dragon defensiveness, as one would expect when one was caught in a faux pas.
I’ve grown fond of you, too, old friend. Ryzel thought, in the secret part of his mind which Auryn didn’t listen in on.
Ryzel watched Fatima through his Spell of Watching. Auryn had become disgusted with the way Ryzel simply stared at her in the mystic pool in his tower. He couldn’t help himself. The way her long, dark hair flowed down her back in a waterfall ponytail, the way her backside twitched as she led her horse through the worst of the brush, the way she smiled with her eyes alone when she beheld some sublime piece of natural beauty.
It’ll be a shame to have to cut open that pretty neck. Auryn said derisively. Maybe the situation will come up where you can shove your rapier thrugh her anus and kill her without damaging the beautiful parts.
Be quiet, Auryn. Ryzel thought.
I’ll be quiet when you start being reasonable. Auryn said. Falling in love with your opponent is hardly the way to win a duel, and you getting yourself killed is NOT going to help the people at that castle, or any other for that matter. Nor is it going to free her mind-controlled Horde.
Auryn, you’re a genius! Ryzel said mentally. I’d kiss you if you weren’t so gosh-darn dignified!
Fatima arrived just before dawn, six days after her initial encounter with Ryzel. She wondered what kind of tricks he would use. How did a normal person duel with a mage? A message written in Arabic appeared in the air, written in cold flame. “Come inside. I will guide you to the field of honor.” She walked into the tower, and stepped on an odd circle of light. Suddenly, the drab stone of the tower around her disappeared, and was replaced by the battlements on the roof. The rising sun created a beautiful pallette in the east.
“Greetings, Fatima.” Ryzel said. “Welcome to my humble abode. I’m sorry you didn’t get to see more of it, but I hate waiting.”
“So how will we go about this duel?” Fatima asked.
“Choose your weapon.” Ryzel said. An array of swords appeared before Fatima. Unlike normal swords, their blades were made of pure, white light, much as her own scimitar was made of pure fire. She chose an ornate rapier, and a matching one appeared in Ryzel’s hand. “This will not be a normal duel.” he said. “You knew that the first time you heard me make the challenge. We will battle like we normally would were these ordinary swords, but each vital hit will cause an item of clothing to disappear.”
“What? Go through all this trouble just to see each other naked?” Fatima asked.
“There’s more.” Ryzel replied. “After full nudity is achieved, the final blow will decide the match, and the loser will be at the disposal of the winner, to do with as he or she pleases.”
“Ah, I see now.” Fatima said. “You seek to use that magical sword to transform me into your obedient pet, a docile little toy to mate with whenever you choose.”
“If that’s how you choose to interpret it.” Ryzel said. “You’ve got one chance to say I’m full of shit and go for your scimitar.”
“I came for a duel and I will fight a duel.” Fatima said. “I never had any intention of letting you strike a vital blow anyway.” She charged, slashing with her rapier. She underestimated his reflexes, however. He dodged to the side, catching her off balance. The blade passed through her neck, and her vest was gone. Enraged, she struck back, cutting across his belly. His cassock disappeared, revealing the pantaloons and undershirt beneath. Her boots made a scraping sound on the roof as she shifted to the balls of her feet. He was better than she had thought, and was wearing more than her. She would have to be careful.
Ryzel was fairly worried now. He’d managed to make her hairclip, boots, earrings and pantaloons disappear, but she had done the same to his pantaloons, sandals, undershirt, hat, leggings and jerkin. This left him down to his loincloth, and he still had her top and her undergarments to go. Her lovely legs were quite distracting, and the way the sweat gleamed off her lithe young body only made it worse. He barely managed to parry a torso strike, and managed to get in a slash to her sword arm. It wasn’t a vital hit, but it got her angry. He learned she was a sucker for a false opening, and took advantage of that, striking when she was off-balance and causing her top to disappear. Her unfettered breasts were a real distraction, moreso than the legs had been. Though small, they were quite shapely, and stood out of their own accord, without the need for support. She slashed at his gut and he at hers, and they were both nude. The fight could still go either way. The combatants backed away from each other, each going to a neutral corner to strategize.
Sorry I can’t help you. Auryn said.
Really? You are?
No, I just thought I’d say that to make you feel better. Ryzel laughed. The laughter relaxed him, and he was able to think clearly. He popped the vertebrae in his neck, then popped his knuckles. He was as ready as he would ever be. He returned to the battle, bringing his sword around her guard. She parried, thrusting for his chest, but he dodged. He slashed at her head and she ducked, thrusting at him while he was off balance, but he used his spin to help him avoid her attack. He kicked out with one leg, sending her to the battlements. He tried for false openings, but she had learned only to go for an opening she made herself. She swatted his sword hard, and it went clattering to the stone floor near the battlements. He dove for it, just barely avoiding a lunge. He could feel the change in air pressure as she bore down on him, ready to end the duel then and there. He grabbed his sword and spun before he hit the ground. The blade caught her in the heart, and she froze. The sword dropped from her fingers. Her arms relaxed, followed by the facial muscles. The duel was won, and Ryzel had emerged the victor.
EPILOGUE
Must you humans always be in heat? Auryn demanded. Honestly, sometimes I wish you had a set mating season.
“Where would the fun be in that?” Fatima asked. Ryzel smiled. Fatima was a whole new person since they had travelled to Arabia and the Japans to track down the sorce of her problem...but that was another story.
“What’s the news from France?” he asked, hoping to change the subject.
The English are having trouble with the new French knight. Auryn replied. Word is, some woman is leading the French forces. Joan something.
“Never underestimate a woman.” Ryzel said. “I should know. Now, Auryn, since you’re so offended by human nature, I’m sure you won’t mind giving us some privacy.” Auryn’s forked, reptillian tongue shot out, flicking up and down twice before going back into his mouth. “Don’t stick your tongue out at me.” Ryzel said.
Well, short of roasting you, there’s not much else I can do to stop the endless fornicating, is there?
“Um, no.” Ryzel said.