The fight -- The Quest Continues...

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Subject: The fight

Author:
Aragorn

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Date Posted: 22:03:00 05/15/02 Wed

"That's not a broadsword."

The king looked down, Anduril in his hand. "Two handed grip, long blade. If it is not a broadsword what is it?"
"It is the flame of the west, Anduril. The odds are unfair."
Aragorn raised his voice, "bring me another sword then."

The crowds whispered frantically. The sword was the edge the king needed after his injury, if he was denied it; "I said another sword!"

The man Cannayc hurried over, eyes like a deer in a warriors bowsight, a massive blade in his hands. "Where's Vomyr?" Aragorn muttered.
"I do not know my Lord," mumbled the frightened man, gazing fitfully around the stadium.
"Alright Cannayc, you can go."
"Thankyou my lord. And my lord?"
"Yes?"
"Good luck, your majesty."

He turned back to face Deollyn. The new sword heavy in his hands.
"Now before the fight commences I must ask you; is this the course you wish to tred?" The words of custom fell from his lips, feeding him their strength.
"It is my lord."
Aragorn sighed. He had hoped that Deollyn would back down but he had not placed too much on this fruitless hope. With no other options Deollyn could not afford to change his mind.
"Assume the guard posistion," the voice of Beregorn rang through the grounds. Aragorn raised the sword, its tip brushing his nose.
"The fight is till first blood," the captian called. The king frowned; usually trial by combat was till death. Deollyn's face betrayed his shock too, and more frightening a dark anger at this statement. "The winner shall be declared on the side of justice. Let this trial begin.!"

He swung his sword and the sound of metal upon metal echoed over the awed masses.

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