| Subject: The fight |
Author:
Aragorn
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Date Posted: 10:59:34 05/18/02 Sat
Minutes had passed and yet the fight continued, neither one of them making any progress. Aragorn could feel his tired muscles calling to him, the massive sword weighing heavy on them, the sweat building on his forehead.
"I don't want to hurt you," he managed.
"Well then you're in luck." Deollyn called maliously as he brought his sword up in a crescent cut. Hurridly the king blocked it and swung his own blade in definance, the edge grazing the courtiers upper arm but no blood was drawn, the fight was not over yet.
They were both breathing hard now and both sets of eyes were wary as the circled each other slowly, waiting for an opening. Suddenly the man moved, whirling the enormous blade in a lightning fast arc, Aragorn staggered back, the blood running from his forehead.
He had lost.
Turning dejected from the courtier he started to walk back to the stands, trying to block the flow with his sleave.
He had lost. Aragorn's mind was numb as the shout came "Sire, look out!" The king turned in time to see Deollyn lunging foward, manic glint back in his eyes. Quickly Aragorn raised his sword deflecting the blow. Faintly he heard Beregond call "foul!" but no one entered the ring, where the two men circled each other once more.
Aragorn could feel the blood trickling down from the weeping wound. Soon it would obscure his vision but he didn't dare to wipe it away, knowing that in those vital seconds Deollyn would pounce again and this time it could be fatal: there were no rules any more.
Deollyn feinted to the left before sweeping another crescent a Aragorn's right side but the king was prepared and the lethal stroke bounced harmlessly off his own sword. He swept it up and under Deollyn's own, trying to disarm him but the other man knocked his blade away lunging forward towards the kings heart. Neatly Aragorn sidestepped but once again he was not fast enough and the sword whispered in, spliting the king's shirt, creating another line that leaked blood, sapping the strength from his sword arm.
Swiftly he switched the sword to his left hand; it was time to end it. He brought his sword down, under and up, catching Deollyn's hilt and yanking the sword from his hand. It went flying. Swifly Aragorn discarded the sword he could hardly lift and struck out at Deollyn with his left fist. Blood dripped from his broken nose and Deollyn reached up and touched it, staring at his red stained fingers. Aragorn nodded grimly and lashed out savagely with his foot, winding the other man. However he had not time to gloat over this success for soon Deollyn was back on his feet.
A silence filled the grounds.
A silence broken by the whistle of a crossbow bolt which lodged its self firmly in Deollyn's chest.
He stood looking at it for a moment before falling to the ground, the blood from his nose staining the dust.
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