[Envinyatar]

Between the feints and retreats, the crashing blows and the skilful parries, Saldan, in a moment of flashing awareness looked deeply into the man’s eyes and saw the fires of life blaze up in them. ‘Here is one also who is not made for the idleness of a simple life. He relishes this as much as I!’

He watched as the man drew him self up on the landing, bringing his blade up once again. Awyrgan stepped back, inviting Saldan down the steps to continue the dance. All traces of wine now burned from him, the Corsair moved like a cat down the steps, his blade pointed at the man, the tip slightly raised.

A sudden furious skirmish, and the swords were knocked from their hands. Knives flashed as they strove against each other. Locked together, as Death stood trembling between them, an enticing mistress waiting to be won. With a great shove, Yr Saldan pushed the man from him, and just as quickly picked up his blade, as did the other.

Again, they circled one another, in tighter theater of the landing this time. Saldan was graceful, his lithe body moving surely and lightly, thrusting and swinging his blade with precision. Awyrgan was powerful, capable of great bursts of speed. Evenly matched, they fought on, until Saldan leaped aside, avoiding a slashing cut to his gut. Slipping his blade beneath the man’s, Saldan took a swipe at the man’s midsection. Awyrgan stepped back and twirled round swiftly, the cutting edge of Saldan’s blade barely missing him. Completing his spin he brought the flat of his blade hard against Saldan’s left flank, throwing him off balance.

Saldan crashed hard against the wall of the landing. Shaking his head to clear the momentary daze he dropped into a defensive stance, his back to the stairwell, then advanced on Awyrgan. He saw the momentary look of disbelief on the man’s face, and smiled. ‘Surely you did not think such a blow as that would overcome me?’

But it was not his advance that had caught Awyrgan off guard. It was the movement from behind the Corsair which startled him. In the heat and focus of battle, Saldan had not heard the steps come swiftly down the stairs. Nor did he at first feel the quick sharp pain as the blade entered him from behind, forcing its slender death between his ribs.

He fell - an O! of surprise on his face, his sword clattering to the ground as his hands tried vainly to hold back that crimson flower now blooming where the sword’s tip had run him through. Awyrgan he noted briefly had stepped back, the point of his blade resting now on the ground.

Saldan turned his face, the shadows already gathering behind his eyes, and beheld the one who had slain him. ‘You! . . .’

And then with a whispered gasp, he was gone . . .

[ March 30, 2003: Message edited by: Envinyatar ]