Cirque DeVante: Chapter Eight: Much A Duel About Something

The long awaited duel arrives. Words are said and swords are crossed!

  Click HERE for Chapter Seven!

The next morning was uncomfortably quiet as Guy prepared for the imminent sword fight, in fact, the three of them hadn’t spoken a word to each other since Nestor and Talia had returned the previous night. There was, after all, nothing to say that would make the situation better or different...and all three desperately needed their sleep. When they awoke Guy left his make up unusually absent, to make a statement, Talia guessed, because he wanted Olivari to remember the destruction he had caused. 

 After eating a light meal of gruel and coffee the three of them proceeded away from the carriage and towards the stated location of the duel, which was only a few hundred yards from their temporary home, to find that it was already teaming with activity. Namely, Percival and Hector Olivari, about twenty guards or members of the military and a notary who produced official papers of  “Dueling Writ” and enforced both parties sign it and swear to abide before proceeding with the activities. Each party was required to give not only the signature of the participant, but that of a witness; and Talia grimaced, looking first at Guy and then at Nestor who said, “Oh, I would sign, but…” And she looked down at her paws which clearly lacked opposable thumbs. 

 Talia sighed and marked the document with her signature stating, “I’m not saying I approve of this, I’m just saying you should do what you think is right.” 

 Guy nodded his thanks to her and she turned away, not wanting him to see how sad all of this truly made her. Before heading out to the center of the makeshift ring Percy approached Guy and, seeing his facial scarring for the first time cried out, “Heavens man! I don’t recall you being quite so hideous, yesterday, what happened to you?”

 Guy smirked, appearing completely unbothered and retorted, “Shaved with a piece of glass this morning.”

 Percy grinned and withdrew his silver rapier, “Certainly what it looks like.” Then he turned and strode out into the middle of the field.

 Guy withdrew his own sword and went to follow after him, but Talia called out, “Guy, wait!” 

 He turned and she ran up to him, debating whether or not she should reach out and touch him before saying, “Be careful...please.”

 He grinned at her, “Don’t worry about me, you should be worried for him.”

 She chuckled dryly, “I’m not worried about you...at least, not your life...I’m worried about how easy this is for you.”

 “Not easy. Necessary.”

 She nodded slowly, “So there’s no chance I can talk you out of it?”

 He shook his head, “Not even close.”

 She paused, unsure, then reached out and touched his face, tracing her finger along his scar from brow to nose, “This...is beautiful,” she said, emphasizing the word.

 And, although he had the sudden instinct to pull away, he, instead, just stood there, eyes locked with hers as she continued, “This is not a scar to be ashamed of...but a symbol of sacrifice. And I will never forget that broken, bloodied boy who found me in the kitchen cabinet.” She shook her head, “You’ll simply never know what that means to me.” She then dropped her hand and turned away, but as she walked off it was Guy’s turn to call out to her, “Talia.” 

 She spun and stared at him, eyes wide. And he looked at her, fumbling over his words, as if he knew what he wanted to say, but didn’t know if he could say it. Finally he forced out, “In case I never told you…” He paused and swallowed. “You are a wonder and a delight.” 

 She smiled at him and he followed after Percy, waving his sword through the air, twirling his wrists in circles to loosen them up. 

 Nestor sat back, watching this exchange with an open mouth, shocked, but also, somehow, expecting more. 

 Guy and Percy faced each other in the center of the ring, preparing to start the duel when Percy noticed that Talia was looking directly at Nestor and not paying attention to the two of them. Percy seized his chance and leaned forward, trying to bait Guy, saying, “By the way, your girlfriend is a real whore.” He gave him a wicked smile, relishing the word. 

 But Guy did not respond as expected, his smile didn’t falter, his mask didn’t break, he simply switched his sword to his left hand and said, “Then I hope you haven’t forgotten what we talked about.” 

 The notary, who was also serving as a referee of sorts, stood some feet away from them and raised a bulky, flintlock pistol into the air yelling, “Now, let the duel begin!” And then he fired. 

 Guy and Percy slowly moved toward each other like they were in some kind of deadly dance and began to clash swords. Guy slashed from right to left, as he approached, attempting to cut across Percy’s chest, but Percy parried it away and made for his own lunge. Guy swept it aside and they continued like this for a few moments, feeling each other out, nothing decisive, but rather a series of back and forth tests, almost as if they were playing a game of tag, but they were both “it”. 

 Talia watched on from the sidelines, having found a wooden bench that was a courtesy of the fairground keepers and Nestor sat on the ground beside her, giving the fighters a curious look as she cocked her head to the side, “Oh, that’s interesting, I didn’t know Guy was left handed.”

 Talia looked down at her, morose, “He isn’t.” 

 Nestor looked up at her confused, “But, then, why would he…?”

 She looked out and saw Guy grinning ear to ear as they danced back and forth across the battlefield, Guy slowly losing ground, drawing Percy, who appeared ever more confident, in his direction, and suddenly it hit her, “Oh!” She exclaimed, now frowning, “Oh, Guy is being a very bad man!” 

 Talia nodded adamantly, “Yes, he is!”

 Percy pressed Guy backwards so far that the ring of guards surrounding them had to expand, slightly, to accommodate and she glanced over at the inspector, sitting on another bench, who, for the first time that morning, looked rather hopeful. He suddenly got a big grin on his face as Percy, to his credit, performed a fairly masterful, back handed stroke and just barely clipped Guy across his right shoulder. It was barely more than a nick, but it had happened and it appeared that Guy had attempted to block the slashing sword, but was just a moment too slow. 

 Talia then jumped up, furious. She was so sick of whatever this had turned into and, though she was upset with all of this reignited drama, she found she was mostly mad at Guy for playing into it. She could deal with his attention hogging and all his annoying little oddities, but she could not handle him being this careless, and now he had gone too far and let himself get hurt. She smacked her thigh and yelled out, “Guy!” At the top of her lungs.

 He stepped back and glanced her direction, still wearing that ear splitting grin, but she glared back at him, righteous fury in her eyes. She pointed at him and shook her finger in anger, “End this! Now!”

 His smile faded and it was replaced with a stone-cold vacancy. He now wore the face of a killer. He switched the sword back to his right hand and stepped forward to meet Percy once more. And it took all of five seconds. Five seconds to throw a moulinet and three follow up slashes, knocking the young lord’s rapier out of hand and then lunging at the surprised, off-balanced Percy, who stumbled backwards, completely exposed to the last, oncoming, blow. 

 Guy’s sword plunged into the man’s body, piercing him directly through the heart and Percy dropped to his knees, making a sort of curious groaning sound. He opened his mouth and blood spilled out of it, dripping down, past his lips, and mixing with the blood starting to flow out of his chest. He grasped the blade in his hands and grunted, trying to speak, but no words came out, only more blood. 

 Guy stood there, blade impaling the kneeling Percy, and he turned his gaze away from the young man and sought out his father. Their eyes met and Olivari, who surely knew Percy was already dead, but held onto some delusional hope of survival, saw something final and terrible in Guy’s face and he suddenly jumped up, holding out his hand, screaming, “Don’t!”

 But that’s exactly what Guy was waiting for and, no sooner had Olivari stood up, then Guy withdrew the sword from Percy’s chest and slashed it across his throat, opening up a giant tear right under his chin. 

 Percy slumped to his side, eyes and mouth gaping, bleeding profusely from his chest, face and neck.    Talia watched on with the rest of the crowd, mingling shock and horror, trying to understand exactly what had just happened and then it hit her; Guy had really done it, he had made good on a promise and cut out Percy’s Sydding throat. Guy turned away from the body and pulled out a handkerchief from his left breast pocket, wiping the blood off his rapier as he walked to the edge of the stunned, silent ring.   He sauntered toward Olivari like a cat cornering his prey and then, sheathing his sword, he bent down and tried to look the red faced Olivari in the eyes. The inspector’s face was downcast, however, staring at his shoes as hot tears fell and his body quivered with silent rage. 

 Guy just stood there, for a moment, looking at him, face mere inches away and then he spoke in that vicious little growl he could only make when he was truly good and angry. “Look at me,” he said. 

 But the inspector didn’t seem to hear, he just sat there, involuntarily shaking with anger as he fixated on the ground beneath his feet. 

 “Look at me, Inspector.” 

 Olivari looked up and stared at Guy with nothing left, but hatred, in his eyes.

Guy searched his face and, satisfied there remained only hatred, spoke just three words, uttering them slowly, deliberately, drawing each word out like the infinite message it was. “Now we’re even,” he said. Then, standing up straight, he turned around and walked away.

 Click HERE for Chapter Nine! Season Finale!