this is a piece i've sorta been working on for some time. unlike most of my work, it's in the fantasy (sword & sorcery) genre

this is an incomplete work of fiction. all rights reserved.

ed



Steel rang against steel as we both maneuvered around the great hall to gain higher ground. David was taller, had more leverage and knew it, so as our blades remained locked, he was able to force me back more steps than I wanted.

I thought quickly. David had the physical advantage in this match due to his height and strength, as he always did, so to be the victor I would have to out-think him.

Then it came to me: something so simple, so elementary that it would never work if David was fully in control of his faculties.

I spun away, letting the force behind his blade lead him to fall after it as the resistance disappeared unexpectedly. He stumbled, taking two more steps to try to recover his balance. By then however, I was on him before he could swing his oversized sword back into a useful defense. His entire back was exposed as he tried to regain his footing.

I drove my blade between his shoulder blades just as he recovered from that fateful second step.

As I wrenched my sword out, his hand jerked awkwardly and I saw his weapon fall, tip-first, from his grasp. I walked around in front of him. His life's blood dripped from my blade to the flagstones with every even, measured step I took.

His eyes were transfixed on some invisible point until I came into view. A dim spark of recognition registered in his eyes as he fell to one knee.

His jaw jerked several times, until finally he gasped, "Fi--Fiona..."

Then he fell to his other knee.

I made a quick cutting motion with my blade, removing most of the blood in a splatter that was lost in the carnage of the guards already on the stone floor upon which I alone remained standing.

Raising my weapon, I grimaced for a moment, remembering happier times. I looked him in the eye, and I could see that he was doing the same.

I let the weapon fall and looked away, trusting to my ears to tell me that his body and head fell in different directions. Exhausted, I let the hilt slip out of my hand and heard rather than saw it clatter to the floor. It rang loudly, hollowly, against the scorched stone walls

I knelt beside his body and wiped my weapon on his tunic, taking care to make sure it was clean before sheathing it.

Such evil times that would pit brother against sister.