A Drink Before Battle [M/M] ✅

11: Over The Line

"You're not afraid to fight him, are you, General?" one of the officers at the fence called out.

Kahan's face went pale, her eyes widening.

"I know Your Lordship's trainers were probably too scared of your dad to give you a proper ass-kicking like ours gave us," another soldier said, laughing, "but didn't you see him fall on his butt just now? He shouldn't give you any trouble."

"Don't be too hard on him, he only knows how to throw around his magic."

"We could hold him down for you like that bandit..."

"That's enough!" Sevei roared, rounding on the soldiers. "All of you!"

Urskatha was approaching swiftly now, his face as dark and icy as winter storm clouds.

"Don't mind them," Sevei said to him, stepping into his path. "They'll be disciplined."

Urskatha pushed him aside, staring hard at Yanek. "You stay out of it," he said calmly. "He's given me the challenge, hasn't he?"

Yanek cocked his head and gave Urskatha an ingratiating smile. "I just wanted you to throw some magic at me so I could practice getting around it," he explained.

"That's not going to happen," Urskatha informed him. He kicked Yanek's sword that was still lying on the ground after his tumble. "Pick it up."

"This is not..." Sevei began. Yanek hushed him.

"No, it's fine, Vei. I'd like to see what he's got, wouldn't you?"

Against his better judgment, Sevei retreated to the fence, glaring at the crowd there, which was growing now in anticipation of the coming spectacle.

Urskatha and Yanek took up positions and began to circle one another. Yanek took a wary measure of his opponent. It was clear that Urskatha had a mail shirt of his own under his black tunic, as well as a few strategically placed pieces of metal plate. If this were a real fight, Yanek would be looking for vulnerable openings in his armor, but this was only a spar. He took a few testing shots at the man, seeking an opportunity to disarm him, or sweep him off his feet.

Urskatha moved like a cat, with graceful precision, dodging each strike with an almost bored indifference, whereas Yanek had to contend with the imbalance of this new armor. Urskatha suddenly threw himself all in. Their swords met with a resounding crash, locking together between them as Urskatha's full weight pressed forward, pushing him backwards.

Yanek leaned in, attempting to keep his ground and looking for a way out of the hold. Urskatha's weight tilted Yanek's body in such a way that the mail shirt shifted to his right side, pulling down on his right shoulder. In another split second, Urskatha swept his arm out, and Yanek's sword went flying while Urskatha brought the hilt of his own sword up and smashed it into Yanek's face.

"Yield!" Yanek called out through the blinding pain, doubling over with both hands held over his nose, blood running freely between his fingers.

Sevei rushed over, anger seeming to precede him in a wave.

"Enough!" he ordered, staring daggers at Urskatha as he went to Yanek's aid. "This is just a spar, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Urskatha gave an arrogant smirk, sheathing his sword as he turned to walk briskly off of the field. Sevei turned to Yanek.

"It's alright," Yanek assured him. He stood and tilted his head back, pinching his nose as the blood continued to flow. "I'm fine," he said, his voice stuffed and murky, "I don't think it's even broken. Yeah, that's just fine."