Hal - The Duellist #1

Chapter Five - Preparations

Finn was worried. Hal was already at the academy when he arrived that morning, grimly repeating a series of cuts, thrusts and parries. She trained in silence, submitting to exhaustion only when evening fell. He made some futile efforts to engage her in conversation, but she responded with shrugs and grunts. Eventually he gave up, resorting to a few terse comments on her technique. Finn reasoned she would drink away the evening with her friends in the city or with Marc, and overcome her poor humour. But the following day she returned to repeat the process.

"Hal!" he yelled out in sudden frustration.

It was early evening and she was showing no sign of relenting. The tell-tale shadows around her eyes indicated that she had not slept. Nor did she appear to have a hangover, which meant that she had spent the evening alone.

"Hal, stop would you?"

"What?" She turned to face him. Her eyes flashed with irritation.

"If you carry on like this, you'll exhaust yourself beyond repair. There are only a few days yet before your duel with the Easterner."

"I know what I'm doing." She turned her back on him and continued.

It wasn't the first time he had seen her like this. Only a few months ago she had trained for two solid weeks, twelve hours a day. She hadn't even bothered to return home, spending the nights curled up on a sleeping mat on the academy floor. Eventually, Finn learned from Beric that Cara had been amongst the spectators during a public duel. Hal had lost, and the courtier walked away in satisfaction, a richer woman.

He tried again. "Just tell me what's wrong, Hal. How can you fight if your mind is troubled?"

"Nothing is wrong, I tell you!" She hurled her sword to the floor before stalking from the hall and out onto the street. Disturbed by the argument, Beric emerged from his tiny enclave just as Finn turned to follow her. The old duelling master laid a hand upon his deputy's shoulder.

"Just let her alone, lad. There's no point in trying to smooth her out. Whatever the problem is, she'll be back. Where else can she go?"

He was right, for Hal returned an hour later, wordlessly pulling a sword from the rack to resume her practice. She spent another night on the academy floor. Finn worried himself sick that her duel would be ruined through nerves and exhaustion, but decided to keep his thoughts to himself. As was so often the case, she would have to learn the hard way.

***

It was a fine summer's morning in the market place. The stall holders tended their wares, shouting to customers with promises of the freshest fruit, the finest wines and the most succulent meats from across the entire empire. Shoppers moved from table to table, commenting upon a particular bargain here, an unusual delicacy there: haggling with the sellers, or settling on a deal.

Meracad followed in Agata's footsteps as her maid cut a meandering route amongst the vendors and street-hawkers, occasionally stopping to admire a swathe of rich material or to inhale the scents of a new perfume which had arrived from the South. Agata dabbed a few drops upon her wrist and held it to her mistress's face. Meracad smiled as she closed her eyes, the scent evoking the exotic spices and jasmine of the Yegdanian provinces.

"Like it, Miss?"

"It's delicious." Meracad opened her eyes again and was back in the market place. "I'll buy it for you if you want."

Agata's round, ruddy face beamed with pleasure. "Well, thank you, Miss. I'll wear it when I attend the duelling next."

Meracad turned to her in surprise, alert to the sudden quickening of her own heart. "The duelling? Since when did you interest yourself in such things, Agata?"