Chapter 18

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King Konrad could not understand why Prince Haroun demanded that the duel take place as soon as they crossed the border. They were still in sight of the border castle! It would suit him to have it there but to the Reideaux King, the courtyard of Ira Castle seemed the more appropriate place. Then he could leave the tiresome Prince with his company, and ride back to Frencolia. That way this Bavarest prince would not know of his return.

"Let's go out of sight of the Frencolian towers. But no further," Prince Haroun said, then, "I want to get it over while we are not too tired from riding."

Konrad agreed.

Choosing a reasonably flat area on the north of the mountains, the king and the prince dismounted and each gathered with their respective companies to discuss the duel. They began debating about the rules.

"No protective clothing —and the first to break the skin," declared one of Haroun's men; he knew his master's wish to lose the duel and did not want the crown prince to sustain too great an injury.

"What? Afraid of too much blood?" one of Konrad's men taunted; only to have the king's closest man, Vincenz, hiss, "It's also our king's blood too that you're not afraid of spilling so freely, Kell."

"The first to draw blood," Konrad asserted. "I've never heard of a duel where one did not see a little blood." He smiled wryly and swallowed. Not that Konrad felt afraid, he was a little apprehensive though. As Luke had reminded him —the last time he seriously used a sword was against the murderer, Elliad, who, with the help of his men —four against one, had won, almost killing him. Haroun was above comparison.

Haroun is a king's son, an only son... his value is more than mine... I'm the fourth son and a reject. He frowned, remembering his unexpected kingship. Reideaux is important to me. Who will reign if I die? Then he thought of Jobyna. He dueled for her. One less in the race gave him more chance of winning. And this Bavarest prince had started it all. Because of Haroun, the betrothal had been cancelled. Had it not been for this prince, then he, Konrad, would be betrothed now. As the king prepared for the duel by stripping to his tunic and bare feet, he told himself to show Haroun no leniency but rather than injure the prince, he would use every tactic he knew to disarm him. Then, without his sword, Haroun would be declared the loser.

Luke's words reverberated in Konrad's mind; "No one who draws blood will marry her."

He declared, "If one of us is disarmed, the other will be declared the winner!"

Haroun did not answer but stepped toward Konrad, his sword extended.

Their clashing of blades sounded out. The spectators cried out in support of their respective champions. Haroun was on the defense and it was some strokes before Konrad realized the prince was blocking his attack, he was not on the offensive. This became clearer when Konrad's sword slid along Haroun's; protected by the hilt, Haroun stepped backwards as though waiting for the sword to pierce his hand, or cut into his arm. Konrad hedged a little then, to prove to himself exactly what Haroun's tactics were about.

He wants me to win; Konrad concluded, but perhaps he's teasing me, trying to make me falter or do something rash... Try as he could, Konrad could not dislodge Haroun's hold on the sword; the prince was so intent on blocking the blows.

On Haroun's part, he had never dueled before, even in play, without trying to best his opponent. It was impossible for him to allow Konrad to better him, to wound him; his instinct was to prevent that happening. My arm or my leg would be tolerable but not my face or my chest. The prince defended his body and face from Konrad's sword.

Konrad lowered his sword. Haroun did not attack. The two men perspired profusely in the heat of the noon-day sun and from their futile efforts to achieve their separate goals. Konrad did not wish to deride the prince on his lack of assault so he tried to imagine why Haroun wanted to lose. Perhaps all he wants, is war. His heart cried, Oh, God! Help me disarm him. It was the first-time Konrad had prayed about this duel; and now, even in the heat of the duel, he wondered if praying now was prayer too late. I haven't even asked God if I should be doing this! God, help me disarm him... let there be no bloodshed, and I will make sure I do pray to you before I get into a dilemma like this again. If my prayer is too late then... it's over already...

The men circled each other warily. Again, the clashing of swords resounded in the hot air. Konrad again took the offensive, forcing Haroun backwards down the slope towards an uneven, rock-strewn piece of ground. Haroun winced at the feel of sharp stones under his bare feet and at the same time Konrad gave an unexpected forceful upward thrust. Haroun's sword flew from his hand, up into the air before clattering to the stony ground some yards away. A cheer rose from the spectators. Konrad, his sword now pointed at the prince's chest, smiled brightly, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief as he asked "Where do you want it Haroun? You sure have been asking for it!"

"Just get it over," Haroun said darkly.

Konrad lifted his sword high in thanksgiving; his prayer had been answered. One part of him felt elated and he cried, "The Lord be praised! We won't shed blood —but we'll have one less prince in our race!"

Backing away from Haroun with his sword outstretched, Konrad retrieved the fallen sword. "I believe I own your sword!" He claimed, examining it closely. The hilt was embedded with precious stones.

"The rules were, the first to draw blood!" one of Haroun's men called.

"Pity none of you countered my spoken rule to disarm," Konrad said, smiling. "It would be a bit difficult to draw blood now. What shall you use, Haroun? Your teeth? Wouldn't that be a bit unmanly?" At Haroun's scowl, Konrad stepped back to him, pointing at his chest with both swords, asking softly, "Why did you want me to win?"

Haroun glanced uneasily at their eavesdroppers, saying, "You'll find out. I'm returning to Frencolia."

Like a stab within his broad chest, Konrad's heart leapt at Haroun's words. "What? Why?"

Haroun smiled, saying, "You jump to the wrong conclusion, Konrad. My heart was never with Princess Jobyna. She was my second choice. But I thought my lady was dead."

Konrad blinked. "Corissa? You mean that murderer's sister, Corissa?" The king could not see how such a comparison could be made. Jobyna was second to none! Realizing with great relief that Haroun was well and truly out of the race, Konrad smiled again. "Shake?" He asked, passing the two swords to Vincenz. They shook hands and bowed to one another.

"I'm riding back to Frencberg, but perhaps I'll have to rest the horses on the way. Where do you advise that I stop?"

Konrad replied, "Valdemar perhaps. Leroy's too far and a long distance out of the way. I'll ride to Valdemar with you. I was thinking of going to Chanoine but I should know better than to even consider it." Konrad paused, recalling his recent thoughts that he should pray before acting. "I need to take some time out. Everything's changed so much. Yes, we'll walk our horses back to Valdemar. Elliad used to be lord of the castle there. I wonder who inherited it? —Or who was appointed to it?"

"Let's find out," Haroun said, turning to mount his steed, saying over his shoulder, "I'm sure that like Bavarest and Reideaux, Frencolia will show the same hospitality to royal people and their men!"

"For sure," Konrad said. After the physical and mental exhaustion, he felt during the duel, he looked forward to resting while his horse did the same. "We should be able to leave Valdemar so that we can be in Frencberg around sunset..." His eyes searched the countryside further into his own kingdom. Turning to his men, he asked, "Is it strange that there aren't any troops in sight? —See, you can view one of the mountain posts, and I don't see any guards aloft..."

"While the cat's away, the mice play," Vincenz said in humor. He added, "Reideaux is such a sleepy place, there's not much to guard against.

"You're right," Konrad replied. I'm glad we don't have the undertows that Frencolia seems to have right now."

"If you ask me," Haroun chipped in, "That prince man, Dorai, he's one scary piece of work, he is..."

Laughter greeted this, and within minutes, they had mounted their horses, walking them back the way they had come.

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