DD5 ~ Chapter 15~

Sorry about the late posting, just traveling home from a really intense writers conference. As soon as I got out of the car, I started working on putting this up! <3 You guys are the best!!!!!!

“By one stroke, eh?” The Warlord shook his head firmly. “You realize that as the challenged, Beinn strikes first?”

“Yes, sir.” Tom’s voice was fading.

“Medic! Keep him awake.” The Warlord strode closer, and leaned down even as the healer started working on Tom. “When?”

“As soon as he can get here, and I am functional enough for combat.” Tom spoke slightly more firmly, the color beginning to return to his cheeks.

“Hmph.” The Warlord stood tall, and looked at a Rune on the wall. “You heard him, Beinn. Get down here. A challenge in front of the nation cannot stand unresolved. Foolish little brother.”

The last words had been directed at Tom, who simply smiled slightly at the massive warrior. “Sir… it’s good to be a Northman again. I thank you for the chance.”

“It was the law.” The Warlord shook his head. “You know as well as I did that you were supposed to die in this challenge. I also know that the Binders weren’t especially gentle.”

“Life isn’t gentle.” Tom coughed a ball of phlegm and blood out. “It is good to be one of The People. It is good to face the world. It is good to see the truth.”

“Private, reign in your tongue.” The Warlord chided more gently than he had spoken to Tom in the last day. “I will call this blood-loss rambling, but any more will be insubordination. Just sit there, shut your mouth, and be healed. And you, get off my soldier.”

Hans plastered an innocent expression on his face and vanished in a flash of heat. Dale was able to track his movements, but anyone under the Mage ranks lost sight of him completely. In a moment, he was back in his seat with an arm around Rose. “Yes, sir!”

The Warlord rolled his eyes and started impatiently tapping his foot. Another door opened, and Tom’s belongings were unceremoniously dropped by his side. The courier saluted the Warlord, gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and ran off. The massive Northman sighed and leaned in to talk to Tom, but Dale’s sharp ears could hear the whispers nonetheless.

“Fool, the only magic in your armor is a cleaning spell. If I know that, Beinn knows that by now. He’s going to cut you in half with contemptuous ease. Apologize to him as he arrives, kowtow if needed. I’ll blame the strikes to your head and blood loss, and you might live to see the rising sun.” The Warlord’s words were an order, but one that Tom couldn’t follow. 

The main stone door slammed open, cracking into the wall with a sharp *snap*. “I am here to accept the challenge, and welcome the opportunity to finish what was once between us, private.”

“General Beinn.” Tom stood under his own power and began to put on his leather armor. “Do you accept the terms of the duel, and swear on your honor to abide by the outcome?”

“If the terms are a single attack each, with the Warlord determining the victor if both survive, then yes.” Beinn walked slowly down the main aisle, smiling as he drew a long katana out of an interspatial bag. Beinn looked to be in his late twenties, similar to Tom, but was far more muscular and obviously well trained and equipped. He had long black hair pulled into a tight bun, and his severe hair style accented his cold brown eyes. 

Unlike the bulky armor others were wearing, Beinn was wearing almost thin armor. Tom recognized it as the base armor that Northman War armor would fit onto, and realized that Beinn wasn’t taking this duel seriously. Beinn must have had an informant tell him about the results of Tom’s leather armor being scanned for magic, as the Warlord had warned him.

*Cough*

The two duelists tore their burning glares away from each other and looked at the Warlord. “Tom. Do you have anything to say?”

“No, sir.”

“Oh, you little-” The Warlord shook his head sadly. “Stand apart. This is Uno Ictu, and as such; only one blow will be exchanged. This is a test of your weapons and ability, not collateral damage. If either of you are hit hard enough that you will impact a wall, you will be caught gently. As the challenged… Beinn is allowed to strike first. Live by your honor…”

“Die by your honor.” The rest of the room echoed solemnly. Hans took the chance to make a rude gesture at Beinn. 

The duelists faced each other, both in a ready stance. Beinn allowed his lips to curl upward, and his malice-filled eyes took in Tom’s much smaller form. “So much less than you used to be, private Tom. It took a few years, but I finally have a chance to earn my position instead of getting promoted to it. Even if you are lesser, I am glad.”

“We’ll have time to catch up later, General.” Tom snarled, his lips barely moving as he braced himself.

“Oh… but we won’t, will we?” Beinn gripped his sword handle in one hand, and its sheath in the other. For a tense moment, they simply stared at each other… and then a crescent of silver flashed through the air. Dale watched almost in slow-motion as the blade was drawn, slashed Tom, and was carefully stored. Beinn stood proudly as the force of the attack seemed to transfer to Tom, and his face registered shock as Tom began flying away. 

The Warlord was suddenly behind Tom, and the young man was pulled out of the air and returned to his starting position. He coughed a painful, chest-wracking cough. Three of his ribs were broken on his right side, and his lung was punctured by one of the fragments. Still, shock was the only emotion present on Beinn’s face. In the entire room, there were only four people unsurprised by Tom still being alive.

“B-but… how?” Beinn’s word appeared in his hand, and he inspected the edge to see if he had been sabotaged. “You aren’t wearing magical protections, and my sword is intact… are you disguising your cultivation?”

Tom’s massive Warhammer came out of his bag and broke the stone where it landed. “My turn.”

He gripped the handle of his Warhammer with both hands and swung as hard as his critically-injured body could manage… and Beinn dodged. Tom couldn’t fully control his swing anymore, and his Warhammer continued on and struck a stone protrusion, reducing it to powder. Tom looked at his opponent in confusion. “…what?”

The Warlord had Beinn in an iron grip, and was holding him in the air by his neck. “Did you just dodge a blow during Uno Ictu, a blow by a lower-ranked cultivator; a strike from a private?”

“He couldn’t have possibly survived my attack!” Beinn choked out, trying to pry the thick fingers from his windpipe. “Someone… saved… him.”

Tom stepped forward and pulled apart the flap in his armor that the super sharp katana had created. Gleaming silver-purple metal shone through. “Mithril weave. My own preparations are what saved me.”

“Cowardice is what saved you, Beinn.” The Warlord through the man to the ground. “That blow would have killed you, and you knew it. Someone told you all the capabilities of General Tom’s armor and weapons, or they thought they did. You came here full of arrogance, not even bothering to wear your armor. Report to basic training at three bells. Dismissed.”

Tom’s face was a rictus of conflicting emotions. “Sir… did you call me General Tom?”

“I did, and speak freely.” The Warlord allowed a grin to play over his face. “Generals are able to converse with the Warlord without issue, after all.”

Dale was watching Beinn, expecting foul play when the man didn’t get to his feet right away. To his surprise, Beinn stood and marched out with a depressed but resigned look. What was going on with this society?

“I suppose you didn’t come here without a plan of action. Something drove you here.” The Warlord tapped the armor on his hip. “Is this more of a private conversation, or something to announce to the nation.”

“I… both. Sir.” Tom looked down. “Brother, I must speak to you first.”

“Then let us speak.” The Warlord put a hand on Tom’s shoulder and directed him away from the room. “Privately, then we will return what was taken from you. Then we will address The People once more. We have missed you. I have missed you… brother.”