been so swept up in the anticipation and tension that they had kept completely silent, broke into thunderous cheers and applause. The whole square was filled with frenzied screams heard throughout the surrounding area.
“Victory!” yelled Hartz as he raised his arms to the sky. He then fell to the ground, exhausted.
An hour after Hartz’s incredible show of courage and honor it was Komir’s turn. There, in the middle of the village square, surrounded by a multitude of onlookers, Komir began to feel his nerves taking over. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that was growing by the second, like a volcano about to erupt. Just a few moments before he had been completely calm and confident about his chances. But now, in the middle of these spectacular surroundings, his nerves were starting to get the best of him.
Hartz approached, his face completely swollen and bruised from the brutal beating he’d taken. He looked Komir straight in the eye and said: “Norriel are we, Norriel shall we die.”
“Norriel are we, Norriel shall we die,” affirmed Komir, appreciative of his friend’s support. Hartz winked one purple eye at him and took a seat with the other spectators.
Gudin went to the middle of the crowded square. Looking at the public he announced:
“Komir, son of Ulis of the Bikia tribe, come forth into the ring.” He looked at him and motioned with this right arm where Komir should go.
Komir hesitantly approached and stood where Gudin had indicated.
“Akog, son of Lopar of the Bikia tribe, come forth into the ring,” summoned the Master as he pointed with his left hand at the second combatant’s position.
When he heard that name pronounced, Komir shuddered.
Akog? It could be no-one else!
His rival walked to his position with a firm step and an attitude of defiance. He stared at Komir, his eyes glaring with stifled rage. The hatred in his gaze was unmistakable. His right fist was so forcefully clenched it was almost white.
Komir breathed deeply, filling his lungs and then exhaling slowly as he tried to calm his nerves. He looked into the eyes of his opponent. There he saw clearly visceral hatred projected back at him like a poisoned dart. So, we meet again. My worst enemy, the one who deeply despises me... the one who caused the incident by the river I’ve tried so hard to forget yet never could. It could be no other way ... So much rancor ... You would desperately like to defeat me, wouldn’t you? But more than that, you would love to humiliate me in front of everyone, to ridicule me so I am the laughing stock of the village. But that is not going to happen; I will not let that happen! Your hatred is my strongest ally, and it will ultimately help me defeat you.
Master Gudin’s voice once again resonated through the square.
“You know the rules of combat.”
Both boys nodded in agreement.
“Instructors, present the weapons to the fighters.”
They took the flat, edgeless competition swords and, ready for combat, saluted one another in the Norriel style. The Master Warrior gave a signal with his arm and the two contenders moved into guard position. The spectators, crowding the square to see the grand finale, began shouting and cheering.
This was the culminating moment of the day. The one everyone had been waiting to see.
The Master’s arm fell to his side, signaling the start of the bout, and both fighters initiated the circular movements of their advance.
Without delay, Akog launched a furious attack. Komir vacillated a moment and retreated to evade him. Akog pressed furiously. The crowd cheered, surprised by the speed and fierceness of the young man’s attacks. After his initial brief moment of hesitation, Komir defended himself against the irascible assault as best he could while his confidence waned in the face of his rival’s spurs. All his concentration was focused on blocking the attacks. Arm and wrist acted on the orders from his brain, instantaneously
“Victory!” yelled Hartz as he raised his arms to the sky. He then fell to the ground, exhausted.
An hour after Hartz’s incredible show of courage and honor it was Komir’s turn. There, in the middle of the village square, surrounded by a multitude of onlookers, Komir began to feel his nerves taking over. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that was growing by the second, like a volcano about to erupt. Just a few moments before he had been completely calm and confident about his chances. But now, in the middle of these spectacular surroundings, his nerves were starting to get the best of him.
Hartz approached, his face completely swollen and bruised from the brutal beating he’d taken. He looked Komir straight in the eye and said: “Norriel are we, Norriel shall we die.”
“Norriel are we, Norriel shall we die,” affirmed Komir, appreciative of his friend’s support. Hartz winked one purple eye at him and took a seat with the other spectators.
Gudin went to the middle of the crowded square. Looking at the public he announced:
“Komir, son of Ulis of the Bikia tribe, come forth into the ring.” He looked at him and motioned with this right arm where Komir should go.
Komir hesitantly approached and stood where Gudin had indicated.
“Akog, son of Lopar of the Bikia tribe, come forth into the ring,” summoned the Master as he pointed with his left hand at the second combatant’s position.
When he heard that name pronounced, Komir shuddered.
Akog? It could be no-one else!
His rival walked to his position with a firm step and an attitude of defiance. He stared at Komir, his eyes glaring with stifled rage. The hatred in his gaze was unmistakable. His right fist was so forcefully clenched it was almost white.
Komir breathed deeply, filling his lungs and then exhaling slowly as he tried to calm his nerves. He looked into the eyes of his opponent. There he saw clearly visceral hatred projected back at him like a poisoned dart. So, we meet again. My worst enemy, the one who deeply despises me... the one who caused the incident by the river I’ve tried so hard to forget yet never could. It could be no other way ... So much rancor ... You would desperately like to defeat me, wouldn’t you? But more than that, you would love to humiliate me in front of everyone, to ridicule me so I am the laughing stock of the village. But that is not going to happen; I will not let that happen! Your hatred is my strongest ally, and it will ultimately help me defeat you.
Master Gudin’s voice once again resonated through the square.
“You know the rules of combat.”
Both boys nodded in agreement.
“Instructors, present the weapons to the fighters.”
They took the flat, edgeless competition swords and, ready for combat, saluted one another in the Norriel style. The Master Warrior gave a signal with his arm and the two contenders moved into guard position. The spectators, crowding the square to see the grand finale, began shouting and cheering.
This was the culminating moment of the day. The one everyone had been waiting to see.
The Master’s arm fell to his side, signaling the start of the bout, and both fighters initiated the circular movements of their advance.
Without delay, Akog launched a furious attack. Komir vacillated a moment and retreated to evade him. Akog pressed furiously. The crowd cheered, surprised by the speed and fierceness of the young man’s attacks. After his initial brief moment of hesitation, Komir defended himself against the irascible assault as best he could while his confidence waned in the face of his rival’s spurs. All his concentration was focused on blocking the attacks. Arm and wrist acted on the orders from his brain, instantaneously
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