Of Fairytales and Happy Endings

Chapter 52. Cages Broken.

We are not trapped or locked up in these bones. No, no. We are free to change. And love changes us. And if we can love one another, we can break open the sky. ~ Walter Mosley.

Chapter 52.

Cages Broken.

In one moment the general quietness of the clearing echoed with the slashing and clashing of blades. Uncle and nephew were both men of war, and this was not the first duel they had fought, though of course it was the first time they had battled each other.

"I have ten years of extra advantage to you, Elwyn," Iestyn sneered as he dodged and thrust.

"But I have fought so many more of these sort of things," Elwyn replied as he swerved and slashed, his sword clanging with Iestyn's as the colonel blocked the blow. "I had a terrible habit of getting caught with the women I flirted with."

"Does she know that," Iestyn gave a slight motined of his head to Beatrice.

"She knows that I was a terrible womanizer, yes. Said that if we had met before she would have wanted nothing to do with me."

"Those English ladies were always meant to bring the Blethyn family to ruin, where they not?"

"It's not her who is responsible for that, Uncle. This is all your doing."

After this accusation they remained silent and concentrated their strength on the fight itself.

The fight seemed to go on forever to Beatrice, every thrust, every swerve, it made her heart skip a beat till she wondered that it beat at all. Then came the terrible moment when Iestyn knocked the sword out of Elwyn's hand before stabbing his own deep into Elwyn's shoulder.

Elwyn staggard back. Beatrice bit her lip as tears began spilling out of her eyes. When she ran away from Iestyn this was not at all what she had in mind. Perhaps that horrible man had been right. She should have stayed with Mamma, so many people would not have gotten hurt.

Iestyn gloated at his work. He looked at the sword in his hand, red with his nephew's blood. "We could call it quits, Elwyn," he laughed. "But I warned you I fight to the death. Pick up your sword, much as I hate you, I will never kill an unarmed man."

Elwyn grit his teeth as pain flooded his right shoulder and blood soaked his uniform. His right hand was now useless thanks to the wound. He strode over and stooped down.

"You think this will be over quick, don't you Uncle."

"You right arm is useless, you cannot fight properly, of course it will be over quick."

Elwyn let out a low smirk. "You forget, Uncle," he muttered in a low voice. "Forget," reaching out his left hand, he took up the sword, "that like you," grasping it tight, he jumped to his feet, "I fight with my my left hand as well as my right."

He thrust at his uncle, who barely managed to swerve and block. Iestyn's eyes flashed with rage. He had forgotten.

The pain from his wound seemed to give Elwyn a strange sort of strength and determination. His left hand was a mangled mess, but it held tightly to his sword and did exactly what its owner desired it to do.

Thus the duel continued. Elwyn slashed his uncle's left arm and Iestyn growled as the sharp blade drew blood. Iestyn tripped Elwyn, who tumbled to the ground, but managed to roll over and scramble back to his feet before his uncle could stab him again. It was soon obvious that both men were tiring. The good side of Elwyn's face was about as pale as his bad side. He was loosing blood but refused to give in. He would make his uncle pay for all the crimes he had committed.