Duel of Trust

Morning, just before the dawn.

Mist drifts across the meadow , the grass is glazed with fine dew. The scent of damp earth fills the air. Only roosters and birds could be heard and the ocasional soft clink of a metal echoes now and then. On one side lie the stone remains of the fallen fortress Harazamos, on the other the village's panorama. A faint breeze ripples through the clearing.

From the distance, many figures approach the lone warrior whom is standing on the field, awaiting his foe. It isn't an official duel, yet some witnesses have gathered. On the grass stands Max, clad in his armor, axe in his right hand, a large triangular shield in his left. A wisp of steam rises from his armor, hinting that he must have warmed up before arriving.

Nearby arrives Roland, wearing a hauberk over his gambeson. He also have metal plates guard on his shoulders, elbows and knees. Aswell as metal gauntlets. he holds his axe firmly in one hand and a small triangular shield in the other. His confident steps echoes across the clearing, sending shivers through the villagers watching. His gaze is cool and appraising. "Let's see what you've really capable of."

Roland closes the distance quickly, attacking from the right, then twisting his wrist for a left strike. He raises his shield, ducks low and brings his axe up into Max's legs. Max blocks with his shield and retreats one step.

"Standard sequence, better than I expected" After quick thougth, Max responses the same sequence to his foe.

"He's got strength, swings hard." As Roland muses. Than a couple of repetivie attacks, block and counters happens. "He won't be easy to defeat" Roland continues his inner thougths. The duel remains evenly matched, each fighter testing the other.

After more of exchanges, Max sidesteps swiftly and strikes with his right elbow, Roland blocks with shield, but Max follows instantly with a shield bash.

"With the shield? You surprised me there, young one!" As Roland thinks. He staggers back and counters, then attempts a side kick against Max. "Damn, he barely felt that through his armor" As Roland notes.

Suddenly both stand at half-sword distance, eyes locked with caution. They know they are no ordinary opponents.

"He's no amateus... I must catch him off guard" as Max decides, studying Roland's stance. In Roland's eyes is a flicker of respect, though a scowl shows of his unwillingness to fully concede.

Adrenaline surges through Max. His hands tremble, his heart beats faster, he breathes quicker, yet he forces himself to analyze Roland's footwork.

Max inhales deeply, then steps back two paces. Roland, surprised thinks "What's this? He's changing his style mid-fight - you can't be serious..."

Suddenly Max charges, slamming his shield into Roland and forcing him backward. He follows with a front kick and slashes at an odd angle, tearing a piece of Roland's garment - proof he has passed the test.

Roland moves to raise his axe, thinking, "This won't go unchallenged!" but Max isn't finished. He lifts his shield overhead, twists his body to follow the movement of the previous axe attack, bends at the knees, pivots and again strikes at foes knee. Roland's axe attack glances off Max's shield, exactly where Max anticipated the Attack.

"A fancy move, rarely done, but I'm happy it worked" As Max calms down and deepen his breathes.

"What a damn trick... I've never seen anyone make such a risky move." Roland admits his impression acknowledging his own defeat.

The crowd erupts in applause, their surprise and admiration is clear. Max sheaths his axe, lifts his visor and extends his hand to Roland. The guard hesitates, breathing heavily, than sheathes his own weapon and grips Max's hand. 

"I could feel how firmly he squeezed, he may not show it in his expression as a guard, but that grip said it all. He began to respect me."

Roland's voice is tired but sincere:

"You have the heart of a warrior... and I sense some kindness which is lacking in nowadays"

"Thank you. I think this is a good start to our partnership."

Max gives a small smile as they walk toward the crowd, villagers hold water bags for the fighters and shout words of praise. The onlookers head to village to begin their work, leaving Max and Roland alone at the field.

Roland speaks in lower tone:

"Not everyone know this, but bandit numbers most likely have ricen recently. The scouts of nearby neighbour village suspects that they might planning an attack in three days - on festival day.:

"So that's when you'll be away..."

"Don't assume they know I'd be absent. Festivals are prime time for raids, whether I'm here or not."

"Then what do we do? We have little time."

"At afternoon, some rest and east, we'll mount a reconnaissance. Meet me by the ruins. Use the time to recover, as anything can happen"

Roland slowly stands and heads off toward the village. Max remains seated, staring at his weapon and shield, thinking:

"I don't know how I came to this place, but I know why I'm exactly here. To help them. Yet... can I face a real fight to the death? This will no longer be a sport... am I up to it?"

Afternoon, in the shadow of the ruins.

Roland and Max meet again, joined now by Nadia. Roland clearly resents her presence, but she retorts indignangtly:

"You two can't handle it alone. I'm a hunter, my bow sill serve you well if things go wrong."

Roland considers her for a moment, then relents. In his gaze is a hint of nostalgia, as if he sees himself years ago. He crouches and unfolds a map.

"I know that Nadia can, but Max... can you read a map?"

"Yes, though I'm not familiar with the terrain."

Roland points out their position, the village, and the surrounding area, then continues:

"The bandits strike at few points" He points them with his finger. "Animal trails have shifted, likely their camp lies northwest. An abandoned old sawmill is nearby, a perfect hideout. They'll strike during the festival. Today we'll observe. If possible, we'll quietly eliminate a bandit or two. Max, you must stay back - your armor's noise will announce you."

"Alright. First we count them, note their gear, then we'll decide to strike immediately or lay a future ambush" As Max says to Roland.

"Good. You catch on quickly. You remind me of someone from the old days, whom did what needed to be done without questions."

Roland stands and heads toward the sawmill, Nadia and Max follow him.

As they approach, Max can't stand the silence, comes closer to Roland and silently asks:

"Why aren't there more guards?"

Roland anwers darkly:

"Bandits. Actors playing war. Foolish imperial decisions. Some think peace needs no soldiers... until it's too late."

Max wanted to say to himself in mind, but by accident says in low voice:

"If you want peace, prepare for war. Every world makes the same mistakes..."

Roland narrows his eyes, but stays silent. Suddenly Nadia creeps up behind them:

"What's with the gloomy face, old man? Still sore from your defeat?"

"Funny, you scamp. Focus on hitting the target. You're not getting mollycoddled today, as in many hunts we've been together."

"Aw, come on... That was many seasons ago... I've improved."

"I'd better hope so. Shhhh, time to stay quiet, in position."

As Roland says it is time to be remain silent, they're getting close, producing too much noise through dialogue is a huge risk. They fall into formation: Roland leads, Max follows behind in a bigger distance and Nadia brings up the rear with her bow ready.

After a while, Max crouches frozen, listening to the sudden hush. From the trees comes a light wind, from which a muffled voices and laughter comes - as an icy echo stabbing into Max's chest like a blade of fear.

"It's everything I've learnt, enough?"

A shiver runs through him as the question weigths on his heart and soul: do I belong in this world? In that moment he recalls Roland's morning glance and understands: the true test is only just beginning.