The Border City Ord 9

Win looks down at Rolant from his vantage point on the stairs. Rolant looks back at him, a mystifying expression on his face.

“Return my sword and leave.”

“Why should I? Why should a crook have a sword?”

“I’m the crook? Then what reason might have brought you here?”

“Don’t worry about that. The real question is why you are. I thought you were just a cowardly child. So what is it? Did you decide not to run and to instead take the fight right with the soldiers? Or, more likely, you’re so cowardly you decided to break criminals free for your own protection.” Win scowls at him.

“Come now, you know why I’ve come. You call me a crook for defying that damnable lord, and all the while you serve him! All that talk of his evils and yet you still aid him! How dare you chastise me when you have no justice in your heart!” Rolant chuckles.

“Justice? ‘A knight ought to be honorable,’ is that what this is? Can honor and justice fill your belly? Can anyone live on loyalty alone? The only thing that loyalty gave me was an exile rather than an execution, though I’d be better off dead. I suppose a spoiled brat like you wouldn’t understand it though.”

“I don’t understand? It’s humanity’s greatest failing. There is nothing more valuable than protecting our own lives, that’s the great mistake we’ve made. There is no low we will not sink to if it lets us live on for another pathetic day. There is no moral to cling to when we’re faced with death. That’s humanity’s foolishness. Rolant Guiscard, if you want to die, why haven’t you slit your own stomach? You’re the worst fool of them all. You alone I won’t let surrender.”

“Did you think I would? Have you forgotten that I’ve already beaten you once, and today at that?”

“Why would a single defeat matter?”

Win dashes forward with the wind, leaping from the stairs towards Rolant. Win appears in front of him faster than he can react. Just as he begins to pull his sword up towards Win, Win slams his fist into Rolant’s jaw. Rolant staggers backward from the powerful blow. Win forces himself to the ground with a strong downward gust. As he lands, he tries to sweep Rolant’s legs. However, Rolant jabs his sword down. He feels it knock against Win’s reinforced skin, only for a quick burst of wind to slide it away.

Win backs away with another powerful gust, making a sizable gap between him and Rolant. As Rolant begins to approach, Win shoots a bolt of lightning. Rolant swipes at it and pulls it away from his body using his sword.

“Let me tell you now, little lord, I’m a master of spellbreaking. I was trained just to kill sorcerers. So don’t think your little tricks will work against me for long.”

Win glares at him without saying anything. He fires off another bolt. Again Rolant drags it away from him. However, this time, Win has dashed forward. He throws a high kick aimed at Rolant’s chin. Rolant tries to swing his sword, but realizes that it won’t reach in time. Rolant throws his head at Win’s leg. He slams his cheek into Win’s kick before it can reach full power. In the small moment where Win is left vulnerable, Rolant smashes his sword into Win’s hardened leg. There’s a loud crack as the bone breaks.

Win’s eyes flash with light several times. It’s a simple spell that dulls pain, cast on himself several times over. The stone molds itself into several small pillars that shoot up and trap Rolant inside. Win steps onto his broken leg, and his eyes flash several more times as he bears the pain. He starts healing, unable to muster the strength to move at the same time.

“You went from falling over with a single blow to standing there like it didn’t even hurt. What’s your secret?”

“Magic.”

“Painkilling magic, is it? I’ve heard most sorcerers forbid it. They say it’s no good for your head if you stop feeling pain.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“You’re that desperate to win? I’m honored, but I never thought a runaway would have so much pride.”

“It’s not pride. I just can’t afford to let you stand in my way.”

“You kept talking about justice, but you’re this afraid to face it?”

“How could you call this justice? The only reason they’ve gone after me so heavily is because you’re one of their own. They had no reason to believe I posed a threat otherwise.”

“That’s right! I’m impressed. They probably would’ve barely cared if you threw anybody else out of a tavern like that.”

“As much as it pains me, we truly are similar. We’re both utterly empty. Husks that live because we’re too foolish to stop. There’s nothing inside of us that guides us to good. Nor is there something that drives us to evil.” Rolant nods as much as his restraints allow.

“Have you healed, little lord.”

“No.”

The stone begins to crack. First one large arm breaks free, then the other. Rolant’s large chest bursts out of the stone, and he drags the rest of his body right through the remaining stone. Rolant swings his sword through the dust in the air. With a loud clap Win summons a burst of flame. Rolant cuts right through it, only the ends of his gray beard getting singed in the process. Win ducks under Rolant’s slash, but is stopped by the sudden sound of his booming voice.

“Clara!” Calliope is at the top of the stairs, quickly descending, pushing Clara ahead of her. Win takes advantage of the distraction, slamming his fist deep into Rolant’s gut.

“Of course I saved her, you bastard!”

Rolant staggers backward in a dramatic fashion. Rage courses through his veins as he looks at Clara. He grits his teeth and begins to run. Win looks over to Calliope.

“He’s likely returning to the lord now that their game is up. I’ll pursue him. You make sure she returns home safely.”

Win stumbles slightly, his leg still healing, and begins to run off after Rolant.