Duel Between Brothers

 

Warning: In order to understand what is written here, please read my previous post first (the one about backlog) which can be found here.

Well, here is the story. Enjoy!

As I trudged through the dense forest, I sensed movement near me. Drawing my blade out of its scabbard, I readied myself for battle, as befitting a knight of Camelot. Spinning around, I parried the strike of my would-be assassin and forced their sword to the ground. When I looked up into his face, I could not believe my eyes. My elder brother stared back, his shocked face contorting into a hideous sneer.

“Well, well, what have we here? A knight of Camelot, my younger brother no less,” he spat, the words dripping with venom. “I was just on patrol for King Cenred, and my, I’ve caught one of Arthur’s spies. You do know we are at war, don’t you, little brother?”

I gritted my teeth. “I am well aware of that fact, brother. You need not remind me of our current circumstances,” I replied curtly. I had to remind myself that the man in front of me was no longer my estranged brother, but a knight of Cenred, my sworn enemy.

“Well then, now that I have you in my grasp, I won’t let you go so easily. I, Sir Mainard, challenge you to a knight’s duel to the death. I will slay you in the name of King Cenred, you filthy Camelot scum, and bring glory to the land of Albion. I’ll finally prove who the better brother is – me.”

With that said, he took off his glove and threw it at me. The moment I picked it up, he charged at me like a wild boar. I immediately brought up my longsword to block the blow and counter it, instinct taking over, flooding my body with adrenaline. Iron clashed with iron, metal pounding on metal, with both of us essentially doing the same thing – thrusting and parrying, and parrying and thrusting. As we fought, my body moved on its own, allowing my mind to wander off for a moment.

How had this happened? How had two brothers become knights of opposing kingdoms, now sworn enemies of each other and out for blood?

Ever since we were old enough to swing a sword, he had always resented me, for reasons I was not privy to. Mother had tried to get him to stop all this, but he never listened.

Every time I slipped up, or made a mistake he would laugh at me condescendingly. In contrast, whenever he made a mistake, I always tried to help him back up and improve, but he always rejected the hand that I lent him.

A battle cry followed by a downward slash brought me out of my momentary stupor, causing me to raise my sword upwards, but I was too slow. Mainard’s blade struck home, leaving a huge gash in my right shoulder, blood pouring out of the wound. The immense pain forced me to let go of my grip on the hilt, and I staggered forward before catching myself. He began speaking, panting from all the exertion, “Father used to say that you were born lucky, and that I was lucky to be born, but today, you will finally see that I’m the superior sibling. I always hated that smile you wore when reaching down to me, mocking me, saying that I could never be better than you.

I never needed help, but you tried to give some anyway, just so you could show everyone how ‘kind’ you were. But I knew the truth. You just wanted to look good in front of everybody. Now, as you meet your demise at the hands of your dear brother, remember this: you caused all of this. You.”

As he lunged forward, his eyes filled with murderous hatred and psychotic glee; I closed my eyes, lifted my sword and stabbed it forward, hearing the sound of metal piercing flesh.

Opening them, I saw Mainard at the end of the blade, his eyes bulging and mouth agape with surprise, his sword, forgotten, held in the palm of his raised hand. As I pulled my sword out of him, he collapsed on the ground, the scarlet liquid gushing from the point of contact. Reaching out to cover the wound, I tried to stem the bleeding but Mainard swatted my hand aside.

“I would rather die than be helped by you ever again.”

“Mainard...”

“Burn in hell, little brother.”

With those parting words, his body became limp and lifeless in my arms. Steeling myself, I let him sink into the ground, and raised myself up, using my sword as a support so that I could also staunch the bleeding in my shoulder and started heading back.

Merlin and Arthur would have to know what happened.