The Duel

Writer's note: This is the writer's attempt at writing a sword dueling scene, based on manuals of saber combat and personal experience.

The Master-at-arms and I stood in the ring. We would fight here to train and pass time or blow off steam, today was the first one. “Young master, take your stance,” I heard from behind his helmet. Setting myself with my weight on my right leg behind me and tucking my left hand behind my back I angled the blunted saber into the neutral stance. Held with the tip up and the saber to my right. He took a similar stance but his weight was on his left leg, From there we began circling. Every step is slow and deliberate, waiting for one to push the other. I lunged first angling my tip at his abdomen under the rib cage, seeming as if by a second sense he swung his saber, In a vector that his right arm crossed his body, similar to the neutral stance deflecting my blow. From there he cut with the blade edge up into my exposed chest, striking the training gear “Point!” called the referee. We relaxed our stance and shook hands.

We settled into our respective corners again this time I put my weight on my left forward leg, he did the same. Beginning to circle one another again, This time I knocked my blade forward halfway causing him to assume the strike then tapping him on the shoulder with my false edge I heard “Point!” from the referee. I laughed causing him to let out an annoyed grumble and go to swing for my midsection. I caught the blade with my handguard. “Too slow,” I said laughing as he angled into a thrust. I knocked the blade aside but he broke the bind quickly and struck my helmet. “Point!” I heard called again. Normally we would reset each point but I had started something and we would go best of four like this. I was one, he was two.

I moved to his right as he swung from his right to left using my blade to hold and offset his, sliding my blade and guard to be bonded to his. We circled, “You know this only happens in your story books,” he laughed as I pushed into him setting him on the back foot. Dislodging our sabers He went to thrust at my center, I swung from the neutral position at it knocking it aside and thrusting into his chest. “Point!” I was tied with him. “Tiebreaker old man!” I let out a raucous laugh. We both reset to our neutral stances, I made the first move this time wasting no time I swung into his sword to push it back. The opening was clear and I thrust and then the singing of steel and a pressure in my ribs. He had knocked away my saber and swung into my ribs. “Point!” Called the referee, “Seems the tie is broken. Come along you have studies with the friar.”. He patted my shoulder and led me to the chapel. One day I will beat him, one day.