"I won't lie," Alex quipped. "Those darts of yours seem pretty useful." He took a couple of steps back, as if retreating from the fight. It was a feint, though. He used the backward momentum to swing his broken sword in a broad arc meant to slash at Orrin's waist.
There was another sharp clang as Orrin easily brought his blade up to parry the swing and then pushed forward, forcing Alex back. Pushing his advantage, he stabbed the tip of his sword forward in a lunging stab, forcing Alex to spin away and give up even more ground.
With neither man getting the upper hand, they both retreated. Alex swept his sword through an elaborate series of sweeps and arcs. His body moved with the blade in perfect harmony, as if man and sword were one.
Orrin felt an unfamiliar trickle of fear, but he suppressed it before it could show on his face. He had spent most of his life mastering the sword, and he was beginning to worry about how long this fight had gone on.
"What is this sword technique?" he asked. He paid close attention to Alex's feet, which is where all the lesser swordsmen gave their moves away. It was like learning a poker player's tells.
Alex didn't answer and swept in for an attack that consisted of a series of feints and test strikes meant to show the weaknesses of Orrin's defense. There weren't any. The sound of steel striking against steel rang through the night.
Alex's attack forced Orrin to back up, but the retreat was a ploy. Orrin waited for him to overextend just enough to exploit his lack of balance. Then he used Alex's own momentum against him and swung his sword in a brutal chop that would have taken off the younger man's head.
Alex was able to block the strike, barely, but they were locked again, face to face. Alex strained to keep Orrin's weapon at bay. Dropping his center of gravity, he kept his feet steady and leaned into Orrin's sword. Everything was happening so fast that he almost didn't see Orrin's lips curl in a victorious grin.
Before Alex could react, Orrin let up the pressure on his sword by a tiny amount, causing another sudden shift in his balance. Alex's eyes widened in horror as Orrin let both swords fall and let his pommel swing through to strike Alex's ribs. Off balance again and trying to shut down the starburst of pain as he felt a bone break, Alex could barely block yet another blow that would have been lethal. Instead of locking them together this time, the strike knocked him back through the air like a rag doll.
Alex was bleeding, and his sword had broken again. He focused on his inner power to shut down the pain and keep him from going into shock. He couldn't hide his surprise.
"Whatever you tipped those darts with has given you extra strength," he said. "But I can see that it's killing you. You must really hate me to want to die like this. I can hear your heart beating from here, and it sounds like it could blow at any minute. You're a literal ticking time bomb."
"It'll be worth it if I get to watch you die," Orrin snarled.
He pressed forward again and lunged into a low stab, the tip of his blade aiming for Alex's heart. The broken blade swept up to parry it, but Orrin noticed that Alex was now using both hands to wield his sword. It's almost over, he thought.
Alex followed up with a spinning slash to put Orrin on guard, and their blades met again. He used the brief pause to back off and give himself more room to maneuver. Orrin, his eyes red and his breath coming in heaving gasps, brought his sword down in another brutal downward stroke.
Alex blocked the strike again, but he could feel his strength fading. His vision began to blur, and a wave of dizziness spread through him. It was getting harder to concentrate. He shook his head to clear it and almost missed another sweeping slash.
The two blades collided with another ringing clang, and Alex grunted with the effort of fending off another blow. He was running out of steam. He angled his sword to force Orrin's blade down and leaned forward so the guards of both weapons locked them together for a moment.
Orrin twisted his shoulders to follow his blade and slammed his knee into Alex's hip, knocking him backward again. Alex's mind raced as he rethought his strategy. He had known Orrin would be dangerous, but he was still shocked by the man's strength and speed. He's tougher than I expected, he thought. I can't keep this up if I fight on his terms.
Orrin made another charge, this time with a series of lightning-fast slashes meant to overwhelm Alex. The series consisted of thirty-six strikes to different vital areas. If even one of them hit its target, then it would be impossible for Alex to recover. None of them landed, but the strain on Alex was taking its toll.
Maddened, Orrin repeated the series, and Alex's defense was successful again.
From the relative safety of her hiding place, Maria watched the battle with mounting dread. It's a stalemate for now, she thought. Alex looked calm, but he was clearly exhausted and in trouble. Orrin's expression was almost crazed, and his attacks were getting wilder and less precise.
Alex also noticed Orrin's diminishing control. He can't keep this up either, he thought. I can use that. His suspicions were confirmed after another round of attacks. Orrin's strength was starting to fade, and he was getting anxious. It was making him sloppy.
"Getting tired?" he taunted. "You're good—really good. But you couldn't win with brute force, and now you're running out of juice."
"I've got enough to kill you," Orrin said.
"I don't know about that," Alex said, grinning. "You're having trouble breathing, and you're getting weaker with every swing. Pretty soon, you won't even be able to lift that pocketknife of yours."
The taunt did its job. Orrin roared and attacked with no grace or finesse. Instead of graceful slashes and swings, he started using his sword more like a baseball bat. Alex smiled and danced away from each blow without even using his sword to block the wild attack. He spun and whirled out of the blade's path like a leaf in the wind.
In moments, Orrin was pouring sweat and breathing in wheezing gasps. The speed of his attacks slowed, and he finally gave Alex an opening. A swing that would have cut him in half pulled Orrin off balance long enough for Alex to strike. Instead of trying to cut his opponent, Alex aimed his strike at Orrin's sword. The force of the blow traveled up Orrin's arm, and he stumbled. Then Alex drove his broken sword into Orrin's shoulder.
Orrin grabbed the hilt of the sword and staggered backward, pulling it from Alex's hand. He couldn't feel the pain of the wound yet, but he knew he was in trouble. With a grunt, he pulled the ruined weapon from his shoulder and tossed it aside.
"Celeste," Alex called, extending his left hand without taking his eyes off Orrin. "Sword!"
The black sword whistled through the air into his hand, and he followed Orrin's retreat. With a graceful lunge, he stabbed Orrin's other shoulder.
Orrin's eyes went wide. "No…" He fumbled at his belt with clumsy fingers, spilling more darts onto the ground. Wounded and exhausted, his movements were getting slower. The effects of whatever he had tipped the darts with were wearing off, and it was like watching a balloon slowly deflate. He leaned on a pillar and slid to the ground, looking older and more haggard than he had before the fight.
Alex half-expected him to start ranting or to order his followers to attack, but Orrin seemed almost calm. He gingerly pulled the black sword from his shoulder and watched the wound bleed. His wounds shouldn't have been fatal, but it was just a matter of time. He knew that Alex had killed him—he just wasn't dead yet.
A sigh rose from his followers. Their eyes darted from their leader to Alex and back again. For most of them, Orrin had been their guiding star. Now they looked at Alex as if he shone even brighter.
Maria gaped in shock. Even close to the end of the fight, she hadn't expected Alex to win. She watched Orrin's people struggle while watching their leader suffer a defeat, and she knew she had to make her move.
"Somebody, help him," she shouted, pointing at Orrin. "Protect him!"