Parry
"Captain of what, Bevier?" Andre whispered.
Bevier answered with a glance to a revealing DuChevalier. The stranger's tabard answered Andre's question, "A musketeer?!? In a Castillian prison?" The man removed his gloves, "Someone that knows my face� Interesting� Unfortunately, I don't recognize the face, and I'm absolutely miserable with names�" The man walked competently towards the two friends. A swordsman, Andre thought to himself. Although, secretly, he wondered how he came to that conclusion. The captain's attention was on Bevier. Glancing also at his companion, Andre was taken slightly aback. Something was wrong. Earlier, Bevier seemed slightly frightful. But now, Bevier bristled with defiance, his fear seemingly forgotten. DuChevalier seemed more than mildly interested in his countryman's reaction. "What do you want, Captain?" Andre demanded, attempting to deflect the musketeers attention. As if seeing him for the first time, DuChevalier focused on Andre, "Information, it seems. Information that you also seem to be seeking�" "Refresh my memory, I've been having problems with it of late�dear Captain." Andre added. "What information would that be?" he asked. " 'Dear Captain�'" DeChevalier repeated, "What have I done to endear myself to you, I wonder�" he chuckled, but his eyes looked straight into Andre's. "But you know of who I speak�" "My son?" Andre asked. "Indeed," he said, "Your son�" "And what has my son done to attract the attentions of the Musketeers?" Andre asked. "As of yet, nothing," DuChevalier answered, "Nothing." "So your interest would be�" Andre said. "The company that your son is currently keeping� Interests the Musketeers, Castillian� They have perpetrated crimes against Montaigne� More importantly, le'Empereur�" "Indeed?" Andre asked. "And those crimes would be?" Bevier asked impetuously. De la Garza sighed, he wished his friend would be quiet, or at least attempt some semblance of composure. DuChevalier smiled unpleasantly, "The crimes themselves are to be indicated in a court of law understanding of Montaigne interests�" The smile fell, "I can arrange for you to be present at said precedings..." "As 'guests' of Montaigne, captain?" Bevier asked. "That has yet to be decided�" The musketeer answered. "Are we to become prisoners of Montaigne, dear Captain?" Andre noticed the other musketeers in the peripheral, possibly six. He looked mournfully at the sputtering torch in Bevier's hand, their only weapon. "That depends on how cooperative you are." The captain replied. "And if we don't feel very cooperative today, DuChevalier?" Bevier demanded, "What then?" "It doesn't seem to me that you have very many options, countryman�" DeChevalier answered, he placed his hand on his sword for emphasis. Le Empereur? The musketeers? Andre's mind reeled from the situation. What the hell was going on ? How can such a small group of people cross so many of the wrong people? Andre's eyes narrowed, drawing an idea from the DuChevalier's threatening gesture, "Bevier, I've heard that your Musketeers are fairly honorbound, is that correct? Or at least from what I can remember�" He whispered in Vodacce, guessing that the musketeer knew his native language, Castillian, as well as he knew his own. "They are not my Musketeers, anymore than they were your Inquisition, Andre," Bevier objected, "But yes, the majority of them are�" DuChevalier's own eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And this one?" Andre asked, searching his friend's eyes. Andre's hand had drifted to his side. The side with the empty scabbard. As if it expected a sword to be there. His mind produced a picture of a fine blade to match the scabbard� An exquisite hilt� Bevier, in turn, narrowed his, "No different." Andre put a foot forward, "I have a proposition for you, Musketeer�" "And that would be?" "That you and myself duel�" Andre ignored Bevier's sudden pull on his sleeve. "Indeed," the captain thought a moment, "And the stakes of this duel would be?" "Should I win, you and your musketeers will escort me and my associate out, no further questions asked." "And if I win?" DuChevalier asked mildly. "We tell you what you want to know, and go willingly into your custody�" "An interesting proposition�" DuChevalier paused, confident. "Tell me, why should I accept?" The captain asked. "Your hand isn't as strong as you think, Captain, you are still in a Castillian prison, maintained by the Inquisition, who as far as I can guess are no better friends with the Musketeers than the rest of the Castillian people, far from any other willing help." "I doubt that you could cause that much disruption, and I doubt very much that you'd be 'willing help' as you so charmingly put it�" DuChevalier countered. "If you doubt so, than the duel should be that much quicker, shouldn't it, Captain�" Another musketeer stepped up to the captain, "Captain�" DuChevalier paused for a moment, "It's alright, Remy," he inspected Andre, "This won't take to long� I accept your terms, sir, I hope this proves to you the worth of a Musketeer's honor�." The captain regloved his hands, "Give this man a sword, Gerald." Gerald? Who? The name of the unseen musketeer jolted an unpleasant memory in Andre. He covered his eyes for a moment, but the full memory eluded his grasp. He was left with an impression, a hateful one. "Andre, this is not the best plan we could have come up with�" Bevier told him to his ear. "None of our plans have gone the way we intended them to," he replied, his voice intense. Bevier looked at him curiously, "Andre?" "Damn my memory, remember that name, 'Gerald.'" Andre said, his hand massaging the bridge of his nose. "Alright." "Besides," Andre said lightly, "How good can he be?" Andre accepted the sword from the musketeer, Gerald. He looked at the man in passing, but nothing else surfaced. He tried to relax. "I suppose the real question is�" Bevier stated, "How good are you, Andre?" Surprisingly, the tension melted from his muscles and his mind began to clear, "I think we're going to find out." He had the vision of his opponent posturing. The captain was doing just that� Andre continued to relax, the blade lightly tapping the floor, "Whenever you're ready�" Before the word, 'captain' could leave his lips, it had begun. The attack was quick and straightforward. Much to the surprise of the captain, Andre simply was not where the musketeer's blade had ended. As if in a dream, it happened� Reactions long dormant, nearly forgotten entirely, surfaced. Andre de la Garza had always thought himself a quick man, but not this quick� His feet moved with incredible speed and his body quickly followed suit. He had nearly sidestepped behind the musketeer before DuChevalier recovered. And recover he did, scoring the first hit on Andre's shoulder. A tap. But surprise was all about his face. The Montaigne swordsman did not let his guard down, but he could not hide his surprise. The musketeers looked among themselves. A few whispered. The captain nodded. A devilish gleam entered Andre's eye. He straightened. Confidence gripped his borrowed blade. DuChevalier came in quick, quicker than before. Not quick enough. Andre answered with a quick counter that parried his opponents blade down and answered with two lightning slashes across the tabard of the captain. Andre nodded. DeChevalier narrowed his eyes. There was no telling who made the next attack, but it was blindingly fast and led into a counter and into another attack and so on. The blades crossed and crossed and crossed, again and again. Bevier and the other musketeers were spellbound. All of them took a step back. Very few had ever seen such speed and accuracy from two opponents. There was no pausing, no time in between the attacks to think, it was all instinctive. It was too quick to be anything else. The very sound was unlike any had heard before, the swords resonating a disturbingly unique rhythm that repeated and repeated. Fabric ripped and blood sprayed on the onlookers� Bevier held his torch high and two of the musketeers lit theirs. A breath, a strike. A breath, a riposte. A breath, two strikes� Bevier, in particular, was shocked in the professional way that Andre defended himself, "Well, I'll be damned�" When he made a move to leave, the musketeer Gerald stopped him. The musketeer took his torch from him. A break in the duel. Both men eyed each other warily. DuChevalier with some difficulty, as there was a cut above his eyebrow. Tension played on the blades and began to build as the men circled each other� They were not finished with each other. Not yet. None could tell if they were resting or probing each other for weaknesses. Andre's eyes betrayed concentration if nothing else. DuChevalier, the same. Bevier noticed a nasty wound in his friend's shoulder, but Andre's borrowed foil did not drift. Down the corridor, the guards had finally arrived on their regular shift. The musketeers acted quickly to try to subdue them. If DuChevalier noticed, it certainly didn't show. With the opening in the musketeer's vigilance, Bevier slipped away into the darkness. Andre and the captain took no notice. They were busy.Return to Uncommon Valor