She was ready and willing to make a mess. Saoirse goaded her opponent, beckoning him toward her with a gesture. “Come and get it.” She offered playfully.
“I intend to.” He smirked casually before dashing towards her, closing the space in a fraction of a second.
She had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like forever. It was actually about a day, but her youthful exuberance had drawn out the hours in painful tedium. “I guess we get to see if you’re as good as you think you are.” Her lance parried the first violent swing of his sword. She stepped to the side bringing the spear around to block a second blow.
“Why don’t you lay down your spear and we can talk about this over dinner?” He offered suavely, attempting to bash her with the shield.
“I’ll pass.” She grimaced. She could feel his strength through the blow, even as her spear intercepted it and turned it aside. She rotated bending with its force. “Impressive, you might not be an easy kill after all.”
“Why thank you, it means so much to impress you“ He countered sarcastically, slashing at her with a series of aggressive attacks. “But where are my manners, I should address myself in front of a lady”, he stabbed his blade forward seeking to curl around the spear, but again it turned aside the attack. “The name is Corym, at your service”, he mocked feigning a blow to her left, then attacking to the right.
“I don’t know what you think you know, but I’m no lady,” Saoirse grunted and she blocked the strike, transitioning into an attack. She went on the offensive for the first time, stabbing her spear forward until it was rebuffed at the last second by his clanging shield.
“Clearly”, he smiled, retreating as another attack reverberated against the shield. "You're sure I can't interest you in some fine food and wine?" He rooted his feet pushing back at her and taking the initiative once more. She was knocked off balance for just a second but quickly regained her footing in the powdery dirt.
"You just can't imagine someone would say no, can you?" She glowered. "Remember, I'm not your average girl." She flexed the lance, creating separation.
“You are not a warrior either”, he taunted hoping to draw her into a rage.
“Is that so?” She remarked. He could hear the malice growing in her voice and lunged forward with a long horizontal slash of his sword, hoping to land a strike as her mind clouded with anger. The devastating blow missed barely, cutting the empty air as she leaped over it, scoring a twisting kick to her opponent’s head. “You can quit anytime gladiator, I won’t hold a grudge”. Her voice dripped with venom as he stepped back, staggered by the blow.
Corym touched his eye, feeling a warm wetness on his fingers. He held it out in front of his face, “A bit of blood and you grow bold little girl.” No sooner had the words left his mouth than his wound had healed. “Perhaps you need a reminder of your place”. He charged her ferociously. A strange anger had taken root in his heart and he beared little resemblance to the man who had calmed her just minutes before the fight.
“Still with the girl jokes? You disappoint me Corym.“ She let out a roar as she met his onslaught head-on, redirecting him to the side. Still, he succeeded in piercing her flesh, inflicting a shallow gash to her bicep. It healed in seconds. Lunging forward she struck with the blunt side of her lance, then snapped the spearhead around, grazing his neck and drawing a slow stream of blood.
“Come now Saoirse, is that truly all you can do?” He laughed at the superficial attack, a mere flesh wound.
Their deadly dance went on like this for a few minutes more; each trading blows and barbed words, the clang of steel cutting through the rumbling arena. She landed 3 hits to his every one, but each wound of hers knit itself shut. Corym grimaced as his wounds accumulated, refusing to heal. “A cursed spear is it?” His breathe began to grow heavier. “Should have known...a treacherous little witch.”
“You figured it out”, she spat, “you deserve a medal”. She spun the lance expertly in her hand deflecting his somewhat lessened blows until she saw an opening. SLITCH, like a bolt of lightning she drew the spear tip across his wrist, severing the tendons and causing him to drop his shield. His fingers fell limp, scarlet blood dripping from them to the dirt below.
“Goddamnit”, he bellowed hacking at her wildly with the sword in his good hand. She weaved around each slash, her lance tip striking like a viper as a rapid series of strikes landed to his chest and legs.
“You can forfeit now... perhaps the healers can save you”, she teased, knowing full well that there was nothing that could be done.
“I’d rather not” He grumbled lowly. “GRAH”, he grunted lashing out in last-ditch effort to kill his foe, but she was ready, reversing her spear and using the blunt end to disarm the sword from his hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could the lance pierced his chest, drawing the wind from his lungs. Nothing but blood escaped from his mouth as he keeled over onto the dirt.
“Hell yeah!” Saoirse threw her hands in the air triumphantly as her foe drew his last breath. The crowd went wild. Quickly she spun the spear, centrifugal force cleaning the crimson blood from her spear tip.
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