Chapter 4: "Luck of the Draw"
Sebastian was in despair. He had tried to tell his mother of his sister's activities, in the hopes that she would put her foot down, do something and take her out of danger. No, she sat there in the kitchen, nursing a cup of tea in her hands with an expression of complete nonchalance. He groaned and rested his head on his crossed arms.
"I was hoping Underhill would beat her," he muttered. When Candida said nothing, he slammed both fists down on the wooden table and stood up.
"Have you been listening to me?!" he cried. "Your daughter is dressing up as a boy in order to duel illegally!" From the room above there was a thump of something hitting the floor and a muffled moan of protest, followed by a voice yelling,
"You'll come right downstairs this instant, little madam!"
"My dear," said Candida, "I'm quite sure your poor grandfather would roll in his grave to hear you speak with such a tone. The Queen hasn't stopped her, so it can't be illegal." Sebastian slapped his palm to his face.
"I cannot believe I'm hearing this," he whined. "You honestly find nothing wrong with her decorum? Come on! Show a little support for your first-born, will you?!" At this point, Mrs Nesbitt appeared as if by magic in the room (and between you and me, she is very witch-like), tugging poor Gwendolyn – still dressed only in her nightgown – by the ear. The girl was biting back tears and releasing a strained,
"Ow-ow-ow!" noise.
"Here she is," said the old mistress, "now what's the little wretch done this time?"
"Thank you, Mrs Nesbitt," said Candida. "I'll take charge from here while you return to your duties."
"As you wish, Mrs Blackwood," Mrs Nesbitt scowled. She hesitated for a second, then let go of the girl and stalked out of the room. Gwendolyn covered her sore ear.
"Can we get a new one?" she asked timidly. "This one's mean." A long silence hung in the air, and when Gwendolyn saw her brother's uncertain expression, she realised he had told on her. How could he? Well, he could expect to find a frog in his bed tonight and no mistake!
"So," said Candida finally, "who are you duelling next, dear-heart?" Another pause. The siblings stared at each other in amazement.
XXX
The first duel of the day was now beginning. Arthur Pomeroy, heir to a prominent trading company, and Lord Tarquin Whitehawk, heir to the Earldom of Sussex, were cutting and shuffling each other's decks as up on her throne, the Queen was talking to Lord Walsingham.
"I wonder how long it will take Mr Pomeroy to win?" she yawned. There was no denying she had a special place in her heart for cultured men. Due to his position, Arthur had travelled to other countries with his father, and one of those had been Japan, where he had quickly discovered an affinity for that language, as well as others. Whitehawk, on the other hand, was a decent gentlemen but also a spineless jelly.
"Your Majesty," Walsingham replied in hushed protest, "I really do not think that sort of talk is appropriate."
"Oh, pish-posh, Walsy," the Queen chuckled. "You know I cannot resist a man of such calibre."
"Yes, Your Majesty, but you see…Lord Whitehawk can hear us." The two looked down at the competitors. Arthur had one hand behind his head and was blushing deeply, while Whitehawk looked as if God had just materialised, pointed at him and said, "I hate you." His eyes were big, wet, quivering, black pools and his lips were trembling.
"You know, Walsy," the Queen muttered, "I do believe he's about to cry."
"Bad luck, old boy," said Arthur, trying to sound sympathetic.
XXX
In the palace kitchens, preparations for the royal luncheon were well underway. Gwendolyn stood by a serving cart as Molly loaded it with the Queen's favourites. She listed them off thusly;
"Five baked blackbirds, one Pudding of Goose Blood, Calf's Head served with oysters, Marmalade of Apricocks served on a sugar-plate and a posset. That seems tae be all." Gwendolyn grimaced a little at the rich cuisine, then turned to the old cook.
"Has Mary recovered yet?"
Molly walked over the pantry door and pushed it open. They could see nobody, but there was definitely the sound of a girl hysterically screaming and sobbing. After a couple of seconds, Molly pulled the door shut again.
"Might jus' be me, but Ah dinnae think so, lass."
"Well, guess it can't be helped," Gwendolyn sighed, "I won't be long." With that, she rolled her trolley through the corridors while humming Green Sleeves to herself. It was a tune she enjoyed because it was simple but elegant. She eventually came to the curtain pulled across the door to obscure the duel in progress. She poked her head around and called out,
"Your Majesty, lunch is here," quietly enough so as not to distract the players. The Queen nodded to her and Gwendolyn pushed the trolley over. As she, Walsingham and Cecil (who had appeared with that same ghostly quality possessed by Mrs Nesbitt) partook of what was available, Gwendolyn watched the duel as an Asian man in green armour sliced his two swords downward, cutting a large, vicious-looking snake into three equal pieces. Whitehawk was sweating profusely. The Queen glanced at the servant girl and narrowed her eyes thoughtfully.
"Are you new, girl?"
"Oh, ah, yes, Your Majesty, I just started this week."
"You have quite a nasty bruise there," the Queen raised one hand to point a well manicured finger at the dark mark on the girl's forehead. "Perchance, how did you come by it?" Gwendolyn mentally slapped herself. Of course! The bruise from that blasted bubble bomb during her battle with Sebastian. It was nowhere near as bad as it had been before, but it was still noticeable.
"Oh, this?" she squeaked, putting her hand over the blemish. "I, ah, walked into a door."
She heard Walsingham mutter, "Clumsy child." By the time they were finished with their meal, Whitehawk was sprawled on the floor, twitching and gibbering. She wanted to say he reminded her of Underhill, but something about his face made him too – well, I suppose you could say he was too cute, too pathetic and vulnerable, to hate. She took their plates and left, but not before shooting Walsingham a quick, annoyed glare for his insult. The advisor cocked an eyebrow in return but said nothing.
XXX
The Pink Pony was a little establishment on the Thames riverfront, with little but loyal custom. Due to its name, flamboyantly French décor and the questionable gender of its proprietor, one Vivienne Crowler, anybody with a reputation to uphold would not find themselves within ten yards of the place. Perhaps that was why Sebastian Blackwood and his two friends frequented it, away from the prying eyes of the court and the agents planted by the ever-resourceful Robert Cecil. Even the royal spymaster's men tended to keep their distance. Ms Crowler was simply too strange for them, and yet they claimed to have seen demons in the dark corners of the capital without flight. It was the evening of the second day of the finals, and the trio were celebrating their respective victories.
"A toast!" announced the slightly drunken Arthur, raising his stein. "To Donovan Smyth, Esq., whose luck was finally on his side!" He emptied his drink and Ms Crowler walked over to refill it from a ceramic flagon.
"And a toast!" the even drunker Donovan added. "To Arthur Pomeroy, Esq., who at last realises my greatness!" He knocked back the ale. Ms Crowler rolled her eyes and refilled it again. It got up her nose that these three – or at least two in particular – could get quite loud when drunk and it sometimes bothered the rest of her clientele, but they never started brawls and they paid long and well so she usually left them to it.
"And of course," said both Arthur and Donovan together, "a toast to our best mate, Mr Sebastian Blackwood, who's paying tonight since he lost before us!"
"I hope Cecil p-pays you well, Sebsy old boy," Donovan slurred, "because we… we are…" he belched, "far from finished."
"You're drunk," said Sebastian with a deadpan expression.
"I…I am not drunkening…!" the blonde youth protested, swinging his stein dismissingly. "I got the constitution of a brass helethump! A-and tomorrus, U'm gonna absolutely pulveraish t'other'un!"
"Pulveraish!" Arthur hooted. "Sounds a bit rude, doesn't it? Sounds like…"
"Bum!" they both yelled. Sebastian shook his head and smiled. What a pair those two made. His expression became serious when he remembered who Donovan would be duelling the next put a hand on his friend's arm.
"Look, Don," he said, "I'm really happy that you won today, but do me a favour."
"Anyshing fo' m' besht chum!" Donovan beamed.
"Could you take it easy on your opponent tomorrow?"
"Why…? He a friend o' yours?"
"Well, not necessarily, it's just…"
"Then what'sh the promblem?" Donovan blinked. "Ifish goes well, people will rrecognise the namea Smyth again." He winked playfully. "I might even ask the Queeng if you two can watch me grind MacWood into shawdust."
"Shawdust! Damn good show!" Arthur cheered and raised his drink again. "To Donovan, sending the outsider home, crying like a wench!" They both whooped and knocked their steins together. Sebastian buried his face in his hands. You don't know the half of it, he thought morosely.
XXX
"Oh, God! My head!" Donovan cried, clutching his temples between his hands.
"It's your own fault you're hung over," Arthur shrugged. The three friends were sitting together in the room adjacent to the throne room, waiting for the match to start. "You shouldn't have drunk so much."
"You were drinking too," Donovan groaned.
"I know when I've had enough," Arthur pointed out. He looked about the room. "Where's that MacWood fellow?"
"I'm here," said a voice as the young gentleman ran into the room. Sebastian watched Gwendolyn, dressed this time in a russet and darkish yellow ensemble. She was fixing her cap into place. "Sorry I'm late."
"Well, we'll see if your card skills make up for it," Donovan smirked. "Do me a favour. Make sure you play at your best today. If this final doesn't turn out to be worth all the fuss, there may be consequences." Sebastian knew what was going on. Men liked to psyche each other out, break down mental defences before the game could start in order to affect the outcome. He understood that Gwendolyn was a strong-willed girl, but he had no idea how long it would take her for to crack under such interrogation.
"Been duelling long, Mr MacWood?" asked Donovan. "I've been playing the local tournaments since grammar school. Seeing so many card combinations makes you ready for anything, and I do mean anything."
"All right, that's enough," said Sebastian, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder to silence him. "And remember, be careful. You've seen that this has been like no duel we've been in before." He was praying that whatever kind of power Donovan was packing in his deck case would not put too much physical strain on his sister. He still felt a crushing sensation of guilt for what Andal and Dimacari had done to her.
An aid emerged from the throne room and said, "Donovan Smyth and Douglas MacWood, please come in. Even though the rest of you are no longer in the tournaments, Mr Cecil has requested you be allowed to watch and Her Majesty has consented to this, so if you'd follow me…"
"Well this is different," said Arthur with suspicion.
XXX
While Arthur and Sebastian stood by Robert Cecil at the Queen's side, Donovan and Gwendolyn had already cut and shuffled each other's decks and taken their seats.
"Just to let you know," said Donovan, "luck is on my side lately, so don't be too broken when you lose."
"We'll see who gets broken," Gwendolyn frowned.
"Call it," said Sir Francis Walsingham, flipping his coin.
"Heads!" replied Donovan before Gwendolyn could even part her lips.
"Heads it is," said Walsingham. "Mr Smyth will go first."
[Begin Duel: Donovan Smyth vs. Douglas MacWood]
Donovan drew his opening hand and scanned his cards.
"First," he said, "I'll lay a card face-down, and summon Arcana Force VI – The Lovers (1600/1600), in attack mode." Two worm-like tendrils – one blue and one pink – grew out of the floor of the throne room and spun around each other, intertwining into a delicate spiral that grew outwards and upwards, changing shape and colour into the most bizarre monster any of them had ever seen. The thing was as tall as a human being and covered completely in black material that moved like silk but rippled and reflected like water. Its round head ending in a pointed tip and oversized hands were a white-brown colour and its shoulders, chest and dress were overlaid with blue armour encrusted with dark magenta gemstones. A pair of red eyes stared out of its otherwise featureless visage.
"What in heaven's name is that thing?" asked the Queen, utterly fascinated.
"This is an Arcana Force monster, Your Majesty," Donovan explained, "and when one of them is summoned to the field, someone has to flip a coin to decide how it can be used."
"If I may," said Walsingham, flipping his gold coin again and catching it. "Heads."
"Oh, good," said Donovan. "I'll end my turn there."
Gwendolyn looked at the Lovers while drawing her own opening hand cautiously. She did not like the way it seemed to be staring right at her with its big, empty globes.
"I'll start by playing Valhalla, Hall of the Fallen," she said.
"I like this part," the Queen muttered as the throne room was replaced with the beautiful open-air temple.
"And since I have no Fairy monsters on my field, I'll summon Athena (2600/800) in attack mode." The white-robed Greek goddess appeared. "Athena, attack-"
"Oh no you don't!" Donovan interrupted with a wag of his finger. "I'll activate my face-down Trap Card, Bottomless Trap Hole!" An abyss opened in the floor beneath Athena and she toppled into it. She held onto the edge with all her might, but the wailing, swirling, laughing entities within took hold of her and dragged her down. The goddess' scream of anguish was cut off as the hole sealed above her, leaving no trace that she had ever existed. "Because you summoned a monster with more than 1500 attack points, not only does my Trap Hole swallow her up, but she is removed from play completely."
"You'll pay for that move, Smyth," Gwendolyn growled. "I'll set one monster in face-down defence and end my turn there."
[Donovan's L.P.: 8000 / Gwendolyn's L.P.: 8000]
"Now the fun starts," Donovan chuckled as he drew. "I get to hit something. I'll summon Arcana Force IV – The Emperor (1400/1400) in attack mode!" The new monster that appeared hovering beside the Lovers was a floating apparition clad completely in steely-violet armour over the same living liquid as its fellow monster. It had no legs, but two large, flat wings kept it aloft, two short arms attached to the ball of its waist and three tendrils ending in claw-tipped ebony spheres grew out of each shoulder. A small skull peered out from beneath a batwinged helmet.
"Another coin, if you'd please, Sir Francis."
"Heads," Walsingham reported.
"Marvellous," said Donovan. "When the Emperor's coin-flip lands on heads, all my Arcana Force monsters gain 500 attack points. So now my Emperor attacks your face-down monster." Red orbs opened up on different spots all over the creature's armoured body and from each one there spat a beam of scarlet light that struck the floor in front of Gwendolyn's table. The ground rippled as a fist sized glass bubble grew out of the rug and shattered. There goes my first Mystical Shine Ball, Gwendolyn thought. I cannot lose focus and underestimate him. She had a sinking feeling that this one would be difficult, or at least very cunning.
"Next," said Donovan, "the Lovers will attack your Life Points directly with her Curse of Heartbreak!" The monster in question held out her arms, and like the tentacles of some vast sea monster, they extended until they reached Gwendolyn. The oversized hands clamped shut around her head and as she struggled, the three gemstones on the monster's bosom glowed. An image of a love heart appeared over Gwendolyn's chest. It beat for a few seconds and then broke apart. The Lovers' arms retracted as Gwendolyn put one hand to her chest. I felt it, she thought, I felt my heart freeze.
"I can see you crying," Donovan smirked, brushing the spot under one eye. Gwendolyn wiped her face on her sleeve.
"Shut up," she growled. "It's my turn…" She drew. "First, I'll use Valhalla's ability to summon a second Mystical Shine Ball (500/500) and tribute it in order to call…" A second fist-sized orb emerged from the floor and was wrapped in light. Two albino-white hands in cobalt blue-and-gold armoured sleeves tore the light apart and out stepped a tall knight with amber eyes staring from a pale face inked with black markings. Two red wings opened on its back.
"…My Fallen Angel Desire (3000/2800)! First, I'll use his special effect. By reducing his attack points by 1000, I can send one monster you control to the graveyard, and I choose to send your Emperor!" Desire crossed his arms over his chest then with a mighty roar he swung them both outwards. A wave of gold light flew out and sliced the Emperor in half, spraying green blood all over Valhalla's floor. The two pieces tried to remain in the air, but they fell and disappeared into the rug as if it were a pool. Donovan winced.
"And now Desire, destroy the Lovers with Celestial Scissors!" Desire raised his arms as two silver claws sprouted from the tip of each of his armoured sleeves. He kicked off and flew towards the enemy monster. The claws clamped shut around the Lovers' neck and waist, sending all three segments toppling through the air before they burst into shards. Returning to his former place, the dark angel licked green blood from his weapons and sneered threateningly.
[Donovan's L.P.: 7600 / Gwendolyn's L.P.: 5900]
So he's going to use field-clearing tactics, Donovan thought, drawing his next card. Well, two can play at that.
"I play one card face-down and summon Arcana Force 0 – The Fool (0/0) in attack mode." In a shower of sparks, a scrawny entity with silver skin materialised. It had two bulging azure eyes and wore a simple purple vest trimmed with indigo accompanied by billowing tight-ankled trousers. Orange shoes with pointy ends covered its feet and a multitude of long, black liquid dreadlocks hung from the back of its head. A yellow third eye opened on its forehead and five more on its shoulders and down the front of its torso.
Walsingham had by now gotten the hang of the Arcana Force creatures and flipped his coin. "Tails."
"I'll end my turn there. Try clearing out my side now, MacWood," said Donovan.
"Gladly!" Gwendolyn drew. "I'll also play one card face-down, and Fallen Angel Desire will slice your Fool into salad! Go!" The angel pounced on the Fool, but his scissors never made contact.
"I activate my Trap Card!" cried Donovan. "Waboku!"
Three golden-skinned women in teal robes appeared in front of the meek monster. The two at the back put their hands on their leader's arms, and the leader held out a bat-shaped key, from which expanded a transparent wall. Desire returned to his original place with an indignant scowl while the Fool clapped his hands happily. I could have simply used Desire's special effect and removed the Fool without attacking it, Gwendolyn thought, but that would cost me another 1000 attack points, and I have no idea what happens because of the Fool's coin-flip. I may have ended up just hurting myself. It was a wise decision even if it was just a guess.
[Donovan's L.P.: 7600 / Gwendolyn's L.P.: 5900]
Donovan drew, and his smile was so like a wolf's it made Gwendolyn cringe.
"First, I'll tribute my Fool," he said, and the monster he spoke of suddenly looked worried, hunching his back and wringing his thin hands, "to summon Arcana Force XII – The Hanged Man (2200/2200)!" The rug rumbled as a column of liquid glass sprouted up. It grew and grew and grew until it almost touched the ceiling and curved at the top, hardening into a thing of divine loveliness. A rope, which also appeared to be crafted from glass, descended from the top and looped itself around the Fool's neck. With a brief gurgling choke, the Fool was whipped into the air and his neck was snapped. The poor monster hung suspended from the terrible gallows. The glass rope began to melt and increase until it smothered its victim in a cocoon.
"That's…oh my, I think I'm going to be quite sick," the Queen choked.
"Now MacWood's in trouble," said Arthur. "If the coin lands true, he's going to have to pull a miracle out of his cap." Sebastian stuck his knuckles between his teeth to keep from crying out.
"You swine, you executed your own monster like a common criminal?!" Gwendolyn yelled.
"Everything has its use, and his use was to die," Donovan told her. "Now, Sir Francis, the coin please."
Walsingham flipped. "Tails."
"Perfect," smirked Donovan, "and so I'll use the Hanged Man's effect to remove your monster and deal damage to your Life Points equal to its total attack points." The cocoon dropped from its holding and smashed on the floor. A new rope swished off the top of the tree and wrapped itself around Desire's neck. The fallen angel struggled to hold his ground but it was useless. He was whipped up into the air, his neck snapped, and his corpse encased just like the Fool. "Now I'll attack your Life Points directly." The cocoon dropped again and this time the new rope looped around Gwendolyn's throat. As it started to tug and tighten, she played her face-down card.
"Negate Attack!" she yelped. A small red-and-blue portal opened around the middle of the rope and with a swirl of white magic, both ends were sucked in, leaving the tree bare and the girl with a mere red mark around her neck. That was a close one, but my Life Points are still vulnerable. I need to gain the advantage or I'm finished. She drew, and breathed a sigh of relief.
"All right, Smyth. You've proven yourself to be a clever player, but your luck's just run out. I'll use Valhalla to call on my Wingweaver (2750/2400), and I'll also summon Bountiful Artemis (1600/1700) in attack mode."
In a flash, two new figures appeared. One was a tall woman with pink skin and flowing plum-coloured hair. She was elf-beautiful and filled the room with a fragrance like fresh flowers. She wore a yellow dress, two emeralds - a small one on her forehead and a larger one between her breasts – and a sapphire in her belt. Six blue wings spread behind her. The other was a floating, legless and featureless statue of white-and-malachite marble. Its triple-layered wings were on stalks that grew from somewhere behind its neck. Its only attire was a deep purple cape trimmed with yellow.
"Bountiful Artemis, destroy the Hanged Man!" Gwendolyn commanded.
"You're mad," said Donovan, "my monster is far stronger than yours!"
"That's what you think," Gwendolyn smiled as the marble statue flew towards the tree, the markings on its body glowing brightly, "but by dropping Honest (1100/1900) from my hand, I can give my monster attack points equal to those of its target, raising Bountiful Artemis' power to 3800! Artemis, Malachite Inferno!" The statue held its hands out towards the tree. The green glow from its body travelled down its arms and into its palms, and with a deafening explosion, the Hanged Man was vaporised in a storm of green flames.
"With your defences destroyed, I'll have my Wingweaver attack your Life Points directly. Go, Storm of Six Wings!" The angel rose up into the air and flapped all six of her beautiful wings at increasing speed, brewing up a windstorm that engulfed Donovan's side of the field, before her entire body shrank into an arrow of pink energy that swooped down, passed through Donovan, circled back and returned to her original shape. The windstorm died down, revealing the blonde man skin to be covered in small scratches and his hair thrown out of shape. His shirt had been torn open and Gwendolyn could see a bruise forming where the arrow had hit him.
[Donovan's L.P.: 3250 / Gwendolyn's L.P.: 2600]
No, this is all wrong, Donovan kicked himself mentally. In the past, his Hanged Man had always been the one to ensure his victory, but now it was gone and he was without a solid strategy. What was it about this man that shook up his confidence and made him act so carelessly? He drew and groaned inwardly. Nothing that could help him.
"I'll just set a monster in face-down defence and end my turn." Gwendolyn drew. Her own confidence was growing as her opponent's was dwindling.
"I'll tribute Wingweaver and Bountiful Artemis," she said as the two monsters floated upwards into the sky, "and summon Majestic Goryu (2900/1800) in attack mode!" There was a flash and a roar as the winged serpent coiled its way down from up high. "Destroy the face-down card!" Donovan paled as his only card (a second Fool) was reduced to dust by the dragon's fiery breath. Due to the terrifying creature's ability to damage him regardless of the position of his monster, his Life Points had now been hacked away to almost nothing. Now feeling desperate, he drew again. Still nothing. There was not a single monster in his hand. All he could do was prolong the agony.
"I'll set a card face-down," he murmured, hoping MacWood would not call his bluff. Unfortunately, the next turn would prove to be his ultimate undoing.
"I'll play Bait Doll," said Gwendolyn, throwing down the card she had just drawn. "Since I'm not quite sure what you just played, I'll force its activation, and if the timing's wrong, that card is destroyed!" A small painted wooden doll emerged from the floor, grasping a green hammer in its tiny hands. The doll bounced into the air and descended towards the spot in front of Donovan's table. The hammer smashed down onto it and a dome of turquoise light appeared for a second before sizzling out harmlessly. Donovan covered his face with one hand, peeking through the gap between two fingers as his Draining Shield was discarded and Goryu reared up to finish the duel. The golden fire blanketed him utterly.
[Donovan's L.P.: 0 / Gwendolyn's L.P.: 2600] [End Duel: Winner – Douglas MacWood]
Donovan lowered his arms as the Hall of the Fallen faded back to the throne room and the monsters returned to their slumber. His entire body was lightly toasted (he actually thought, I smell good) and his clothes quite badly blackened. Thankfully his cards seemed to have survived any damage, though of course that was all part of the logic-defying magic of the Fairy Pins.
"Mr MacWood," said the Queen, "you may approach." The winner did as bid, standing up from behind her table and turning to face the monarch. She ascended the short stairway between her and the throne and bowed as Walsingham presented a sword from beneath his cape.
"It is only proper that I raise your status appropriately, as you will now be part of my most trusted inner circle," said Elizabeth, taking the sword, "so…kneel, Douglas MacWood, and arise…Sir Douglas MacWood, Duellist Royal to the monarchy of England." Gwendolyn could barely control the smile that rose to the surface of her skin. Granted, it was the wrong gender, but considering the circumstances, she was honoured beyond comprehension. Cecil and Walsingham clapped. Arthur outright applauded, joined shortly by Sebastian, who despite his reservations was feeling immensely proud of his sister right now.
Donovan stood up and called, "Sir Douglas!" The girl turned. Donovan clapped and said, "We should do this again some time."
"Yes," Gwendolyn nodded. "We should."