As Judy rushed across the dueling circle, she was rewarded by the sight of Nick's eyes noticeably widening in apparent surprise at the ferocity of her charge. Her lunge took her across the distance far too quickly for anything like complete thoughts to cross her mind, but it felt as though all of her training and practice had been distilled down to the point where words were completely unnecessary. Nick was holding his sabre in his left paw with his left foot leading and his body turned to face her, and without even needing to think about it she adjusted her angle of attack to go towards the gap in his defense.
Her instructors would have been proud of how cleanly she accounted for him being left-pawed; after a number of painful strikes to the elbow from a left-pawed goat who had been one of her class's sword masters she had drilled herself in how to position herself just so—veering out a little to the right and aiming for the outside—that her follow through was perfect. If Nick had been even a hair slower the blunt point of her spear would have caught his right shoulder, but he dodged smoothly to the left, bringing up his own blade as he did so.
Judy had advanced a step when he dodged before planting her feet in the gritty dirt and halting her progress; even so Nick had just managed to get into range where his sword might actually be able to touch her. However, as Béla, that gruff old goat of a fencer, had been fond of saying, something that almost hit and a copper piece was worth a copper piece. Judy's counter was just as perfectly timed as her strike had been, bringing the end of her spear that didn't have a tip up and knocking Nick's sabre aside before making a satisfying contact with his gut. He barked a sort of short cough and stumbled, but he hadn't had the wind knocked out of him and Judy knew she had modulated the amount of force she had used perfectly to avoid injuring anything but his bloated pride. She retreated to her edge of the circle, balancing herself on the balls of her feet as she waited for him to do the same.
Judy considered what she had learned from her first point. No matter what he might say, Nick's technique showed that he had some training in how to use a sword; the way he had dodged her first strike had proved it. He hadn't done so with the clumsy awkwardness of a novice, but had side-stepped so smoothly that it was obvious he knew what to do. After that display of fencing technique, his failure to react in time to her counter was a bit more difficult to judge. Could he have been playing with her, willingly giving up the first point to better judge her own reactions? He was obviously clever, and while just as obviously all foxes weren't necessarily tricksters it didn't mean that he wasn't trying to trick her. He had already lied about his experience as a fighter and it didn't seem like much of a stretch to figure he might be hiding as much of his own skill with a sword as he possibly could. He also hadn't so much as tried, so far as Judy could tell, to do anything with alchemy. Then again, Nick was left-pawed. He might have been able to rely on how unfamiliar most fighters were with fighting someone left-pawed so much that he had no idea what to do against someone who had actually properly trained for it.
As Judy looked across the circle at Nick, her mind running around and around as she tried to consider all the angles, he simply smiled widely. He did not look like a mammal who had been caught off-guard; he seemed as smug as ever, as though he had been the one to score the first point and not Judy. Then again, maybe he was just putting on a strong front to try to get inside her head and shake her confidence. He wouldn't succeed of course—but why did he seem so nonchalant?—since Judy had seen enough—but had it only been what he wanted her to see?—that she was simply better—or was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security?—at fighting than he was.
"That was a good point, Carrots," Nick called out, drawling his nickname for her, "You've really got quite the arm with that spear."
He made a show of rubbing, with his right paw, the spot where she had struck him; Judy couldn't help but notice that he had allowed his left paw, still lazily holding his sabre, to remain casually at his side. "I'll be feeling that one tomorrow," he added, with a wink and an exaggerated wince that went from the tips of his ears (which splayed pathetically outwards) to the end of his tail, which shimmied and shook as his body did.
Somehow, he had managed to make words that were objectively compliments and had no obvious hidden meaning sound almost teasing but not quite condescending; he had the air of a parent impressed by a precocious kit. Judy ground her teeth together, telling herself to ignore the jibe. She was better than him and no amount of teasing could make up for his lack of skill unless she allowed it to. "Ready?" she asked, and she thought her voice was remarkably neutral.
Nick's grin, however, widened a degree as though she had betrayed her true feelings. "Any time," he said.
After another three count, Judy advanced, not nearly as quickly as she had for her first strike. Nick moved around the border of the circle slowly, back and forth, even as she advanced, and Judy couldn't help but admire the seeming casualness with which he did so. His knees were loosely bent, each movement graceful in its own way, and even as he maneuvered the tip of his sabre remained pointing unerringly in her direction. Judy had no choice but to rotate with him to prevent him from getting behind her, but he didn't take so much as a step toward her. There didn't seem to be any tension within his body whatsoever, and no matter how she tried to find one she couldn't see any tell that gave a clue as to when he would switch directions. The light of the alchemical torch was bright enough to completely banish the shadows within the ring, but his eyes didn't so much as twitch, let alone shift, to indicate the direction he would go in; he kept his mildly quizzical gaze focused entirely on her. Each step was unerringly within the boundaries of the circle despite the fact that he wasn't looking down at the line.
When Judy had closed the distance enough that any further movement forward on her part would put him within range of her spear while keeping her safely out of the range of his sword, he made no motion to get closer and Judy prepared her gambit. She started backing away, bringing her spear's tip up until the shaft of the spear was resting on her shoulder, one paw gripping it near the butt and the other about halfway up. She kept a careful eye on Nick as she did so, but he simply continued circling the outer edge of the dueling ring—until, that was, she had advanced into striking distance again.
As she brought the tip down, which whistled through the air, he lunged forward with shocking speed, his rear foot crossing over his front as he all but flew at her. With instinct borne of long practice, rather than stopping her strike she let it continue even as the tip of the spear uselessly hit the ground, and then swept sharply to the side. A plume of gritty dirt came up, but more importantly was the ringing metallic sound of Nick's blade catching against the shaft of her spear. The impact sent shocks up Judy's arms; Nick was stronger even than she had guessed, and his reaction to having his attack blocked was nearly instant as he continued past her. He let the blade of his sword run up the shaft of her spear, towards her numb fingers near the spear's butt even as she lifted the spear and tried to disengage.
The moment before the sword's dull edge would have painfully run into her fingers, Judy let go with that paw and spun around on the ball of one foot, her other paw still gripping the spear closer to its head. Nick squirmed to the side an instant too late and caught the blunt spear tip in the middle of his back, sprawling into the dirt as he let go of his sabre. It took the fox a minute to get up, his paws unsteady beneath him as he scrabbled at the dirt, which Judy could sympathize with; it was painful to get hit in the back. "Another good one," Nick acknowledged once he was finally upright again.
His once-magnificent green coat was completely covered with dirt, which also stained the creamy white patch of fur that ran along the underside of his muzzle, but even with his fur dulled by the ubiquitous grit of the Outer Baronies his eyes sparkled just as playfully as ever. "I told you I wasn't much of a fighter," he said, running his right paw carelessly along his left sleeve, "Look, my coat tore."
The embroidered cloth had indeed torn near the elbow, revealing that the dark brown fur of his paws and wrists didn't continue quite that far up his arms; the exposed fur was just as red-orange as most of his head. "I'll have to submit a bill to the City Guard, you know," he said, clucking his tongue even as he shook his head sadly, "Not that they'll respond."
He shrugged expansively as he took up his position at the border of the arena again. "But I suppose this has been fun, hasn't it, Carrots? It's easily worth one coat."
"Ready?" Judy asked, unsure of why he was suddenly so talkative, but Nick shook his head.
"Now, now, just a minute," he said, "You know what would be more fun?"
Judy narrowed her eyes at him, but he chuckled. "So suspicious!" he said, "Even when you nearly have me beat."
Judy could feel her ears perking up, feeling somewhere in her gut that he was angling toward something even without knowing what it was. "Let's make this more interesting," Nick continued smoothly, "If you win, I'll give you this finely made sabre as a token of a battle well fought. Excellently crafted, you know."
He waved the sabre, which glittered in the light of the torch, to emphasize his point. "And if you win?" Judy asked, cutting him off before he had the chance to go on.
"Oh, nothing much," Nick said, "Just one little favor."
"What kind of favor?" Judy asked with mounting suspicion; she was sure that there had to be some kind of trick.
"Nothing illegal, of course," Nick said, seeming unperturbed, "All I ask—and it is a small thing, really—is that you pass my name along to anyone you meet who needs an alchemist."
His words came out as smooth as butter and Judy couldn't help but stare at him. She had half-expected him to ask her to help smuggle things past the gate on their way back to the Middle Baronies or abuse her authority to lean on someone who owed him money (or someone he owed money to) or even to steal something from the City Guard's central library, which was said to contain all sorts of interesting and ancient tomes. "That's it?" Judy asked.
"That's it," Nick confirmed cheerfully, nodding his head.
"But— But I'd do that anyway!" she protested, which was the truth; despite his tendency to tease he was the only alchemist she knew and did seem rather talented.
Nick laughed. "My, we'll have to work on your negotiating a bit," he said, "But I suppose if that's too little, there's another tiny favor you could do for me. Once we get to Phoenix, there's a bookstore I'd like you to visit. The owner won't sell anything to a fox alchemist, you see, but a bunny..."
Nick shrugged. "Well, it's worth a shot," he said with remarkable good humor, "So what do you say? Do we have a deal?"
"I'd do that even if I lose," Judy said.
"Having low expectations pays off again," Nick said cheerfully, "Now—"
"But I've got one condition," Judy interrupted.
"I'm listening," Nick replied.
"I wanted to spar with you to fight an alchemist," Judy said, "And it's not that you're not good with a sword, but..."
"Not quite what you wanted?" Nick asked with an innocent tone.
"No," Judy said, "So I want you to fight with alchemy. If you do win, I'll give you any favor you want."
"As long as it's legal," she hastily added, and Nick nodded.
"As long as it's legal," he said agreeably, and perhaps she imagined it but Judy thought she saw something of a hungry gleam in his eyes, "On three again?"
When they began again, Judy hadn't been quite sure what to expect of Nick's alchemy, so she had lunged forward as quickly as she possibly could. She felt as though she had a decent sense of how quickly the fox could move, and since the greatest advantage his alchemy could give him was unpredictability she didn't want to give him the chance to react. She lunged forward so quickly that it didn't even occur to her until it was too late that when their countdown had reached one Nick had closed his eyes and had not reopened them. When she was almost to the alchemical torch that marked the center of the arena Nick swept one foot through the grit, making a semicircle, and as he did so the torch seemed to explode with pure white light.
Judy had seen powerful alchemical torches, such as the ones that lit up the Royal Palace, but only from a distance and never one so bright as to seem to temporarily turn night back into day. Although her eyes had snapped shut nearly the instant the torch had brightened it had still been too late. Dizzying colors bloomed behind her eyelids, throbbing with an impossible and unnatural brightness, and when she opened her eyes she couldn't see anything. She could still hear Nick's approach, though, and despite the disorientation of being suddenly blind she swung her spear outwards and was rewarded with a sound that could have only been Nick jumping backwards to avoid getting caught by it. Judy blinked rapidly, willing her eyes to work again, even as one of her ears twitched in response to a sudden sound and she threw herself to the side, feeling Nick's presence move past her.
Judy focused everything she could on listening for Nick, trying to divine his movements out of the rustle of cloth and whisper of the pads of his feet against the dirt. She wished she had a bat quauhxicalli; being able to actually see using sound would have been an incredible advantage in the moment, but she had unfortunately decided not to take her quauhxicallis with her into the sparring match. The City Guard demanded usage reports for every single quauhxicalli (in response, she suspected, to guards selling them for tidy personal profits), and Judy thought she'd probably be up for disciplinary charges if she told the truth. Besides, there was still no telling what they might still encounter on the road; it wouldn't do to waste a quauhxicalli she might have a genuine need for later.
Judy tried to banish her scattered thoughts as she rolled to the side again, barely keeping a grip on her spear as she barely dodged another swing from Nick. The spots in her eyes were fading, though, and she desperately pushed her ears to their very limits, trying to hold on just a little bit longer until she could see again. Something, however, was very wrong; although the spots were fading Judy still couldn't see anything. After a brief stab of irrational fear that Nick had permanently blinded her—which nearly resulted in Nick catching her with his sword—Judy realized what it really meant. She couldn't see anything because Nick had, after making the alchemical torch glow impossibly bright, simply made it stop glowing. There was no moon in the sky and the stars weren't nearly bright enough for her eyes but they were for Nick's superior night vision—which became immediately apparent when Nick suddenly called, "My point!"
"But you didn't even touch—" Judy began, but she stopped when the alchemical torch suddenly flared back to life at its usual brightness.
In its silvery white glow, Judy saw that she was beyond the edge of the circle; Nick had tricked her into dodging out of it. It had been, she had to grudgingly admit, clever in its simplicity; all alchemical torches had a simple dial built into them to control the light they gave off and he had somehow simply managed to turn it off remotely after first making it much brighter than usual. "Are your eyes alright?" Nick asked, "Those torches can get awfully bright."
Judy had no idea whether or not he meant the question sincerely or if he was mocking her, so she simply said, "I'm fine."
"Why don't we say turning the torch up is off-limits now, hmmm?" Nick said, "There's so much more that alchemy can do."
Judy simply nodded, vowing to pay more careful attention to what Nick was doing before they started. She told herself that she should have noticed that he had closed his eyes and figured that he would do something with the light. Frustratingly, she felt as though she had almost managed to touch him with her spear, despite being blind, and perhaps if she hadn't had the initial moment of disorientation she could have still won the point and their bout. Judy shook her head as she banished the thought and tried to focus on the next round.
True to his word, Nick did not again immediately make the torch glow impossibly white, his eyes remaining open as Judy tried to figure out what his next move would be. When she had struck him with her spear, she had been able to tell that he wasn't wearing armor underneath his coat, and when he had fallen to the ground there hadn't been anything she could hear jangling or rattling. Perhaps it meant that he didn't have any little vials on him, or perhaps he had sturdier ones than glass, but she wasn't ruling anything out.
If Nick had any kind of concern about what she would do, he didn't show it. In fact, he didn't even move as Judy approached slowly, trying to spot any movement that might signal an attempt at alchemy. She was sure that the semicircle he had drawn in the grit with his foot had been how he had manipulated the torch (the obvious alternative, that he could perform alchemy simply by thinking about it, was rather frightening), but he wasn't moving at all. Suddenly, though, he raised and then stamped one foot and Judy involuntarily squinted her eyes, not sure she could trust his promise not to make the torch too bright for her eyes to handle.
She charged at him, trying to move too fast for him to react, and as a result was nearly swallowed up by the earth. She had no other way of explaining it; there had been a brief rumble before her foot started sinking through the ground as though it was made of mud before the ground simply opened up before her, revealing a triangular hole about six feet deep and six feet wide with walls of impossibly smooth glass that glittered in the light of the alchemical torch. Judy barely checked her momentum in time, pushing her spear hard against the ground to avoid plunging into the pit, but she had no respite. Nick stamped his foot again and another pit simply appeared beneath her spear with just as little warning, the butt of the spear briefly sinking into the seemingly solid ground before it gave way. Judy pulled her spear up and rolled clumsily to the other side, narrowly avoiding yet another pit that had appeared.
How Nick had managed to create the pits so quickly was a puzzle that Judy simply couldn't figure out; she had seen that he needed time to perform the magic. Time, and a drawn-out pattern with—Judy gasped as the solution came to her. "You weren't blunting your sword, were you?" Judy asked as she jumped away from another pit.
Nick chuckled. "Very clever," he said, nodding approvingly, "No I was not."
He shrugged even as he stamped his foot again, opening up another pit. Nick was now standing on a narrow peninsula of ground that extended from the border of the arena, surrounded by a chasm six feet across. Each time he stamped his foot, another segment of the arena dropped away, slowly reducing how much space Judy had left; before too long there simply wouldn't be any way for her to reach him. "I was setting this little surprise up for you," he said.
"Good reflexes, by the way," Nick added as Judy avoided another pit opening up.
In retrospect, what Nick had done was obvious. While he had pretended to be using his alchemy to blunt his sword—which, Judy assumed, had not been sharp at the time he had unwrapped it—he had actually been turning the arena into a giant trap with his alchemy, which also explained why it had seemed to take so long. The design of the trap, a series of triangular pits, seemed to mirror the pattern of interlocking triangles on the piece of linen his sword had been wrapped in, leaving narrow little pieces of ground in between the deep pits. The way the tops of the pits worked, it seemed, was by converting the solid rock into sand, something that Nick seemed to be able to do nearly instantly when he stamped the ground. He had, she realized, turned the entire arena they were fighting in into a magic circle, and he was quite clearly capable of transmuting objects much faster than she had thought.
She had barely noticed it before, but every time a pit had opened the top had simply stopped reflecting light, becoming perfectly black, and then brightening again so fast that it had initially seemed like a trick of the light. Judy looked across the arena at where Nick was standing, and while she tried thinking of some way to get to him she stalled for time. "How do you do alchemy without the—" she began, but Nick cut her off with one wave of the paw.
"The candle and the water and all that?" he interrupted, "I've got the earth and the wind for my focus. Not having fire or water is a bit limiting for me—not that it'll help you—but turning stone into sand isn't really changing much."
He shrugged carelessly, and Judy understood; he was gradually reducing how much room she had to maneuver, and once she was in a pit it was all over. That wasn't the same thing as saying that he was winning, though, and Judy had the beginning of an idea. "You didn't show me you could transmute this quickly," she said, trying to gauge how well she could use what was left of the arena.
Some of the borders between the pits were walls only an inch or so thick, made of smooth glass topped with a gritty layer of dirt. Judy thought she could keep her balance and she knew she could either throw her spear or jump the six feet between Nick's little peninsula and the nearest wall, but once she committed to either one she'd have no second chance; it would be all or nothing. "Most mammals find alchemy more impressive if it looks like it takes a lot of effort and they get to see all the color changes," Nick replied, smiling crookedly, "That's just being a good merchant."
"You didn't have to lie," Judy said, even as she tried positioning herself.
It would have to be a quick sprint along the top of a narrow wall that made a number of geometrically precise turns followed by a flying leap, and all she needed was an opportunity. "It would have still been impressive," she continued; Nick had succeeded in goading her, and it seemed natural to try returning the favor.
"I never lied," Nick replied, "I might have exaggerated a little—"
"A little?" Judy retorted.
"Or possibly a lot," Nick acknowledged smoothly, "But it really is hard to get good results when you hurry alchemy along. You see how ragged the—"
As Nick spoke, he turned to gesture down at the edge of the nearest pit to him, and Judy seized the opportunity. She ran along the tiny balance beam that was the wall and made a flying leap, her spear point thrust forward before her. The expression on Nick's face—an almost comical O of surprise—lasted just long enough that Judy felt sure she was going to make it. Nick, however, rolled out of the way and into the nearest pit and Judy realized the flaw in her plan too late. She had only considered whether or not Nick would be able to get in a blow before she could; she had figured that the only options would be that either she would get him or he would get her. Without Nick there to collide into, however, there was nothing stopping her from painfully hitting the ground and once more sliding out of the arena.
Judy tried digging in her nails and her spear as she slid but it did nothing but make her dirty, and she stopped about three inches outside the ring. "Your point," Judy said.
After a series of rather colorful curses that echoed slightly in the pit Nick was trapped in, he managed to pull himself up on the lip of the pit he was in, and once he was out he blinked at her. "Yes it is," he said, but he didn't sound mocking.
Rather, he seemed genuinely surprised that she wasn't taking the opportunity to cheat; it would have been rather easy to stand up, turn around, and use her spear to poke down at him in the pit where he likely would have been at her mercy. "Well," Nick said after a long moment, "I better fix this up before our next round."
He gestured vaguely at the pockmarked arena, which outside the heat of battle was a remarkable microcosm of the Outer Baronies. The glass-lined pits Nick had created as traps were strikingly similar to the craters that dotted the wastelands, full of milky and broken glass, and Judy supposed that if he didn't fix the pits they might eventually resemble them even more closely albeit at a smaller scale. Time might make the grass crack and fall apart, and the grit carried by the wind might turn the glass translucent, and some future traveler might not even be able to tell the difference. Only the two of them would know; it would be one of those pointless little secrets they would take to their graves. "Assuming you want to go another round, of course," Nick added, and his voice was full of its old teasing quality again, "There's no shame in quitting."
"Yes there is," Judy replied, although she couldn't help but smile.
"That's the spirit," Nick said, and Judy noticed that he was panting.
Perhaps he had exaggerated how much time and effort alchemy really took from him, but it obviously wasn't completely effortless. Creating the trap, and then activating it, had clearly taken its toll, and Judy wondered how many tricks he had left. Even if he did manage to win, though, Judy was sure she wouldn't have to worry about earning Nick's respect; she was pretty sure she already had it. "Come on," Judy said, trying to hide a smile, "Stop stalling."
Nick chuckled and set his palms against the edge of the arena. "It is easier with my paws, by the way," he said, and Judy nodded seriously.
"I'll make sure I take advantage of that," she said, and Nick laughed.
Something between them had changed over the course of the four rounds they had fought; somehow Nick felt more like a friend than he did like a responsibility or a traveling companion. As Nick repaired the arena, teasing her for being a taskmaster, Judy couldn't help but feel that Nick felt the same.
Author's Notes:
Although it was tempting to put in a nod to "The Princess Bride" by having Nick switch from wielding his sword with his left paw to his right, I chose to keep Nick in this story left-pawed. In real-world fencing, being left-handed is actually a decent advantage at the lower levels of the sport. There's no intrinsic advantage to using one hand over the other, but since only about 10% of the population is left-handed it means that left-handed fencers have much more experience fighting right-handed fencers than right-handed fencers have fighting left-handed fencers. I've seen amateur left-handed fencers clean up at épée tournaments even when there were technically superior right-handed fencers; it can be difficult for right-handed fencers to adjust their form against left-handed fencers. Conversely, one of the more amusing épée bouts I've seen was between two left-handed fencers who both had no idea how to handle fighting someone who used the same form that they did since they had never gone up against another left-handed fencer until they faced each other.
Judy's fencing instructor from her academy days is named after a left-handed fencer who I consider myself very fortunate to have known; he was a wonderful teacher and despite his age still an excellent fencer. He was also fond of striking the forearm or elbow of any right-handed fencer who went up against him and forgot to adjust their technique for fighting a lefty.
I did my best to make the work with spear and sword accurate to how the weapons were historically used. After her first point, on her second advance, Judy brings her spear into the high guard position, which is particularly useful for rapidly dropping the point to make a fast strike with a great deal of power behind it. Nick's response is a flèche, a technique in fencing in which the rear leg crosses over the front, which requires a little explanation. In the major Western fencing styles—sabre, foil, and épée—the fencer's positioning is generally as Nick's is described. The fencer holds themselves with one foot (on the same side of the body as their weapon hand) leading and the other trailing, the torso turned to face forward along the leading leg. Standing like this allows the weight of the fencer to be held over the trailing leg, providing excellent stability, and advances or retreats are made with careful footwork to avoid the distance between the legs from growing too large, which threatens the balance. In a normal attack, the trailing leg provides striking power, but in a flèche attack the fencer uses their front leg to propel themselves forward after the initial impulse, crossing over their legs as they advance by switching their trailing leg to their leading leg.
Notably, the flèche technique is banned in sabre fencing (which prohibits the fencers from crossing their legs over; all advances and retreats must be done with the leading and trailing feet remaining as leading or trailing) and is only allowed in foil and épée. However, all three modern fencing styles are distinctly sports nowadays more so than valid fighting methods, and while Nick's strike would be cheating in sport fencing in a real battle there weren't exactly strictly followed rules.
Judy's response is to continue her strike from high guard to go into Olber, a spear positioning with the tip downward, and sweeping.
Once alchemy becomes involved, all bets are off, but I did follow the rules I established; I think it's pretty in-character for Nick to have deliberately put on a show earlier in this story at the same time he hides his true ability.
As always, thanks for reading! I'm sorry if you find the cliffhanger disappointing, but I thought the pacing worked best splitting the conclusion out. I would love to hear what you thought.
