Chapter 49
One on One
The two men eyed each other as they began to circle, with each man moving clockwise to keep his blade on the side of his enemy. Both were up on their toes as they moved, and were ready for the first hint of an aggressive move from the other.
Being that a super-powered clash between the two would break every kind of regular sword ever made, including Bruce's Cipangan katana, the swords that Dru-Zod and Kal-El carried had each been greatly strengthened by a magical reinforcement spell. Zod had cast his own, while Lara had claimed a mother's prerogative and had done the deed herself for Kal-El.
As for armor, Zod was wearing little more than the breastplate/backplate combination Kal-El had on. His only additions were vambraces to cover his forearms, and lobstered gauntlets to protect his hands.
Both men were huge by human standards, with the main difference physically being that Kal-El was nineteen, while Zod was in his late forties. It was a difference that was no difference due to their solar-fueled powers.
It was a difference of which Kal-El planned to make use.
"I hope this will be just between us," Zod said. He wanted a clean shot at Kal-El and knew full well there were enough other Kryptonians in the loyalist army that one or two were likely already near enough to stab him in the back. Appealing to Kal-El's sense of fairness, a traditional weakness of the House of El as far as Zod was concerned, was his only hope.
Kal-El kept his eyes on Zod, and slipped the small, flat lead box out of its hiding place in the top of his breeches even as he loudly ordered Bruce and his ten man guard to hold the growing crowd back. "This is personal," Kal-El said. "I intend to erase this stain on the honor of Kryptonian chivalry myself."
"You can't afford a personal fight, Dumbass!" Bruce said loudly, which caused any number of shocked gasps from the growing crowd. But that was what Bruce wanted. He wanted everyone to have their eyes on his face, as he took the box from Kal-El and opened it. Walking around in front and putting his back toward Zod so he could face Kal-El, Bruce said, "But if you want a man-on-man duel, I can't stop you. Just remember, if you die, your mother's promised to kill me. So, let me give you a blessing so you can get on with this rank stupidity." Bruce muttered, "Bow a bit, Boy. Make it look like I'm giving you a blessing or something so I can put this thing on you."
Kal-El bowed at the waist, dipping his head just low enough for Bruce to slip the amulet over his head, before tucking it safely inside his breastplate. For this fight, Kal-El was banking on his long months of training with Bruce to give him the critical edge. Kal had reason to believe Zod wasn't used to fighting without his solar-charged abilities, and thus would begin to tire as his older body began to feel the effects of gravity and extreme physical exertion.
"Good luck, my friend," Bruce said quietly as he stepped away.
While Bruce had been sneaking the training amulet onto Kal-El's neck, the prince's ten-man bodyguard had been backing the crowd away from the two combatants to give them ample room.
"Now remember," Kal-El shouted, "this is between the duke and me. No outside interference is allowed." Looking across at the man who'd been the cause of so much death and suffering, Kal-El added, "Let's get this over with. I have someone much more important than you on which to spend my time."
Zod was slightly incensed by the idea that the prince saw him as a minor distraction to be easily dealt with before moving on to something else, but ultimately he didn't care what the prince thought, not as long as he got to stop him from ever thinking again.
Both men spiraled in on the center point of the impromptu dueling circle. Kal-El's face was a blank mask, while Zod's exuded confidence…right until the point where he came within range of the power numbing effect of Kal-El's amulet. Shock rippled across his face then, followed closely by outrage.
"Why?!" Zod bellowed. "Why take away that which makes us unique? That which makes us who we are?"
"Power doesn't make us who we are, Zod. We are defined by our actions, just as the humans are."
Incredulous, Zod stepped closer, almost within striking distance. "That you would dare compare us to them," Zod couldn't even bring himself say the word 'human,' "makes you a traitor to your race just like your father."
"I'm proud to be like him, Zod." There were long-standing rumors about Zod's parentage that Kal-El planned to put to use right now. "But maybe that's because I know who both of my parents are. Too bad you can't say the same."
Bruce was pleasantly surprised to see that Kal-El was willing to engage in this type of personal attack. Hitting a prideful man like Zod below the belt, metaphorically anyway, was bound to make him angry, and an angry man isn't a thinking man. And Bruce knew that Zod's only way of overcoming Kal-El's edge in physical condition was by thinking.
But that wasn't going to happen. Kal-El's last comment had struck Zod in his most sensitive spot. Calling any noble a bastard was grounds for death as their claim to their title was based on the legitimacy of their birth, but saying it to a man who harbored secret doubts about his legitimacy was like waving a red cape in front of a bull. Zod was so enraged that words escaped him. All he could utter as he leapt to the attack was a deep-throated roar.
As Kal-El parried Zod's first strike, he could see the way the muscles in the older man's neck knotted with fury, and he knew he had won himself another important advantage.
Caught in the fist of his fury, Zod lashed out and made the first dozen or so strikes. High slashes, low cuts, and everywhere in between. None of them came close to touching Kal-El, as he easily blocked them all. Kal-El didn't strike back though, not yet. For the moment, he was content to allow Zod to use up his now finite amounts of strength, speed, and stamina in fruitless attacks, while he himself reserved his physical condition for later, when Zod was weak.
Zod's fury only grew as Kal-El refused to trade attacks with him, and his dismay grew blow by blow as the youngster show himself more than capable of stopping any attack Zod chose to make. And then there was the way the boy baited him whenever he spoke.
"Come on, old man! Is that all you've got?" Kal-El sneered. "My sister hits harder than that, and she's never swung a sword in her life." That was technically true; Princess Mara did hit harder than Zod on the rare occasions that Kal-El angered her, but that was mostly because she had never experienced the effects of a training amulet. Kal-El didn't think Zod needed to know that little piece of information.
Zod redoubled his efforts, but even with sweat coating his body like never before in his life, he still made no dent in Kal-El's seamless defense. The more Zod struggled, the more Kal-El smiled, which only served to infuriate Zod even further.
When the point of Zod's sword began to drop from fatigue, he started shouting at Kal-El. "Fight me like a man!" Zod was trying to sound commanding, but it came out sounding like he was whining, and Kal-El mocked him openly.
Using his best little girl's voice, Kal said, "Fight me like a man! Fight me like a man!"
Kal-El moved to the attack then, with his blade whirling around Zod's, biting deeply into his thigh, upper arm, and shoulder on successive strikes. Blood was flowing freely down the left side of Zod's body now. His left arm was useless and his left leg wasn't much better. Holding his sword one-handed, and having shifted all of his weight to his one good leg, Zod was just waiting for the killing blow.
When the blow was slow in coming, Zod said, "Whatcha waiting for, Boy?" Zod's voice became more and more shrill with every word. "Knees going weak at the sight of a little blood? What's the matter? Does Kal-El need his mommy to hold his hand?"
Kal-El swung his sword again, knocking Zod's sword out of his hand, and sending him to his knees.
"I'll not beg for my life," Zod said. "But you'll have to take it from me. We both know if you walk away now, I'll heal almost instantly."
Kal-El wasn't eager to kill Zod. Defeating him had been enough. But he could not order anyone else to do his dirty work for him. "Dru-Zod, Duke of Walachia. For fomenting rebellion against your lawful king and for causing the death of thousands of soldiers, and the wounding of many thousands more, I, Kal-El, Crown Prince of Alemannia, do hereby find you guilty of high treason, for which the only punishment is death."
"Just get on with it!" Zod said. "I grow tired. Tired of your sheep-like bleating, tired of watching my beloved Lara be someone else's wife…just tired of life."
"So be it." Kal-El summoned all of his natural strength and sent his sword whistling through a flat arc that intersected with Zod's neck. Only the strength of the prince's arms, the sharpness of his blade, and the totality of his commitment to the blow allowed his sword to cut through Zod's neck and sever his head.
The small crowd, which had been uncommonly silent through most of the battle, erupted in wild celebration when Zod's head hit the ground. Kal-El whipped off his amulet and gave it to Bruce to put back in the box. When he felt his power come back, he turned to look at the crowd, took in a deep breath, and shouted them to silence. "Celebrate the end of the war if you must," he said, "but don't celebrate the death of this man. He was a hero of two wars, and not one year ago, many of you wanted to be just like him.
"So remember this day. Remember Zod's end. But also remember the man he once was, a man my father used to be proud to call 'friend.'"
Kal-El stooped to wipe his blade clean on the grass before sliding it back into its scabbard. Picking a random officer out of the crowd, Kal-El said, "What is your name?"
The officer bowed low. "Lord Ian Silverman, your Highness."
"Stand up. This is a battlefield, not court." When the young officer stood, Kal-El said, "I'm placing you and your men in charge of making sure, absolutely sure, that no one defiles Duke Dru-Zod's body. Use any means necessary to ensure it, or when I come back, I will make you wish you had."
Having taken care of Zod's body for the moment, Kal-El marched off, with Bruce and his ten man bodyguard close behind him, intent on finding out how the rest of the battle was progressing. By the time they remounted and found Dax-Ur, the surrenders of the individual units of the rebel army were complete.
As they all watched, from Dax-Ur's headquarters, the various units of Zod's army were stacking their weapons in somewhat neat piles before marching to where they were being directed. Seeing that it was over, really over, allowed Kal-El to turn his thoughts to Lana.
She's out there. Somewhere out there Lana is waiting. Kal refused to admit the possibility that Lana could be injured or even be dead.
"Do you have any word on Lady Lana's location?" Kal-El asked.
"She's still up in the pass, isn't she?" Dax-Ur replied.
"Hell no. I saw her and her bodyguard ride down the ridge during the battle."
Dry washing his face with a hand, Dax-Ur said, "I'll send out a patrol to arrest her, as per your order, Milord."
"No. I'll find her. Just let me have a squadron of heavy cavalry for a suitable escort and I'll be fine." So it was that a unit of Kal-El's own Borussian knights were sent for to follow along behind the prince and his eleven man escort. Their presence brought the size of his escort up to fifty, which was more than enough for his purpose. Kal-El knew he could search the battlefield much faster on his own, but he had to take along the escort just in case.
Leaving the command post and the army behind, Kal-El set off to find the one thing that mattered to him most: his love, his life, his Lana.
