Festum Gladius Chapter 47

Cold air brushed over his face, the tang of midnight biting into his skin. The breeze was strong, adding to the chill but he ignored it. The Arena Victorum was filled with noise as the crowd waited with bated breath. Space Marines from many Chapters watched, among them defeated Champions, come to see who would emerge the victor. Next to them were mortals, if they were suffering from the cold they did not let it show, none of them were willing to miss this duel. Novak ignored them too, focusing his spirit and balancing his humours. He would need every mote of his skill for the coming fight.

Across the white stone blocks of the floor Iventus waited. The Ultramarine was lit by harsh floodlights and stood proud in his resplendent armour. His face was a closed book, giving nothing away yet Novak knew he too would be preparing for the duel to come, steadying his spirit and playing out the moves in his head. He was proud and noble, a pure-hearted exemplar of the Adeptus Astartes and it seemed daft to consider that he had ever been a suspect in the murders. To fight him was a prospect that drew no joy but it had to be done, the honour of the Storm Heralds demanded no less. Novak saw the Champion of Ultramar had taken up a long-bladed sword in this right hand and a shorter half-sword in his left, an interesting combination that would produce unexpected moves. Novak in turn trusted his power sword and combat shield, a combination he knew intimately and was sure would serve him well once more.

For minutes the pair stared at each other, judging, weighing and considering strengths and weaknesses. Novak knew enough of Iventus to determine he was a driven and supremely skilled, a master duellist. He was a straight-forward thinker, their exchanges in the Feast proved that beyond doubt but that was no weakness. Many swordsmen played with their style, wasting time on flashy moves and complicated feints but an honest soul like the Ultramarine went straight for the kill. His style was practical, direct and utterly deadly. There was also the matter of the Furnace, that additional Primaris organ that could lend deadly speed and strength if triggered by a misplaced blow. If Novak wasn't wary he could well lose the duel in the first five seconds.

What Iventus thought of Novak remained a mystery, there was no way to tell what he judged the Strom Herald to be, only the clash of blades would reveal his thoughts. So Novak let his concerns subside and concentrated on the moment, flexing his muscles and keeping sharp. Soon the duel would begin and to the victor went the spoils. A place in the lauded Victrix Guard, a fate that gave Novak shivers but one he had committed to, there was no backing out now.

Suddenly the hubbub of the Arena was cut as Cato Sicarius addressed the crowd from the Master's viewing box. He lifted his head proudly to declare, "Friends, comrades and honoured guests. Today the Feast of Blades come to its end and a victor shall emerge. Iventus of the Ultramarines or Novak of the Storm Heralds, one shall earn the highest honour a Space Marine can know: to stand at the side of the Primarch Reborn and defend his life with their own. This duel is not to first or third blood but shall continue until one Champion is rendered dead or unable to fight on. In combat shall the worthiest be determined and so it shall end. Champions… begin."

Novak shrugged on his repaired helm and saw the grainy wash of autosenses sweep over him. Iventus did the same and Novak drew his blade as they moved together and quipped, "You ready to dance?"

Iventus' voice was clear and steady as he said, "This is no dance, as you shall soon learn."

"Oh crack a smile," Novak bantered, "This will be fun."

"Humour is a distraction," Iventus growled, "You seek to beguile me into lowering my guard, it shall not work."

Novak snorted, "Really you need to…"

Suddenly Iventus was moving, leaping across the shrinking distance with his blades stabbing out. The long-handled blade shot for Novak's hearts while the half-sword stabbed up at a flank. It was a bold move, a winning move, but Novak had been expecting it. He saw the move coming and rather than retreat he advanced, jumping into the strike. Iventus had not expected the Firstborn to react so and his strike went awry. Novak parried the long-blade with his sword and his shield deflected the half-blade as the pair slammed together with the ringing of Ceramite upon Ceramite. As they collided Novak drove his helm forward, slamming the crest on top of his helm into the taller Primaris' jaw and sending him staggering back, waving his blades before him to fend off a follow-up.

"First blood to me," Novak chortled.

Iventus halted his retreat and hefted his swords as he growled, "Cheap trick."

"You get no points for playing fair," Novak retorted.

"I'll remember that," Iventus snapped as he lunged forward.

The Ultramarine attacked with a flurry of lunges and slices, his twin blades seemingly everywhere. It was a dazzling display of skill, fast and furious, agile and cunning. Yet there was nothing flashy in it, nothing wasteful or brazen, each stroke was meant to end the duel and all would have crippled had they made contact. The crowd roared in approval as the onslaught came at Novak but he heard it not. He closed his ears and focused only on the duel, meeting and deflecting each strike as it came. Again and again his blade blocked thrusts, his shield moving fluidly to deny the half-blade and his feet danced as he moved back.

The world fell away, leaving only the pair of warriors locked in a ballet of death. Novak felt the rhythm of the fight sweep him up and carry him away, taking him to a place of pure zeal. The mechanics of the fight blurred together, strikes and parries, advances and retreats forming a beautiful pattern. The fight was no longer an exchange of blows it was artistry itself, a pure display of motion and zeal as wondrous as it was deadly. This was the true heart of combat and it was where Novak excelled. He was a dancer upon the stage, a painter labouring at his canvass and he felt his soul exult at the purity of the moment. Fighting Janus had been a heavy burden, fighting Maxath had been fury and wroth but against Iventus there was only the beauty of the fight itself. Pure and unadulterated by hate, for the first time Novak felt joy in the fight.

Iventus for his part seemed equally focused, the Ultramarine proving relentless in his drive. His attacks were ceaseless and all deadly but Novak met them with elan and grace. A thrust came for his hearts but he twisted aside and let it sail past him, in return his sword went low, slicing over thigh armour to draw blood. The extended arm jerked upwards and Novak felt an elbow slam into his helm like a hammer striking a brass gong. His world blurred but he lost not a step as he pivoted and sliced low, trying to hamstring the Primaris. Iventus however drew his leg up and kicked back, hitting Novak in the rear and propelling him away.

Novak staggered for a moment then spun about to find Iventus pressing his advantage. Both swords went high, in a cross that would have decapitated the Storm Herald but Novak ducked and slammed the edge of his shield down onto the Ultramarines' foot. There was a loud crack of Ceramite and bone shattering and Novak knew he had just broken every bone in his foe's foot. Yet Iventus barely seemed troubled, his knee shot up and caught Novak in the chin, sending him away.

Novak retreated as Iventus regrouped, stepping left as he circled. Despite everything Novak was impressed, that blow had certainly crippled Iventus and yet his tread gave away no hint of injury, he stepped confidently, betraying no weakness. Either Novak had misjudged his blow or the Primaris was in howling agony, holding it at bay through an iron will. Novak wasn't sure he could do the same, not as completely as the Ultramarine was doing.

Novak stepped right and hissed, "Doesn't that hurt?"

"It's excruciating," Iventus replied solemnly, "It makes no difference though, I shall end you."

"Then I'll have to keep breaking things until I find something that sticks," Novak snorted.

Suddenly Iventus attacked, his blades going high and low simultaneously. Novak barely fended them off as he fell back in desperation, trying to get room to swing his sword. Iventus gave him no respite, driving forward with unbreakable zeal, keeping the fight close and tight where he held the advantage. Novak fought to his uttermost edge of skill but in the back of his mind he was amazed. Iventus truly was a master combatant but more than this he was driven to win at any cost. Determined, relentless, ambitious he was all these things but his greatest edge was that he wanted to win more than Novak. Iventus craved victory, he yearned to join the Victrix Guard whereas Novak was only fighting because he had to. They both fought to win but Iventus wanted it more.

As he fended off the storm of swords Novak cursed that he had to fight at all. He didn't want to leave his Chapter, he didn't want to join the Victrix Guard, not anymore. He would happily have forfeited the duel had not the Chapter's honour demanded he fight. Duty compelled him to duel… but it didn't compel him to win. Suddenly a thought occurred to Novak, a notion as heretical as it was bold: nobody said he had to win this duel. The very idea struck to the core of him, the idea of giving anything other than his best anathema to his soul, yet he had seen what such fear led others to and would not walk the same path. He knew how good he was, it mattered not what others thought. It was a concept he had never considered before yet one that was as true as it was novel. A way to satisfy honour and get what he wanted, but it would have to be perfectly executed lest everybody see what he had done.

In a heartbeat his mind was made up and he acted. His boot lashed upward and caught Iventus in the groin, sending him staggering back. In that moment of respite Novak bowed low, storing power in his legs and then jumped high, leaping into the air. Both feet left the ground as he soared, sword swinging overhead in a mighty blow. It was a flashy move, reckless and irresponsible, the kind of move no expert swordsman would consider but one everybody would believe a feckless glory-hog would employ. Nobody would doubt that Novak the loudmouth would do such a thing.

He saw Iventus swell as he closed, time slowing in his eyes. His blade fell like a glacier's movements, heading down to cleave the Ultramarines' skull in two. Had he hit the duel would be over but Iventus was not finished. The long blade rose and caught Novak's sword with a clang and then the half-blade stabbed upwards, heading for his flank. Novak could have brought his shield down to deflect but stayed his hand, letting the sword slip past his guard and stab deeply into his side.

Searing pain ripped through Novak and without meaning to his grip weakened. Then he slammed into Iventus' pauldron and felt his whole body thrown aside as he was tossed away. Novak spun head over heels and slammed into the ground with an impact that shook his genhanced bones. His sword fell from his grip, he hadn't needed to affect that move, it had happened automatically without his meaning to.

The world spun about his head as colours flashed in his eyes and then a shadow loomed over him. Iventus' boot caught his sword and kicked it away then two blades were placed in a cross over his throat, a single jerk would slit his throat and end his life. Novak sagged back in acknowledgement that he could not fight on. Meanwhile the Ultramarine stood proudly over Novak's fallen form and held his blades still, a declaration of victory as clear as it was deadly. None could doubt that Novak had lost.

There was a second of hushed silence then the crowd erupted into cheers, howling praises and bellowing exhortations of acclaim. Iventus waited a moment to make sure that Novak wasn't stupid enough to try anything then stepped back, holding his blades aloft to accept the praises of the crowd. The voice of Cato Sicarius intruded, trying to make some speech, but his words were drowned out by the cheering crowd. None needed to be told that the Feast of Blades was over and Iventus the Ultramarine had won.

Left in his dust Novak sagged back and wallowed in defeat. His bones hurt, his side was bleeding and his breath heaved in his chest. It was an odd sensation, to experience defeat, and the acrid tang spiked his soul. For a Space Marine defeat was a bitter pill to swallow and yet Novak felt no shame or recrimination. He had satisfied honour by duelling yet been left exactly where he wanted to be, among his Brothers where he could go back to being a mere Company Champion. None would question that Novak had lost fairly and they would simply say he had been beaten by a better foe. For the first time in his life Novak didn't mind coming second, he no longer feared such a thing and would walk with his head held high. So under his helm, where none would see, he smiled to himself as the crowd cheered another in his place.