The Count's Daughter
By: Stubby the Newsgirl
Chapter 4: The Duel
"What is the meaning of this?" asked the Spaniard, looking up from having fallen. He clenched his stomach and grimaced. Amalia saw his shirt was bloodstained and concluded that her father had given him the injuries. That was good; it would work to her advantage, at least. But she couldn't just go up to him and stab him could she? No, that would be dishonorable and treacherous. She was now having second thoughts about this whole situation. Just seeing his shirt covered in blood made her squeamish, let alone, taking the life of a living being.
Courage, Amalia, courage! She told herself, taking a deep breath. Then she strode over to the Spaniard, still lying on the ground. She didn't have a glove, or gauntlet for that matter, so she would have to use her bare hand. She kneeled down to him, his dark eyes piqued with curiosity. Then, using her right hand, she slapped him smartly, forehand against his right cheek, backhand against his left cheek.
"I challenge you…" Amalia said as bravely as she could, "…to the death!"
"You challenge me?" the Spaniard scoffed, half amused.
"Get up and draw your sword!" Amalia ordered. Though her words sounded bold, her innards were twisting every which way. Now she noticed the audience of the Giant, the man in black, and the Princess, which didn't help her overcome her fear.
"I do not accept this challenge," the Spaniard said clutching his stomach and getting up. He was much bigger than Amalia, and could easily kill her. Still, Amalia had to persevere.
"You are a coward, then!" Amalia shouted.
"It would be cowardice to kill a child," the Spaniard said rolling his eyes.
"If anyone is to be killed, it will be you. Now draw your sword!" Amalia said. Her words were much louder than her action.
"I will not," he refused, raising up his blood-smeared hands and trying to get past her. Amalia's stomach churned at the sight of the blood. She was very tempted to agree with him, but she knew that she couldn't. This was a murderer! She blocked him.
"They say you are a great swordsman, yet I see no mark of greatness that they speak of!" she said tauntingly.
"I have no time for your foolishness, child. Let me pass before I get angry," the Spaniard said still trying to get past. Amalia wondered if she shouldn't just let him cross.
No! I have to fight him! She blocked him again.
"Please, we're in quite a hurry to meet our ship," the man I black interjected.
"You are free to leave," Amalia said to him. "You, however, will be meeting nothing but your death," she said to the Spaniard. Where are these words coming from? She wondered.
"Fezzik, pick him up and throw him in the water to cool his temper," the Spaniard said to the Giant.
"Touch me and die, knave!" Amalia said fiercely to the Giant. She was certainly making a spectacle of herself.
"Inigo, I don't think he will let me touch him," said the Giant.
"Rip his arms off. Then he won't be able to," the Spaniard said casually.
Amalia narrowed her eyes. "You may very well try, but you will not succeed!" she said pointing her sword at the Giant while still keeping an eye on the Spaniard.
"But Inigo, he's so little… he can't do much harm. Besides, I like his braveness. He is very brave, don't you think? We could use him as a cabin boy! Let's take him with us; he can be our little mascot!" Fezzik cooed.
Everyone, Amalia included, stopped and stared at the Giant. Crickets chirruped.
"Well, I still think it's a good idea…" Fezzik shrugged. Inigo and Westley rolled their eyes. Buttercup, as always, just stood there passively.
"I will go nowhere… not until he is dead!" Amalia said pointing her sword back at Inigo and reiterating the subject. Her words, however, seemed to be tripe to her. She didn't want to kill, but she just had to.
"Prince Humperdink is probably gaining on us by now!" Buttercup said worriedly clutching to Westley.
Inigo sighed. "I do not think it's good that we split up, but we must. I will deal with this and meet you on the ship," he said as the three departed.
"Now, draw your sword," Amalia said for the third time. The Spaniard just stood there. She decided to act now. She had warned him several times. She plunged her sword into his chest… or at least she tried to, but he quickly drew and blocked it.
Amalia tried again, but again, Inigo blocked it. "Why 'you want me dead?" he asked blocking another hit.
"Because you killed my father, half-wit!" Amalia said swinging with force. What happens if I actually kill him? Well… he'll be dead, of course, but then what? Will I be a murderer also? I don't want to be a murderer, but I can't live knowing that my father's slayer is free.
Inigo winced. Here, he had just come back from a twenty-year search for his father's killer and he was now a killer of someone else's father. "I am terribly sorry for it…" he said guiltily. "Who was your father?" he asked curiously as he blocked another blow.
Sorry? Perhaps I am wrong to judge him so quickly. "My father was Count Tyrone Rugen," she said, her blows growing less severe.
Rugen? Count Rugen had a son? Inigo looked at the boy's hand. Hmm… five fingers. Those hands are very small, how old is the boy? Inigo thought.
"You only have five fingers," Inigo commented.
"So you did know my father," Amalia said curiously.
"Yes… and I take it back. I am not sorry for killing him," Inigo said.
"You fiend!" cried Amalia, as her eyes grew wide with outrage. What a horrible thing to say! She began to lunge her sword every which way in an attempt to kill him.
"You don't understand-" Inigo tried to explain as the boy began to combat violently. "Your father… he was an evil man," he said countering the hits.
Amalia paused. "How would you know anything about my father? I have never seen you before in my entire life!" she growled, fighting even more ferociously.
"it's true; we have never met, until now. But I know one thing about your father… and that is that he killed my father!" Inigo defended himself against the young page's angst-driven thrusts.
Amalia paused again. Father had killed a man? Yes, father could be cold at times, but he wouldn't kill a man without reason. There had to be a reason for it. Yes, I am sure there's a reason for it! The Spaniard is only trying to make me pity him. Well, it won't work. "Have you any children?" she asked deceitfully withdrawing her sword.
"None… none, yet," Inigo said seeing that the boy had calmed down. He too withdrew his sword.
"Good. Then there will be no one to mourn you when you die!" Amalia said thrusting her sword at Inigo's chest in a sudden surprise attack.
Yes, this is Rugen's son, all right. A deceiver and trickster! But he will not be quick as I! Inigo thought. His reflexes were quicker than what Amalia had assumed them to be. But now, Inigo was angry. He had given the boy more than enough chances to bow out of the fight, but the boy was persistent. Too persistent, and Inigo was already much delayed from his friends. He would teach the boy a lesson, as Rugen had taught him.
"I wouldn't have done that if I were you," Inigo said fiercely, now beginning to fight.
Amalia stepped back. It had been she who had been delivering all the blows, now the Spaniard was fighting. "You do not frighten me!" Amalia lied opposing his blows. He was good. Very good. Now Amalia began questioning her motives. What have I gotten myself into? I've bitten off more than I can chew? Who am I fighting for again? My father? A man who hardly knew his own daughter? A man who wouldn't let me sit with him at the head of the table? This isn't even my position to take! Why am I risking my life? Couldn't I stop the duel and apologize? No, too late now! The Spaniard is determined. Men are so difficult! Why can't they be more like women? Women are sensible. When women fight, all that's passed are foul words. And foul words can be apologized for easily. But no, men cannot do that. Men must kill each other when they argue! Why must they be so insensible? Amalia wondered as her strength began to diminish.
"You are not bad for a boy your age," Inigo commented. He regretted having to kill the boy.
He just called me a boy! What an insult! "I AM NOT A BOY!" Amalia exclaimed, forgetting her disguise. She quickly remembered, and held her hand to her mouth- as all ladies do- and gasped, dropping her sword from her hand.
"I suppose you think yourself a man," Inigo said as his sword came swiftly down upon the youth's arm. This stunned him for a moment, for the boy had been fighting fairly well… until now. "A man who made the fatal mistake of dropping his sword," Inigo mused, picking up the youth's sword.
Luckily, Amalia had drawn her arm back in time to keep it from being dismembered. Unfortunately, the Spaniard had her sword, and he was much bigger than she. Pain seared through her arm. Pain seared through her entire being. What am I to do? I don't want to die!
"I believe you have won," Amalia said clutching her arm and bowing her head. She closed her eyes, trying to hold back her tears of pain and fear.
Inigo studied the boy. He is crying… because he failed his father. I know that feeling all to well. Inigo couldn't bring himself to kill the boy. Observing the boy, it seemed that he was looking at his own reflection. "Open your eyes, my child" he said.
"I am not a child, and certainly not yours," Amalia said wiping her eyes and looking up to see the man staring at her. "But I will do as you say if it's a means to save myself," she added quietly.
Inigo admired the boy's boldness, but it also angered him. Inigo found it ironic that he was now in Rugen's place. Will I end up like Count Rugen? Will the boy pursue me as I pursed his father?
Amalia examined his furrowed brows. He seemed to be in deep provoking thought. He wasn't looking at her anymore, but she felt unsettled. She noticed his wounds; his stomach and arms had been stabbed. She felt the pain in her own arm. Her gaze went back to his face. He had two scars on either side of his cheeks, then her gaze went to his dark unblinking eyes. He was still thinking. "What's he thinking, I wonder!" she said aloud. She gasped and covered her mouth. Think before you speak, you fool! She insulted herself.
The question brought Inigo back to reality. He looked at the boy and smiled. "Did you love your father?" he asked putting his sword back into its scabbard. He still held Amalia's.
Where did that come from? What kind of question is that? Should I answer him truthfully? Amalia wondered. "Yes," she said simply. He looked at her long and hard, or so she felt as he did. His eyes were unflinching; they seemed to pierce her, she couldn't lie. She looked away. "No…" she said. What do I feel for my father? Not love, not hate, I respect him, but I don't find him admirable… "I- I don't know!" she said frustrated with his question.
"I knew it was impossible for anyone to love Count Rugen," Inigo chuckled at the boy's indecision.
He's mocking me as well as insulting father! "How dare you say that! How dare you insult my father!" Amalia exclaimed wanting to give him a piece of her mind.
Inigo would have replied, but then he heard rumbling in the distance. "You hear that noise?" he asked listening carefully.
Amalia's anger dissipated as she listened. "It's hoof-beats," she said.
"Something's coming…" Inigo said trying to figure out what it was.
"Hoof-beats…" Amalia echoed. "The Prince! It's the Prince!" Amalia exclaimed excitedly, running towards the sound.
Inigo was alarmed. If Humperdink found him, he would be killed. He had to stop the boy!