197S9.9.18
We have managed to make it to our checkpoint, but trouble has followed us to the very end.
We hardly made it to the mouth of the cave before another squad--Team Three, I believe Paine said--began to fire on us and, as we were ordered, we fought to protect our resources. The fight did not last long, but the repercussions were large: one member of Team Three was killed.
It is impossible to say, even now, who shot him, but it does not matter; the leader of the fallen man's squad named me as the murderer and he immediately challenged me to a duel. I consented and we likely would have fought right there if Nooj had not intervened. It seems that not even the leader of another squad is willing to argue with Nooj for the man backed down immediately and it was agreed that the duel would be put off until both sides have had time to rest and to regroup. Since then, I have heard only reasons why I should not have consented to the duel: I am weak from the injury to my hip, I was picked only because I am the least able to fight of our squad...these are all excuses which have been offered me, but I was aware of them, even before.
They do not matter to me. What matters to me is that the slain man's body is laid to rest and that my squad's honor is intact, no matter what the cost may be. If I turned from the duel and called the other squad's leader a liar, how would that reflect upon the man who worked so hard to shape me into some semblance of a warrior? If I claimed weakness from my injury and asked Paine or Gippal or Nooj to stand in my place, how could I ever face any of them again?
I cannot do that. I cannot ask that of them. I must stand on my own feet for this. Even if I am hobbled by my wound, I am still able to fight and I will fight to make my squad proud.
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It has been decided.
The modified pistols are to be used in the duel. It will be fixed so that Team Three's leader will take the Judas pistol and I will shoot a bit wide so that there is only one wound in the body. This is how the rest of my squad wants the duel to go and I have no place to argue.
I...must handle them. I must use the treachery of Yevon to save my own life.
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It's over.
It happened without a single hitch.
Nooj held the box with the pistols and Paine even recorded the event. No one raised any questions and the duel was over rather quickly. We both took our ten paces and, when we faced each other, he shot himself through the forehead. I shot wide and Gippal had the guns back in the box before the body even hit the sands.
It's...over. It's really really over. There's nothing more to be said for it...to be said for anything. We are the victors in this particular round of the trials. We only did as the Maesters ordered, defending our resources. The others are taking advantage of these now, bathing and splashing. I can hear them from here, but I do not wish to join them. I do not think I could enjoy it, right now. My body is starved for good, cool water but it would only taste bitter.
Perhaps I will wait to drink for a little longer.
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I am worried.
Gippal and Paine seem to both be quite willing to put the duel behind themselves as simply another part of this seemingly endless trial, but Nooj has had a strange look about him ever since the duel. I cannot guess what exactly is bothering him, but it worries me that it may be more stress on top of what is already there. He was the one to give the final word to use the rigged pistols...is he regretting it, now? Is he thinking that I should have fought fairly rather than to use those horribly mangled guns? Is he thinking that it would have been better to have my body lying under the sands rather than to have to resort to such means?
...I could not blame him if it were so. I could not blame any of them for believing my death preferable, just as I could not blame them for holding this irrevocable stain against me. I have sunk so low...
I am as the Maesters, now.
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Gippal has surprised me.
I did not think he would wish to be near me after the events of the day, yet he willingly came to me as I sat in the mouth of the cave. Neither of us said anything to the other, but I don't think we needed to; it was all written so clearly in the events of the day as well as in their aftermath that speaking of them would be redundant. We lay together and, afterward, he held me so tightly, almost as if he were afraid that I would slip from his arms. His arms around me felt so wonderful, though, and the words he spoke to me...I am still not sure what to make of them.
He said that he was glad that I was still there for him to hold and that he was thankful for me. He said it so quietly that I think he was on the border of sleep...but if these words are heartfelt...I do not know. I do not think I should invest much in them. I am just a battle boy, am I not? It cannot be more. I do wonder, though. I wonder if he knows what those words meant, how they have helped to salve the wound of having to handle those mangled guns. I wonder if I should tell him of that. I wonder if I should thank him for opening my eyes to so many things, the true worth of the Al Bhed chief among them. He has had such a large part in helping me to grow from the scared and childish priestling I was...I owe him so greatly.
197S9.9.19
The Maesters sent word late last night that they wish to interview us privately.
It is no great surprise. It is only common sense that they would hear of the duel and if the pistols were described in any detail at all..well...it would not take much imagination to figure out just what we had. Thankfully, Gippal has them well hidden and we each have our story to tell. If we all stick well to our script, then we should be able to easily get through this without suspicion. I have full faith that Gippal will expertly spin one of his tales, that Paine will only give her usual brief answers, and that Nooj will leave no room for questions; I only hope that I will be able to put forth the whimpering, weak, confused face needed for this particular scene.
...I only wonder if the Maester who spotted me on the evening before I took the pistols will be there. It may be a bit more difficult to explain, if I have one such witness, but, then again, I was doing nothing suspicious when he spotted me; it is not as if he saw me carry the pistols back to the camp.
I am only worrying myself without need. It will be alright. If I am capable of tricking a man into an unfair duel, then what is lying to the Maesters? It is all on a decline, now, and I can only tumble where I am lead. Perhaps I am becoming the chyga which Gippal always saw in me.
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That seems to have gone rather well.
We all traveled to the Maester's tent and, as would be expected, they called us in one at a time so that they could interview us individually. They called for me first and, on Gippal's advice, I hobbled in as if I could just barely manage to walk at all. I'm not entirely sure that this garnered their sympathy, but it surely gave the needed tint of helplessness to my story. With much ado, I finally settled to my chair and, after exchanging pleasantries, they asked me the expected questions about the duel and the pistols which were used. I spoke haltingly when I told them of the brief battle by the cave and, when it came to the duel, itself, I explained that I was in full hysterics at the time and that I could recall nothing of any of it; I think my story was rather helped when I took to shivering and shaking while I told them this and my look of wide-eyed shock drew a knowing smirk from one of the older Maesters...Kinoc, I think his name is. I suppose this is just exactly what they expected of me.
It was a bit odd, though. As I was leaving the tent so that Paine could have her turn, one of the Maesters called me aside. This Maester was a bit younger than the others and, by the look of him, he seemed to have at least a touch of Guado to his blood; my best guess would be that he was that new Maester, Seymour, but this is only going by what I have heard of the man and his somewhat scandalous ideas for Yevon. Regardless, he was rather sympathetic to me and, as he ushered me to the flap of the tent, he let his hand linger on my shoulder. Leaning close, he made an odd offer to help me escape these further trials but only if I were to help him. I did not have time to question what he meant by this as he returned quickly to his position, but I do not think I will speak of it to the others; we have enough troubles on our hands without the added complications of one of the Maesters making such offers. Besides, it is quite likely that I misread him and that he only wishes to help convince the other Maesters that we did nothing wrong.
That is likely it. What else could it be? Just because I was once a summoner in Yevon does not mean the Maesters would automatically be willing to forge deals with me. Even if they were, I would never accept such underhanded offers; I would far rather be with my squad than to sit in comfort while the rest of Spira suffers.
One good thing did come of these interviews, though: Paine managed to smuggle a few bottles of the Maester's best brandy as she left the tent and, allowing me to hide them under my robes, we were able to take them from right under the Maester's noses. I doubt they will even notice that the bottles are gone and, even if they do, who could say any wrongdoing occurred? It is their fault for not being more careful.
This is a war zone, after all.
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The others have fully partaken of the brandy and both Gippal and Paine seem to be quite enjoying themselves. It's very good to see them in such high spirits, even if they may somewhat regret their indulgances in the morning. I have taken none of it. I...do not feel right drinking, right now. I have too much to do and too much to think about. It simply would not be the proper thing for me to do, after all which has happened. Besides, this is finally a chance to refine those herbs and minerals which I've been gathering for days. I think I may first work on a seasickness remedy for Nooj, as it seems we will soon be aboard a boat, again.