Child of Freedom
Chapter 9- A Duel
A/N: Just a reminder that Erik looks like Gerard Butler.
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I noticed his presence almost immediately, and broke the kiss.
"Pierre!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" I nervously tucked my shoulder-length blond hair behind my ears.
Pierre stared at us dumbly. Then he pointed to me. "You!" he exclaimed stupidly. Then he pointed to Erik. "And you!" He exclaimed again. "You were..." his sentence trailed away and he stared at us for several long moments before realizing that we were waiting for him to say something intelligent.
Pierre pointed to Erik. "I challenge you to a duel," he said angrily. "The winner gets Rebecca." He sounded very angry.
"Excuse me?" I asked, standing up and putting my hands on my hips. "You can't just use me as a betting tool. I am NOT an object that you can just hand over to someone. I make my own decisions." I regarded him sternly.
Erik stood up as well. "Counter offer," he said. "We duel. If I win, you have to stop antagonizing me, and stop acting as though Rebecca belongs to you, or something."
Here I interrupted him. "He has to stop treating me like that anyway," I said.
"If you win," Erik continued. "Then I will leave you alone and won't pummel you. Have you forgotten about my lasso?" Erik took a menacing step toward Pierre, who, surprisingly, stood his ground.
"You can't intimidate me any longer." Pierre said, crossing his arms. "I know all about your pathetic, wimpiness regarding your face." He smiled smugly. Erik took another step towards him.
Now I was angry. I came up to Pierre and slapped him hard. "How dare you even consider for one second that you can insult Erik and get away with it!" I fumed. "I have a mind to put you in the torture chamber!"
"The what?" Pierre asked, suddenly nervous.
"Rebecca," Erik said softly, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"Alright," I said, understanding his meaning. He didn't want other people to know about the torture chamber.
"We duel." Pierre stated, rubbing his cheek. "If you win, I have to leave Rebecca alone. If I win, you have to leave Rebecca alone." He folded his arms across his chest.
"Listen here," I said. "It's not up to you to decide who does or doesn't leave me alone. I want you to leave me alone, and I want Erik to not leave me alone." I folded my arms across my chest. "I thought we were friends." I said. "It seems I was wrong. I wish I had never brought you here." I turned my back on Pierre and sat on the swan bed.
"Fine." Erik said to Pierre. "We duel."
Pierre nodded. "But let's make it a little more interesting." He smiled slyly. "Let's make it to the death."
I gasped and looked up to see Erik's reaction. Erik nodded slowly. "Alright." He said, and he led the way outside. I followed Pierre and Erik and saw Erik lift two swords from a case that rested on the mantle of the fireplace in the parlor.
"Erik," I said, catching up to walk beside him. It was difficult to match his purposeful stride. "You aren't seriously going to duel to the death, are you?" I asked, worry creasing my brow.
He stopped for a moment and looked at me tenderly. "You don't need to worry," He said. He bent down near my ear. "I won't kill him." Then he kept on going.
"Erik!" I called, and rushed to keep up. I was barefoot, and my dress was so long that I needed to pick it up just to walk. The skirt tore on the door to the tunnels.
Beside the lake was the beach where Erik and I had first met, and it was there that Erik stopped and handed Pierre his sword.
"We stand back-to-back and then walk three paces. Then we turn around." He said. Pierre nodded, and they turned their backs to each other.
"One, two, three." Erik counted as they both took their steps, and then they turned around.
Pierre was no longer wearing his apron, so he didn't look as comical as he would have had he been wearing it. Erik was wearing his black pants and his white shirt that was slightly open to reveal some of his chest. He was, of course, wearing his white mask, and his black hair was slicked back.
The two men circled each other for a time. I stood a ways away so I didn't get in the way of the their swords
"You may appear young," Pierre said. "But I know you're not, old man." He smiled and lashed out with his sword. Erik blocked the attack easily and made a jab at Pierre, who parried the blow.
"You think I haven't heard the stories?" Pierre growled as he and Erik's swords tangled, and their faces were less than a hand's breadth away. "Everyone talks about the Phantom of the Opera, and how he kidnapped a young soprano." Pierre said as he and Erik's swords broke apart and they circled each other again. Both men were already sweating bullets.
Erik attack Pierre, but the cook blocked the blow with his sword. "They say," He taunted. "That The Phantom of the opera stole millions of francs from the Opera House owners. I know it was you."
Like a snake darting towards its prey, Pierre's sword lashed out. Erik tried to block it, but his reflexes were a little slow; Pierre's words had hit home. Pierre's sword sank in to Erik's shoulder. Erik gasped in pain, but held his own.
Tears began to roll down my cheeks. I wanted so much to go and stop the fight, but I felt sure that Erik would be too distracted by my presence, and that would endanger him more than the injury.
Erik didn't let go of his sword, and he held it high in a defense position. His left arm was now useless.
"You're weak, old man," Pierre taunted. Erik didn't reply, and even as I worried for his life, I was proud that he was strong enough not to respond. I didn't want to think that his silence might just mean that he didn't have the energy.
Pierre attacked in a flurry of moves that left me wondering where he was going to end up. Erik blocked the first three moves, and then parried the next one.
I was so scared. I took a step back, mindful that the waves of the lake were lapping up against my bare toes.
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Sweat rolled down Erik's face. His left shoulder throbbed in pain as his opponent practically danced around him with glee. Erik was surprised at how well trained the cook was in fencing. He had thought it was going to be easy. Obviously, he had underestimated Pierre's ability.
But Erik knew that he had reserves of strength that he had not yet tapped.
Erik tapped into those reserves, and, with a sudden burst of energy, he blocked Pierre's next blow, and returned it with a volley of attacks.
Pierre had trouble keeping up and staggered backwards. "Who's weak now?" Erik couldn't help but taunt. Pierre's face contorted with rage, and he attacked Erik viciously with a series of blows that left Erik breathing hard and trying to gather his bearings and still fight.
All of a sudden, Erik heard a scream. He turned his head in time to see Rebecca fall into the waves, before searing pain appeared in his torso. He turned back and saw Pierre's triumphant smile, and the man's sword was stuck in Erik's stomach. Erik stared at the metal beast dumbly before Pierre viciously yanked it out.
Erik felt tingly all over, and his vision was getting dark. He slumped down onto the sandy beach with blood oozing from the gaping wound in his stomach. His last thought before passing out was: What about Rebecca?
-
I was soaked from head to toe, but I was alive. I had slipped on the slippery sand and fallen in the water, but I had used the swimming techniques that Erik had taught me to get to the surface.
As soon as I reached the beach, I saw Pierre wiping his sword off on Erik's chest, and there was a gaping wound in his stomach.
"ERIK!" I screamed and ran over to him. I pressed my hands to the wound, trying to stop the bleeding. My hands were soon coated in his blood.
Pierre grabbed my arm and tried to pull me away, but I slapped him hard and kicked him in the nuts. I punched and kicked Pierre several times before leaving him alone so I could see to Erik.
"Erik," I whispered. "Erik, can you hear me?" I tore a strip of my dress and used it as a tourniquet on Erik's shoulder wound. It wouldn't do much, but it might help.
"Erik, please," I begged. Warm tears trickled down my cheeks, and I wiped my eyes angrily. "Erik, you can't leave me. Please," I looked up and briefly noticed that Pierre was gone. I didn't care.
From inside the house, I heard Lynaea cry. It seemed that she, too, was mourning Erik.
A/N: Don't worry! Erik isn't dead. Review, please.
