Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Escaflowne: All you need is Love, Isn't it?

Chapter 78

In the tournament hall, in the capital center of Basram


As his lieutenant and aid secured the minister's gloves and handed him his sword, he whispered. "Remember what the Prime Minister said, stay in the middle of the arena and avoid even a scratch from the General's sword."

The minister nodded, then said in all seriousness. "If… if I fail to win the day, extend my deepest regrets to King Van and tell him that I recommend Captain Leopold as my replacement. He is still young, but he will make a great officer and commander someday, of this I am certain; and there is no one more loyal to his Majesty than Leopold. Do you understand?"

Sadly, the lieutenant nodded.

"Good." The minister took several deep breaths. "Well, I suppose we'll find out now if the Prime Minister is a true ally or enemy." He drew his sword and handed the sheath back to his lieutenant, then turned and walked boldly toward the center of the arena.

Two days earlier


Hearing the wrap on the door, Minister Beckett looked up from sharpening his sword and responded, "Enter."

The door opened and swiftly closed behind the tall middle-aged gentleman.

"Prime Minister." Beckett set his sword down on the bed as he stood and bowed respectfully.

"I see you've wasted no time in preparing for your duel against General Dowfin. That's good. The General is not one to be taken lightly."

Beckett struggled to keep from laughing out loud, while the Prime Minister made no effort to conceal his amusement with the pun he made.

"Yes, I suppose it was a poor choice of words but nevertheless, the General is a very dangerous man and is not above cheating in order to get what he wants." The Prime Minister warned.

"I'll try to remember that, Sir." Beckett gestured toward the chairs by the fireplace.

"You don't seem surprised that I would be willing to share such information with a foreigner seeking to kill one of my generals." He stated as he made his way over to the fireplace.

Beckett smiled knowingly as he turned around and sheathed his sword, then walked over to the desk where his luggage was placed. Reaching inside one of the bags, he pulled out a metal flask and two small metal cups. "May I interest you in a drink, Prime Minister?" He asked as he opened the flask.

"By all means." The older man replied as he sat in front of the fireplace.

Beckett nodded and poured the drinks, then walked over to the leader of Basram, the flask tucked under his arm, and handed him the cup. Taking a seat in the other chair next to the fireplace, Beckett took a sip, as did the Prime Minister.

"Mmm, I was expecting this to be Fanelian Ale." Falco, the Prime Minister of Basram, said with a smile.

Beckett smiled back. "This is the drink of my homeland, Cesario, rice wine. The drink of gentlemen." He held up the flask. "Would you care for more?"

"Please." The Prime Minister held out his cup.

Beckett filled his cup, then sat back and said. "I suspect that today will be the last time I will drink this wine and call it my home drink."

The Prime Minister raised a questioning brow.

"When I left my country to serve King Van of Fanelia, I did it with the full expectation of breaking all ties to my homeland and becoming in all ways a Fanelian." He finished the wine in his cup and poured himself some more. "But this burning feeling within my heart demands that I avenge not only my homeland and the men who served under me, but my family as well."

"Your family?" The older gentleman frowned.

"I had two sons that served in the Cesarian Army with me. I was as proud of them as any father could be. They were still so very young, no older then Lord Van, but so eager to serve their king and impress their father. Both were killed during the final battle; one was killed by the Basram secret weapon, and the other by three Basram Guymelefs that attacked unexpectedly. He suffered two stab wounds to the back and a blow to the back of his head." The Fanelian Minister of Defense clutched his cup tightly as he fought with all his might to keep from shedding the tears that sought escape. "My wife blamed me for their deaths and left me after the war. I can't say I blame her. If I had not glorified my military service so much while they were growing up, they may not have chosen to enlist at thirteen and may still be alive." Looking up at the Prime Minister with eyes filled with rage and regret, he continued. "But what is so bitter to accept was not that they died in battle but that they died at the hands of our ally. For sometime, I hated all of Basram, including you, Prime Minister. But my position as Minister of Defense allowed me to learn the truth. That it was General Dowfin who commissioned the development and construction of that abominable weapon. It was General Dowfin who ordered its use in the middle of the battlefield and it was General Dowfin who ordered the attack upon the alliance forces." He poured himself one last drink. "I've also learned that the General is no friend to the Republic, and that the loyalty he possesses from his troops makes a military coup very real possibility."

The Prime Minister smiled. "So, King Van sent you here knowing that the outcome of your duel with General Dowfin could influence the future of Basram for years to come. A bit presumptuous of the young king, don't you think?"

"Lord Van is an honorable man. He knows the pain I bear and is ready to suffer the consequences of my actions. In this way we are kindred spirits, he and I. It is my hope that by killing General Dowfin, an opportunity for a true and lasting alliance between Basram and Fanelia may become possible." The minister concluded.

"And if the General kills you and lives? He already believes I orchestrated this duel. If he is victorious, then a military coup is all but assured. My sources tell me that the troops loyal to the General outnumber the troops loyal to the Republic, two to one. And if a coup does occur and the General establishes himself as Dictator of Basram, then all of Gaea will be thrown back into war, and his first target will undoubtedly be Fanelia. Are you truly willing to risk an entire country, our entire world, simply to satisfy your need for vengeance?" Falco asked pointedly.

"It is my belief that if I fall and the General manages to survive, all I would be doing is accelerating the inevitable. Am I wrong Prime Minister?" Beckett set his cup and flask down on the small round table between the two men.

Falco did the same as a very serious expression crossed his face. "Actually, you are more right than you know. My sources from within the military tell me that General Dowfin has been preparing for such an action for sometime now, and his reaction in my executive chambers was just an act. He knows who you are, and he knew you were coming before I did. He plans on using this duel as the catalyst to overthrow the Republic. Minister Beckett, you can't allow this to happen. You must kill Dowfin and kill him decisively. He must not be allowed to appear a noble martyr to his troops, or civil war will undoubtedly follow. He must be exposed as the coward and butcher he truly is. Can you do this, Minister Beckett?"

Beckett rose from his chair and got down on one knee, saying. "Prime Minister, I swear, as a former Cesarian officer, as the Minister of Defense of Fanelia, on my honor and upon my very life and soul; I will defeat General Dowfin and expose him to be the man, the coward he truly is."

"Thank you Lord Beckett, you are a true friend of Basram. Now sit, there is more I must tell you about the General. As I said before, he is not one to fight fairly, and you can assume that with so much at stake here he will use every dirty trick he can."

In the tournament hall, in the capital center of Basram


Minister Beckett stood in the center of the hall, surrounded by Basram soldiers. They stood in a circle around him with their swords drawn, each about six cubits away from him. Just outside the circle stood General Dowfin with several of his other generals and colonels. He waited impatiently, but was fully aware that the General was making him wait on purpose in an attempt to shake the Minister's composure and cause him to get sloppy in his attack. The former Cesarian Colonel took a series of deep breaths to steady his nerves and calm his anger. When he realized the General was in no rush to begin their duel, he began to perform some fundamental sword maneuvers to keep his body and mind occupied.

After nearly thirty minutes, the General turned to his attendant, who proceeded to apply a mail vest on him, then harnessed his sword belt and sheath upon him. This task completed, one of Dowfin's Captains stepped forward and held the General's sword in both hands with a cloth between the blade of the sword and his right hand. He held it out for his commanding officer to take, saying. "Be very careful with the blade, General. Even the smallest cut will result in death in only a mater of seconds."

Dowfin smiled wickedly. "It's a shame really. That Cesarian dog doesn't deserve a swift death." Taking hold of his sword, the General advanced toward the circle formed by his men.

Two of the soldiers stepped aside, allowing the General to enter the battle arena they had formed.

Seeing his opponent approach, the Minister stopped his exercises and immediately took a defensive posture, stepping back with his left foot and drawing his blade back as he angled his body to give his opponent as small a target as possible.

The General laughed. "Come now Minister Beckett, surely we can be civil before we commence our battle." He grinned as he extended his hand to his opponent.

Beckett instantly took a more guarded stance, replying, "I have no desire to be civil with a murderer."

General Dowfin snarled, bringing his hand down and clasping his sword firmly. "You'll regret ever crossing paths with me, Fanelia." He blustered, bringing his sword up in a defensive posture as well.

To this Becket replied. "Not today. Today I represent Cesario and the Cesarian Army. Today, I avenge my homeland, my comrades, and my family." With that said, the Minister charged, releasing his rage and hatred upon his opponent with a mighty cross stroke of his blade.

Dowfin raised his sword to block the attack but the force of the blow was so great that it knocked the portly General off balance. Pressing the attack Beckett charged with a thrust aimed for the General's heart. Dowfin managed to recover just in time to bring his sword up to block the thrust, but while he saved himself from being driven through the heart, Beckett's blade still grazed over his shoulder. Sparks shot out from Dowfin's shoulder as his opponent's blade ran over the metal rings of his vest.

The General seized the opportunity and swiped his sword downward at the Minister's midsection, but the attack was slow and predictable, and the Cesarian easily sidestepped the attack while drawing his blade back and launching another attack of his own.

Out of breath and sweating profusely, General Dowfin's hands trembled noticeably as he pointed his sword at his opponent. Striking the Cesarian, even for just a scratch, was proving far more difficult than he thought it would, and if it were not for his mail vest, he would have been mortally wounded several times already, instead of just having a few bruises and minor cuts.

Ones natural instinct when seeing your opponent weathered and beaten is often to lower ones guard a bit, and Minister Beckett was no exception as he slowly circled around the general, his sword held lower then he normally held it.

'One swift attack, I can lob off his head in one stroke.'He told himself as a victorious grin slowly crept across his face. But suddenly a memory returned to him.

Two Days Earlier


"So what sort of villainy might I expect from the General?" Beckett asked, leaning a little closer toward the Prime Minister.

Prime Minister Falco leaned forward as well, and speaking in a hushed voice, he said. "In two days, you will face off against the General in the tournament hall. An assembly of his loyalist soldiers will form a circle in the middle of the arena. Your battle will take place within that circle. The soldiers will have their swords drawn. The idea is to prevent either contestant from attempting to flee the battle. In reality, they are General Dowfin's assassins. If you get too close to any one of them, they will strike out at you without warning, even if it means stabbing you in the back."

"I see." Beckett's expression grew grim.

"In addition, the General has been known to coat the blade of his sword with poison. Not just any poison either, but with Warfarin. Death comes quite swiftly even if the wound is but a scratch. Avoid Dowfin's blade at all costs. It will mean the difference between life and death."


Reacting quickly, the Minister withdrew his attack, causing Dowfin to stumble forward awkwardly as he attempted to block an attack that never came. Beckett circled the general again, but his movements were purposeful and calculated this time. He knew what he wanted to do and how he planned to do it, but the former Cesarian Officer was not without a sense of mercy, even for a traitorous murderer like Dowfin. With this in mind, he spoke. "General Dowfin, I will be merciful and allow you to live if you confess your crimes against the people of Gaea and resign your commission effective immediately."

The general glared daggers at the taller man. "How dare you lay terms such as these before me? The battle is not over yet Cesarian, and I am not defeated." In a rage, the general charged, but Beckett held his ground, countering each of Dowfin's strokes. After crossing swords a dozen times, Beckett pressed in on his opponent as they stood toe to toe. Then leveraging his weight and strength, the Cesarian forced the general's sword around in a circular fashion two times.

General Dowfin let out a painful scream the second time their swords looped around. Stepping back quickly, he looked down at his boot and saw a gash across the top of it. He looked up at the end of his sword and saw blood trickling down from it. "Oh my god." He gasped.

"What's the matter, General?" Beckett threw him an inquisitive stare. "Surely that wound could not be fatal?"

"Antidote." The portly man whispered, followed by the yell. "I need the antidote!"

"Antidote for what, General?" The Cesarian asked as he circled around him, his sword still held up in a defensive posture.

"Nothing, for nothing." Dowfin yelled at his opponent as he swiped his sword at him, not even coming close to making any sort of contact.

"Could it be for the poison you coated your blade with, General?" Beckett asked knowingly.

"I don't know what you mean." The dying man replied. "Antidote!"

"There is no time for an antidote General. Warfarin works too fast. No antidote exists that can counteract it once it is in the victim's system. The only hope you have now is to admit to your crimes, so at least you can die with a clear conscience." Beckett offered.

"No." Dowfin growled. "It can't end this way. I was going to rule all of Basram, all of Gaea. It was my privilege, my right. I deserve to rule, me!" The general began to cough. "I deserve to rule. Me!" Giant beads of sweat began rolling down his face as his eyes turned blood red. "Not the coward Falco, not that blond bitch from Asturia, and especially not that brat from Fanelia." He doubled over, coughing violently.

Beckett laughed bitterly then said, "And here I thought you were just evil. I had no idea you were mad."

"Why you!" General Dowfin raised his sword high and charged clumsily one last time.

The Cesarian did not hesitate a moment as he plunged his sword into the general's chest. Blood sprayed out of Dowfin as he let out a final cry, his sword falling from his hands and hitting the ground behind him. A second later, his knees gave way and he collapsed backward.

The Basram soldiers sheathed their swords and carried the body of their fallen military leader from the tournament hall.

The Minister's lieutenant approached him quickly. "Minister Beckett, are you all right? He did not mark you, did he?"

"You needn't be concerned, I am fine." The minister reassured him. Pulling out his handkerchief, he carefully wiped the blood off the sword, then wrapped it around the middle of the blade. "Do not sheath it at this time."

"Oh?" The young lieutenant failed to understand the Minister's reasoning.

"I crossed swords with Dowfin many times. It is possible that some of the poison that coated his sword may now be on mine. Take it to the smiths and cleanse it in flame." Beckett instructed him.

"Yes sir, I shall." The lieutenant took the sword his commander extended toward him very carefully. Then he turned and exited the hall.

"Minister Beckett." A bureaucratic voice said behind him.

Turning around he saw the Prime Minister's aid and four of the Prime Minister's personal guard standing behind him. "Yes?" He asked.

"The Prime Minister recommends that you retire to his estate and he has sent his personal guards to ensure your safety." The aid stated.

Beckett bowed politely. "Please thank the Prime Minister for me." Then he followed the guards out of the building.


AN: Wow! That took a lot out of me. Sorry there is no Van or Hitomi in this one but this particular story line was so serious that I felt it deserved a chapter of its own. And sorry but the next chapter won't have them Hitomi again. Still have one more duel to write about. ^_^

I hope you all got the jock about the General. In case you didn't, it was in reference to his size. But I'm sure each of you did. ^_^

Again, I'd like to offer a very special thanks to my new beta-reader, Janice. You're the best Janice. I feel so lucky having a beta-reader as good as you to read over my stories. Thank you so very much. ^_^

And thank you all for reading and reviewing my story. Getting notifications throughout the day that I've gotten another review and reading your reviews just makes my day. Thank you all so very much.

A. Amishi