Nada's Escape

79- Artistic.

As I step onto the portico a woman sweeps open the staggering purple skirt of her ball gown, revealing black capris underneath. She drapes the skirt over the shoulder of a waiting boy and proceeds to strip her most dangly jewellery. Finley nods in greeting to the woman.

"Looks like Beatrice is about to perform," he whispers to me. Beatrice's lips curve up as she catches Finley's look. It's a thin curve of confidence. I narrow my eyes, the intangible threat of a worm's smile setting my heart pounding in wariness.

"Come on," I release Finley's hand and duck around a wall of onlookers bordering the portico. Past them a ring is illuminated on the ground with feyfly lanterns. Two jacketless Huntsmen clash swords and the crowd roars. One of them staggers away from the interaction, blood staining his sleeve. He flicks the blood at the most raucous onlookers, laughing.

"First blood!" cries Percival's weedy voice over the din. "Next up."

Another jacketless Huntsmen approaches the circle. The lanterns light up his deep purple pants better than his face, which remains dark. On the other side the woman from before, Beatrice, stalks up to the edge as well, a white mask covering all but her lips. A choker of diamonds, catches the light from her neck.

The previous performers exit the circle, passing over their blades like batons. The purple couple hold the blades easily, like they weigh nothing.

With mirror synchronicity the couple steps into the ring of lights. They begin to circle, each careful step augmenting the tension. Maybe it's my fighter instincts, but I'm drawn into that tension, catching my breath in anticipation of the conflict. Their feet wind closer on the dirt, blades nearing with a glimmer of light. I can taste the impending duel, the sing of blades to come.

The tips of their blades dip, almost meeting. In a blink they're whirling and the fight has begun. It's a storm of swinging legs and flashing blades, almost faster than the eye can see. Beatrice's dark hair spins out of its pins, a fantastic arc from a limbo-esque duck.

This stretches on for over a minute in a dazzling display finesse and fitness. Trying to understand their manoeuvres I realise it's too perfect to be real. It's a rehearsed dance, like Darcell's warm-ups but faster and far more dangerous.

Swords crossed the two lean close enough to kiss, and for an intense moment those rapiers, which had drawn blood on the previous performer, graze both their cheeks. Then they whirl outwards with those blades, connected by their hands. They reel back towards each other like dancers and for a breathtaking moment their blades are in the air. Then they switch sides and blades to attack outwards in the other direction. They're fighting together now, against something else. Teamwork.

I can almost see them, the horde of creatures dangerous enough to force two enemies to fight together against them. But the two of them are better than the invisible enemies as they slash closer and closer to the audience. Frenzy. Back to back they make an enormous slash together. Killing stroke.

They take a shared breath, the first pause since they first crossed blades. Beatrice claps a hand on his shoulder in a show of friendship. Success. Then his blade swishes up to kiss her throat, threatening. She holds up her empty hands, letting her blade fall straight down to stick in the dirt. Surrender.

She sashays closer toward him along the blade. Seduction. A caress becomes a vicious twist and the second blade clatters to the ground. Payback. His arm keeps twisting towards a break and so he ducks, throwing Beatrice over his shoulder. She takes it in stride, rolling across his back, legs flying. He spins after her, catching her arm in a fist.

She's got the other hand back on the hilt of her blade though. She's ramming the sword backwards into his chest when he realises and hits the dirt. She makes him eat it too, leaping onto his back and easing the rapier along his neck. Not killing him, but artistically showing that she can.

Heavy, awed silence hangs on the audience for a moment. Then the roar of the applause is possibly the loudest thing I've ever heard, maybe because I'm contributing. That was more than a duel. That was a performance.