Tempered Steel

And so it begins…

The sword came crashing down, driving Ludwig’s weapon to within a finger"s length of his face as he desperately tried to parry. Angling his blade, he pushed back with all the strength he could muster, forcing his opponent"s weapon to slide to the side as he stepped forward, sword tip at the ready.

“You’ll have to do better than that, Kurt,” said Ludwig. “After all, you taught me everything I know about sword fighting.”

“Agreed,” the older, dark-haired man replied. “And yet I didn’t teach you everything I know.” Kurt stomped forward, tapping the lord on the side of his knee. “I believe that’s my point.”

Ludwig lowered his weapon, using his left forearm to wipe the sweat from his brow. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Fair? You’re learning how to fight, not dance. There’s no such thing as fairness in battle, my friend.”

“What of honour?” asked Ludwig.

“Don’t talk to me of honour,” said Kurt. “On the battlefield, it’s kill or be killed. There is little place for such things as honour.”

“I don’t believe you. Surely, men of character are governed by the rules of war?”

“You are still relatively young,” said Kurt, “and uninitiated in the ways of battle, so I will forgive you your naivety.”

“I am twenty-five,” countered Ludwig, “and more than capable of holding my own in a battle.”

“If only that were true, but there"s a world of difference between a friendly duel and the horrors of a battlefield. Enjoy your time at court, and leave the real fighting to men like me.”