Won't Back Down: Won't Back Down

by Unknown

  Helmer backhanded Cal without so much as blinking. A reciprocal slap, barehanded, was not the proper response to the issued challenge, and Cal glared murder up at him. Helmer, however, simply flashed a wicked grin. "Good. One and one half hour after midday meals. Meet by the stables. I'll make you regret agreeing." Without another word, Helmer sauntered away and Cal stared after him.

  What had just happened? Why had Cal accepted? He knew damn well Helmer was plotting something. Cal was sure he'd just played right into his hands. Helmer knew Cal wouldn't back down for a proper duel. Watching the empty hallway, Cal wondered what exactly this duel had to do with the plans Helmer and Dardanos had. Suddenly anxious to talk to Nahiya, Cal turned on his heel and hurried through the halls.

  He found Nahiya leaving Lady Elleni's quarters, tugging the door behind her firmly as she glanced down the hallway. The second she spotted Cal, her face colored, darkening in a way that Cal knew was a blush under her brown skin. "Cal, what are you doing here?" She was flustered, her hands moving to smooth her dress and hair. "What happened to your face? Helmer again?"

  "It's always Helmer," Cal replied. "And I was coming to see you, what did you think?" He cocked his head at her, bemused by her reaction.

  Nahiya cleared her throat. "Oh. Well. Yes, of course. Was there a particular reason?"

  "Perhaps what I came for can wait. Is something… amiss?" He glanced at Lady Elleni's door and back at Nahiya, clearly waiting for an explanation.

  Nahiya flushed a deeper color and shook her head. "No, of course not. Why would you ask?"

  "Because you're redder than a ripe tomato, and I've no idea why."

  "No reason," Nahiya exclaimed, her eyes not quite meeting Cal's. Her fingers twisted together, and she seemed to find his ear utterly fascinating.

  "Nahiya."

  "It's nothing! Lady Elleni was ... telling a bawdy story is all."

  Cal didn't think she was being completely truthful, but as much as he had his own boundaries, he was bound to respect hers. "I'd love to hear a story that a lady such as Lady Elleni could tell to you to make you blush like a virgin on her wedding night," he teased.

  Nahiya glanced up at him, her eyes flashing. "Hush! I shouldn't even have told you that. It could damage her reputation."

  Cal rested a hand on Nahiya's arm. "Come, Nahiya, you know I wouldn't breathe a word of it. I'm just glad to learn Lady Elleni is not so stuck up as some of her Majesty's ladies-in-waiting."

  For a moment, Nahiya almost looked angry; the same sort of expression Cal would get on his own face if he thought someone had just insulted Taren. But then she realized he was teasing her, so she punched him hard on the arm and smiled. "What was it you wanted to see me about?"

  "Advice," Cal admitted as he rubbed his arm. "We need someplace to speak alone."

  Curious, Nahiya nodded and led him down a series of passages to a corner where they were unlikely to be overheard. It wasn't the same as the one he'd heard Helmer and Dardanos speaking in, but they looked similar enough. There were the same nooks and shadows, rough-hewn stone work, and lack of decorations. Cal checked every nook he could find that was big enough to hide a person and, satisfied no one was listening in, turned back to Nahiya.

  She was watching him with a combination of confusion and amusement on her face. "Well?"

  "Last night I went walking because I couldn't sleep. I found myself in a corridor much like this one. I overheard Helmer talking to Sir Dardanos." Cal relayed in detail everything he'd overheard between Helmer and Dardanos, following it up with how, only a few minutes before, he'd agreed to duel Helmer.

  Nahiya's mouth was hanging open by the time he was finished. "Dwarves' balls, Cal, it isn't even morning meal yet! How've you managed to get into so much trouble so early?"

  "Talent," he responded with a roll of shoulders, but his expression was troubled and weary. "But I need to figure out whether I should tell Taren, or even what I should say."

  "Think about it. How would you do it? Tell him you overheard a plot to discredit him before the queen because someone else said he's been lying about his birth? You'd have to tell him who it was, how you overheard them, what they're doing with the information—everything you've told me. And you'd have to be careful you don't sound like you're accusing him of lying too." She pursed her lips in thought before adding, "On the other hand, you could just tell him you heard rumors and wondered if they were true." She tilted her head up at him. "Does it bother you to think it might be true?"

  "What? No! Of course not. Why would it?"

  "Because if I were you, knowing how much it meant to feel accepted by a noble, to be treated the same as any noble's child, and then to find out that noble's blood was as common as my own ... well I would feel a bit disappointed to think that it wasn't a noble treating a commoner with respect at all, that it was another commoner treating me the way I wished nobles would. I wouldn't think less of him, of course, but it would be a sad thing to learn that it wasn't some great enlightenment among nobles. But I think for you, the worst would be if he's been lying to you all these years."

  Cal stared at her open-mouthed, his own face flushing red. "How did you—"

  "I know you, Cal. One of the reasons you're fond of Taren is you think he's a wonderful person, above the narrow-minded prejudices of the nobility. You've put him up on a pedestal. Now you're wondering if he's just a human being like the rest of us. You're also wondering if the way he's always treated you, the reason he picked you for a squire, is because he's not a noble at all. And you're wondering what that means about what you've made him out to be."

  Cal opened and closed his mouth, looking much like the fish at dinner he'd skipped last night. Nahiya knew him too well. That also meant she had to know what his true feelings for Taren really were. But was she right about his putting Taren on a pedestal?

  "That isn't your biggest problem though," she continued. "This duel with Helmer? You shouldn't have agreed. Something's reeky about it. He's never once challenged you before, and now he does suddenly, the day after you heard him plotting something? I don't like it, Cal. I don't think a duel with Helmer's a good idea. What if he tries something in front of someone?"

  Cal hadn't thought of that. It did, however, tie into his worry that this sudden duel may have had something to do with Helmer's plan after all. His shoulders slumped. "You're right. I shouldn't duel him in—"

  Nahiya straightened. "Trolls' tits, I've forgotten I'm supposed to have kitchen duty this morning. I need to fetch tea and light breakfast fare for Lady Elleni and some other ladies. I've got to go. Cal, find me later and we'll talk more!" She turned and hurried back the way they came, dark hair flying out behind her as she went.

  "—public," Cal finished his sentence in the empty corridor after she'd gone. That was a good solution. If the problem was Helmer trying something in front of witnesses, then the best idea was not to have any witnesses at all, wasn't it? He couldn't just cancel the duel. His honor was at stake.

  Feeling a bit lighter now that one of his problems had a solution, Cal went down to breakfast to join some of the other squires. Baz and Jisuk were already there, as usual, bright-eyed and ready to eat. Armun, however, looked as though he was still asleep as he trudged to their table and slumped into a seat. Hengen was talking to one of the serving girls but came to join them after she had to hurry off to her duties.

  None of them mentioned Cal's bruises. They already knew where they'd come from. It did darken a few expressions until Baz elbowed Cal with a grin on his face. "You missed a good time last night. Hengen's in love again. Doran nearly put out Griff's eye with a dart, and I won our card game."

  Nadir, who was sitting on Baz's other side as always, rolled his eyes. "I'd hardly call falling asleep before the game's over winning, Bastian."

  Baz reached over and tugged on Nadir's straight black hair. "Shut up. I was winning before I slept!"

  Cal started smiling, the tension in his shoulders smoothing away as he joked with the others. He
'd actually joined in teasing Hengen about his newest true love when heavy footsteps approached the table. Cal looked up first. Helmer.

  The other squires mumbled greetings to Helmer. As son of a high lord, he was of a higher rank than most of them, and they'd had plenty of cultured upbringing to teach them how to address him. The same education Cal only received while in training and steadfastly ignored when it came to Helmer. Despite this, Baz made a rude gesture behind Helmer's back and grinned at Cal.

  Cal ignored Helmer entirely, tucking into his breakfast as Helmer spoke just to Griff, the only other squire almost as nasty as Helmer was. They sat at the end of the table, just enough removed from the others. Cal chewed, only half listening as Nadir talked about one of their lessons, instead thinking about Taren. He still didn't know what to say or do about the situation. Maybe he could warn Taren that Dardanos was planning something without bringing up the matter of his birth. But Cal wanted to know if it was true, and if so, how he'd kept it secret. He didn't need to ask why, even though Nahiya was right: part of Cal was upset that Taren might have lied, even to him.

  He thought about it all day, through his morning lessons and through lunch. He thought about it until one half hour before he was to meet Helmer for the duel when his thoughts shifted. He hoped Helmer would agree to a private duel because there was no way he could back out now. He'd be called craven at best and his honor called into question. One couldn't just change one's mind about a duel.

  Cal paused in his walk to the stables, something only just occurring to him. He hadn't mentioned the duel to anyone but Nahiya, but it occurred to him that apparently, Helmer hadn't spread it around either. The other quires would surely have been all over the news, Baz especially, wanting to know where and when so they could watch. Why hadn't Helmer mentioned it to anyone?

  Great. Just what he needed: to be even more nervous about this duel. His stomach in his throat, Cal arrived at the stables where Helmer was waiting, apparently alone. "Where's your second?" Helmer asked without preamble.

  "Don't have one," Cal replied with a sinking feeling. Did he seriously forget something so simple? He should have asked Baz. He would have agreed in an instant. But then, Cal didn't want witnesses, right? "Where's yours?"

  "Don't have one neither."

  "Good, then I've a requirement before we begin," Cal replied.

  "Oh? And what's that, piss-whelp? No witnesses?"

  Cal started. "How did you know I was going to ask that?"

  Helmer laughed. "Why do you think I don't have a second? You ready, or you just going to talk through this duel?"

  Cal hesitated, a little surprised that Helmer had agreed so readily. But since he wanted to keep this quiet as well, he shoved the thought aside and drew his sword. "I'm ready."

  *~*~*

  Cal hissed, the sound a sharp exhalation in the silence. Sir Taren fought fairly, but Helmer, not so. The first time Helmer dropped Cal to the dirt, he grinned. His uneven teeth gave the expression an unsettling weight, more so than the fact that Cal knew it was his own pain Helmer was smiling at.

  He fell back and immediately twisted, ignoring the pain in his side as he lunged, spinning his blade in a quick riposte that Sir Taren would have seen coming.

  Helmer did not.

  The grin fell away from Helmer's face as Cal's blade sliced Helmer's side, only inches from the same spot Helmer had just cut open on Cal.

  It had become a vicious game.

  Helmer swore, a filthy litany that betrayed how often he went slumming in the Red Quarter despite his noble blood. Cal remained silent, letting everything Sir Taren had taught him become a mantra. In the practice rooms it was one thing, but here in the heat of a real duel, he finally let loose. With amazing dexterity, he whirled and sliced, dashed and cut, letting his smaller size be his strength.

  The faster Cal moved, the more Helmer swore until they became taunts and insults, as though he was desperate to get a rise out of Cal. The words Helmer called Cal's mother made Cal's blood burn hot, but still he remained silent, trying his best to stay focused, like Taren always told him to do.

  Helmer not only realized the baiting wasn't working, but it was having the opposite effect. Cal was moving so quickly it was hard to keep up, hard to hit him again. And his silence. Normally Cal mouthed off to him, so his complete refusal to rise to the bait was unnerving.

  To Cal, Helmer suddenly seemed slow, oafish, and he took full advantage. He was sweating and bleeding, his eyes and side stinging in tandem, but he didn't stop. He moved like a dervish, here and gone, cut and run. He noticed openings Helmer left and took them. After Helmer swung too wide, leaving him off balance, Cal dropped to the ground with a sweep of his leg and tripped him. Helmer went down and Cal nearly let loose a short, hysterical laugh in relief. Before he let himself be victorious, he held his sword at Helmer's neck and spoke. "Say it."

  Helmer spat two words as Cal stood over him, sword pointing, foot on his chest, and breath coming fast. It was obvious how much the words pained him, maybe even more so than all the wounds Cal had given him towards the end of their duel. "I yield."

  *~*~*

  He'd won. Somehow, despite Helmer's size and his insistence that he was superior, Cal had won. Victory lent a bounce to his steps as he hurried to his practice session with Taren. He had to share the news.

  Before Cal could say anything, however, Taren stopped him with a look of concern. "Cal. Have you been fighting again?" He phrased the question carefully. Over the years he'd learned how Helmer and Cal didn't get along at all and knew they fought. He also knew just how unfairly tipped in Helmer's favor those fights were due to Helmer's size and his status. But he never knew the worst of it, and Cal liked to keep it that way.

  "Yes, but it's all right because I had a proper duel with Helmer, and I won! I beat him!" Excited, Cal burst out with the story of how Helmer had challenged him to a duel, how Cal had used his stature to an advantage, how he'd won without needing a second, how he'd used what Taren had taught him. It was clear Cal was riding a high from his victory.

  However, despite how pleased Cal was about the outcome, Taren was not.

  "Cal, you shouldn't have dueled him," Taren said quietly.

  "What? But I thought you'd be proud of me for winning," Cal exclaimed, his face hot and red, not with anger but with embarrassment. As always, he fell short, failing to impress or please Sir Taren. It was useless, foolish. Why did he bother? "I used everything you taught me!"

  "Then I failed to teach you common sense and reason," Taren replied, his voice a gruff rumble. "You should not have agreed to duel him, Cal, not like that. There were no witnesses to vouch for your honor. Do you take my meaning?"

  It took Cal a moment to understand. His pride was wounded, and he couldn't even bring himself to tell Taren what he'd heard. Instead, Cal stared at Taren, slow horror dawning on his face as it clicked. No witnesses. Taren meant that Helmer could—and probably would—tell any lie he wished about the altercation, and because of his noble standing, people would be far more likely to believe him than Cal, peasant squire, the queen's charity case. The first of the peasant-born and peasant-raised to enter Her Majesty's Royal Service. That was why Helmer had readily agreed to no witnesses. He didn't want anyone present who could counter whatever story he told. He probably had anticipated a win, but it didn't matter.

  Cal slumped, his shoulders rolling forward in the defeat that Helmer had wanted. "Shit," he said succinctly.

  Taren was silent for a long moment. "I do wish I had seen you, though. I am sure you were magnificent." His voice warmed, and Cal glanced up, just as a large, dark hand landed on his shoulder. "Don't mistake me. I am proud you won, Cal. I wish to be present for your next victory. I know you'll have many more."

  Cal stared upward into Taren's eyes—dark brown and always so unreadable. Except now. Now they were shining with pride and something else, something that made Cal swallow against a lump in his throat. Taren's hand was almost unbearably warm, and Cal wo
ndered, not for the first time, just how it would feel to have those large, warm hands touching him everywhere.

  His face reddened and he had to look away before those eyes and that warmth drew him in too deep, made him do something embarrassing. "Thank you," he mumbled, staring at Taren's shoulder, the highest he could force his gaze upward. "There's more though," he started, trying to figure out how to broach the subject. He was sure Helmer and Dardanos had been told a lie or were lying themselves. There was no way Taren wasn't a noble. It would be too easy to check with the Veretti family if he was only claiming to be one. It had to be false. But still, the matter remained that they were planning to find or fabricate some proof, which meant Taren was still in danger. "It's about you. There's something I have to tell you. Ask you."

  Taren shook his head and withdrew a little too quickly. "No more stalling. It's already quite late. You've had a duel today, but that doesn't excuse you from regular practice. Draw your sword and let's begin."

  "But..."

  Taren fell into his opening stance. "Ready when you are," he replied, his face as determined as his voice.

  Cal had no choice but to fight.

  Their session was intense, Taren pushing Cal harder than usual, as though he wanted to see what skills he'd used to best Helmer. Cal obliged, favoring dexterity over strength, tumbling and rolling to his feet when downed, faster than Taren could strike a 'finishing' blow. Over and over, Taren drilled him, something shining in his eyes as Cal pushed past his own limits to keep going.

  By the time they were both ready to end their session, it was late, growing dark, and dinner had already begun. Cal was a mess, drained, and a little shaky, but he'd actually managed to best Taren twice with surprise moves.

  But he was grinning, his worries from the day gone. He'd almost forgotten about Helmer and Dardanos; what little presence they had in his mind was obliterated when Taren rested a hand on his shoulder again. "You fought well, Cal. I can see easily how you bested Helmer." The hand on his shoulder stayed there a moment, then moved down to the middle of his back as Taren steered him toward the exit.