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Marius’s breath came in gasps now as he forced her back.

“Do you not attack?” he cried breathlessly. “Is it all you can do to run?” He pressed her once more, his attacks still skilled despite the fact that he was showing signs of fatigue. Her best strategy was to let him exhaust himself, she knew.

With each step he advanced Kara took another back, keeping him at a suitable distance.

“The girl intends to tire him,” a grizzled veteran observed from the onlookers. “Marius can’t keep it up in his armour.”

“Her speed is surprising,” the man’s companion replied. “And she hasn’t even broken a sweat yet. Nor does she even appear out of breath. It is unnatural.”

Marius made a sudden lunge for her, his face twisted in anger.

And Kara smiled.

Reaching out with her free hand she seized his wrist and twisted. At the same time she lashed out with her foot, kicking his ankle and forcing him to the ground.

Marius gave a startled cry as he dropped the training blade. Then he swore loudly as Kara shoved her open palm into his forehead, putting him flat on his back at her feet.

A cheer went round the courtyard as Marius lifted his head in surprise. Kara stepped away from him, quickly picking up his training blade as she backed away, her eyes shining fiercely.

“It is done!” Theodore shouted, stepping between the combatants. “I declare Kara the victor!”

The peons clapped and shouted, their applause echoed from many of the windows that had opened high up in the castle.

“It is not done!” Marius shouted angrily as he stood. “The victor was to be the first to draw blood. Neither of us is bleeding.”

“That is true,” one of the onlookers remarked cautiously.

“Do you wish to resume Kara?” Theodore asked.

She looked at Marius contemptuously.

“I am happy to, Theodore.” She nodded in her opponent’s direction. “But the boy should note that I’ve taken one weapon off him already. If he wishes to lose another, it is no trouble to me.”

“You dare to mock me?” Marius shouted, enraged, his fists clenched.

“Calm yourself Marius” Theodore advised.

“Squire Marius!” one of his peons shouted from the crowd of onlookers, tossing a training blade to his teacher. Marius grasped it firmly.

Kara saw the hate in his eyes and knew that he perceived her not just as an enemy that day, but as a threat to all he had become amongst the knights. If he were to lose, it would severely damage his standing in the order.

He ran at her, his speed catching her off guard. There were no thrusts or parries this time, for her wooden blade was no deterrent to Marius’s attack. A single cut would not stop him.

Kara’s blade bit into the leather armour at his shoulder as he drove his fist into her stomach. She doubled over, falling to her knees in pain and surprise as Marius triumphantly stepped away from her. He raised his arm and pulled the training blade from his padded shoulder, ignoring the groans of disapproval.

“No blood! The contest is still in progress.” he roared defiantly. “And I have taken my weapon back.”

Kara rose to her feet slowly, her breathing sharp and painful. She had not expected Marius to behave like that. For some reason, she thought that the rules of this game of skill would prevent such brutal assaults. He had not even used the training blade in his attack.

“Are you all right, Kara?” Theodore asked. “You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to.” He stretched out a hand to help her up.

“Do not touch me, Theodore,” she said through gritted teeth. “I just didn’t know Marius was allowed to do that.”

“You can’t play the same game as him, Kara. Marius’s armour will cut your knuckles if you try to hit him-and you have no armour to impede his blows.”

“I am not going to play the same game as him, Theodore.”

“Are you rested enough yet?” Marius sneered. “Or perhaps you would like to return to the ward and your sick bed.” Kara sensed his renewed confidence. She knew he had strength on his side, and she was certain he was going to use it.

With a final deep breath, she readied herself.

“When I am done with you, Marius, it will be you who sleeps in the ward, not I!”

Her words goaded him and he charged once more, his training blade held before him to parry any counter-attack that she might make. But she was not going to let him hit her again. As he swung his arm back, Kara ducked out of his way, getting behind him before he could correct his stance. She ran her foot into the joint behind his kneecap and with a cry Marius fell once more to the ground.

But he would not linger this time. With a roar of animal rage he stabbed back behind him in a wild thrust of desperation.

Again she seized his wrist as she had done before and he tried to push up, opposite to the direction in which she was twisting.

“Do you wish me to end it, Marius?” she taunted. “Or would you like another chance?” She drove her knee into his stomach, knocking the wind from his lungs as he had done to her only a minute before, and at the same time she increased the pressure on his wrist. The training blade landed with a clatter and immediately Kara kicked it away. “That’s both of your weapons I’ve taken, squire!”

She released him with a smile and Marius fell back to the ground, his breathing loud and quick, his face red from exertion. Kara turned and walked away.

“Don’t you dare turn your back on me,” he cried, standing up, his voice trembling with rage.

She was several yards from him now and she made no effort to turn around.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “I am a squire of the Knights of Falador, and you. You are nothing. A nobody.”

His words stung Kara and she stopped in her tracks.

The courtyard was silent.

Kara turned to confront him, her face ashen. There was a truth in his words that hurt her. She didn’t know who she was.

“Marius. Behave yourself,” Theodore shouted. “Those words are beneath you.”

“She cannot hide behind you, Theodore,” Marius roared, laughing savagely as Kara’s face fell. “But the contest isn’t finished yet,” he pressed. “Neither of us bleed.”

Kara raised her head once more to peer intently at him, and for an instant his mocking expression faltered.

When she moved, she did so with unexpected speed, her hand bent back over her shoulder, and in a single movement she threw the training blade at Marius, slicing the air in a path directly toward his face. Only his swift reaction saved him.

He caught the blade in his hand and staggered back, laughing as he felt his fingers close securely on the wood.

“I have taken your weapon from you. Now I will draw your own blood with your own blade.”

“It is over, Marius,” Kara said, her eyes misting from the tears that his words had provoked.

Preparing to stride forward, Marius raised his hand to point the weapon at her.

Then, with a startled grunt, he stopped. For his hand was bleeding. The wooden blade had cut his fingers in several places, and wooden splinters had shredded his skin. Theodore stepped closer to investigate.

“The contest is over. Kara is the victor,” he declared.

There was nothing else to be said. By all their laws Kara had triumphed. The actions of the onlookers prevented him from retaliating as the peons, without exception, swarmed to Kara, clapping her victory and shouting her name. Soon the chant, led by Bryant, could be heard from the courtyard, in celebration of the “Lady Kara”.

Theodore fought his way to her, pushing the more eager peons to one side.

“You must shake hands with Marius, Kara,” he said hurriedly. “The contest is over. There can be no ill thought between you.”