King's College Cambridge
July 1720
"De Lacy, you son of a bitch!"
I turned as I heard the shout, and was not surprised when I saw its source. Across the quad I could see Alexander Vallencourt, advancing towards me, looking furious. It had been inevitable that he would find out about Elizabeth and we would clash, but I had not expected it so soon.
"What do you want?" I asked, turning towards him and standing my ground. Yes, the man was built like an ox, but as I had grown up I had come to rely on the fact that I was faster and stronger than I looked, and he did not frighten me the way he did the other students.
"You know damn well. Elizabeth is my fiancée," he snarled.
"Not by her choice, Vallencourt," I replied, fixing him with my gaze, but resisting using any of the magics I had been taught. The University had rules which forbade students fighting each other with sorcery.
My cousin Elizabeth had confided to me a few days before that Vallencourt had managed to compromise her on his last visit to her father's estate, so that she had had no option but to become betrothed to him. Her revelation had angered me, as I had always thought of her as a sister when we were growing up, and I knew she deserved better than a stuck up, arrogant pig like Vallencourt. Therefore, since we first had spoken I had started trying to formulate a plan which would free her of him.
The problem was proving what he had done to the satisfaction of her father, my uncle. After all, he thought she had succumbed to Vallencourt's advances, and making him believe otherwise would be difficult. Albert McCauley was as stubborn as a mule once he had a thought lodged in his mind. My cousin was a very willing co-conspirator however, and I had met her for dinner twice since then, so that we could talk. What was surprising to me, though, was that my feelings towards her were changing and I found myself wishing that I, not he, were her betrothed. How easy it was to slip from avenger to jealous lover.
"If you do not stop seeing her as of this moment, I will have no choice but to demand satisfaction."
It was ideal. The perfect solution. The only problem was baiting him into issuing the challenge, especially as we were drawing a crowd by now.
"I have no intention of abandoning my cousin to you, Vallencourt," I said, meeting his gaze. As we stood there, I realised for the first time that if I it wanted to, my mind could cut through his mental shields like a hot knife through butter.
It was too easy. All it took was a brief thought and I felt his glove strike my right cheek. After all, it was what he wanted...
"Choose your second, de Lacy," he growled as his hand fell back to his side. I looked at the shocked faces staring at us from around the quad. Over to one side I saw Harry Collier, a classmate and drinking friend of mine who I knew had fallen foul of my opponent in the past. I gestured to him, and he nodded and stepped forward.
"It would be my pleasure, Robert," he said as he joined us, "Vallencourt, who do you nominate?"
One of his more unpleasant cronies, Richard Courtney, moved over to join him on his signal.
"As the challenged party, I believe Robert has choice of weapons and terms," commented Harry, "so if you will excuse us a moment we need to consult."
My friend and I stepped back and discussed matters for a few minutes. I didn't want to kill Vallencourt, but I did want to teach him a lesson, and I wanted him to leave my cousin alone. With this in mind, we made our decision and stepped forward again.
"Rapiers, here in the quad at eight this evening," declared my second, "the fight will be to first blood, with the loser agreeing never to see Elizabeth McCauley again."
There was a pause as Courtney and Vallencourt, in turn, discussed the offer and then returned their attention back to us.
"Your terms are acceptable," said Courtney, "Collier, do you wish to arrange a doctor or shall I?"
"I shall," replied my friend, and with that our opponents turned their backs on us and made their way back to the staircase up to their respective rooms.
"Robert, is this wise?" asked Harry as they left. He actually looked concerned. "I hear that Vallencourt is pretty good with a rapier."
"So am I, Harry. Don't worry." As I headed back to my own rooms, however, I hoped that I was as good as I thought I was.
I spent the early afternoon finishing a paper on the relative merits of ball and forked lightning, and then adjourned to the salle around five to practise. Mr. Stewart, the fencing master, had heard about the duel by then - I assume the whole college had - and was willing to give me a few pointers. I imagine he had had the same request from Vallencourt earlier, and I was pretty sure that he would be acting as armourer. After all, duels, while uncommon at King's, were not unknown, and Stewart had had a pair of neutral duelling blades made some years before.
I dined in my rooms, and then made my way to the quad at about seven fifty. Harry was already there, with Doctor Cavendish, the college physician, and Stewart. On the grass beside the fencing master was a wooden box which I guessed contained the weapons. Various of the other students were already assembling, as were one or two of the lecturers. I could see Doctor Pitman, my personal tutor, off to one side.
Vallencourt and Courtney arrived about five minutes later and joined us in the centre of the quad. With that, Stewart stepped forwards, and took up the position of marshal.
"Do either of you wish to apologise, so that this affair can be avoided?" he asked, looking at each of us in turn. Vallencourt growled a negative reply, and I, in turn, was unwilling to back down. It was the best way of getting Elizabeth away from him.
"Then choose your weapons, gentlemen," Stewart said, and opened the box. The duelling swords were beautifully made and perfectly balanced, and were a delight to hold. As I stepped back, I gave mine a few test swings to get the feel of it.
"En garde, gentlemen," said Stewart, and we took our positions, "the duel is to first blood."
Vallencourt moved first, but I jumped back and parried fairly easily. There was strength behind his blow, though, and I knew I would have to be careful. I bound his blade and tried to cut back in the low line, but he anticipated my move. It was going to be more interesting than I had expected.
I disengaged, and moved back once more. In reply he stepped forward with surprising grace for a man of his size, but I predicted the feint, parried and riposted. I touched his side, but my thrust wasn't strong enough to draw blood, so I moved back quickly to get out of range of his reply. We paused for a moment, and then he came in slashing furiously. It was all I could do to block him, but once we were corps à corps Stewart ordered us apart. I obeyed, and after a moment Vallencourt did the same. The look of hatred in his eyes startled me, and I realised that I needed to finish this quickly.
I stepped back, then let myself overbalance and flèched at him. The speed of my attack took him by surprise, and as I passed him I felt my blade score on his shoulder. I regained my balance and spun to face him, so that he could not take me from behind, and waited. As he turned, I could see that there was red staining his shirt.
"First blood," declared Stewart and stepped in, "it's over, Vallencourt."
But he was wrong. I brought my sword up to salute, and then I realised that my opponent wasn't reciprocating.
"You bastard, de Lacy," he growled under his breath, as too late I tried to come back to guard, "if I can't have her, neither can you."
He hit out at Stewart, who fell back, and then gestured with his left hand, saying a few words. Almost at the same time he charged towards me with his blade out in front of him. I felt the fireball hit me at the same time as his sword bit into my side, and my first reaction was surprise. Flaunting the sorcery rules in front of most of the college?
The agony hit me a short while later. Half blinded, I pulled away from him, forcing his blade down with my own. Then I thrust back towards him, trying to keep him away from me. I felt my own sword connect, and to my surprise he started to sag to his knees. The blade was pulled out of my hand as I realised it was lodged in his chest, and then the pain overcame me and I blacked out.
I awakened in the infirmary, and I could tell that the burns had been treated, although my side still felt tender and had been firmly bandaged.
"Ah, you've decided to rejoin us, de Lacy," came a voice. I looked to see Professor Scott, Master of the College, standing at the foot of my bed. Very slowly I cast my eye around the solemn faces. Harry was there, as were Cavendish, Pitman and Stewart. I noticed the bruising on the latter's face.
"You should recover without any ill effects, Robert," said Cavendish, "luckily I was on hand to make sure your injuries were treated immediately."
"What happened?" I asked, finally.
"You now have the dubious honour of being the first man to kill another student in a duel at King's," replied Scott.
"Vallencourt is dead?" I couldn't believe it, and yet somehow I knew it was true and the realisation made me uncomfortable. While I had forced the duel, it really hadn't been my intention to kill the man.
"You stabbed him through the heart," said Harry, looking pale.
"He tried to kill me..." I protested, "I was defending myself."
"That, de Lacy, is the main reason why it is us and not the constabulary, who are here," replied Scott, "as for your future at this college, we will discuss that when you are fully recovered."
With that, the Professor turned and left, followed by my tutor and the fencing master. Harry also departed, after saying a few words of encouragement, leaving me alone with Cavendish.
"What do you think they'll do to me?" I asked.
"The worst case is that they will send you down for this. However, it shouldn't come to that. Don't worry about it now, though. Wait until you are recovered."
Then he, too, turned and departed the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts, and once I was on my own, I realised that I was shaking as the enormity of what I had done sank in.