Dawn brought a glimmer of hope, but also an increase in tension. We knew we were only a day away from reaching the barony, a refuge that seemed so close and yet so far. Ricardo and I mounted our horses with renewed determination, aware that this could be the decisive day.
Our horses were exhausted, and so were our bodies, but the need for survival pushed us forward. The barony was our only chance of safety, a place where we could finally rest and perhaps plan our next move against those pursuing us.
As we rode, the feeling of being hunted intensified. The distant sound of hooves alerted us that our pursuers were getting closer. There were twenty men at the beginning, but along the way, only seven had managed to follow us, with two already fallen in previous ambushes. Five remained, and we knew these five were relentless.
The forest began to thin out, giving way to open fields that left us more exposed. Ricardo looked at me with an expression that mixed fatigue and determination. “We’re close, my lord. Just a bit more.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the growing fear inside me. “We’ll make it. We have to make it.”
But fate seemed to have other plans. As we approached a hill that would give us a clear view of the path to the barony, we heard an unmistakable sound: commands being shouted and the noise of accelerating hooves. There was no more time to flee.
We quickly climbed the hill, and upon reaching the top, we saw the inevitable sight: five men armed with swords, blocking our way. Their faces were marked by determination and fatigue, but they were ready to finish what they started.
Ricardo pulled the reins, making his horse stop abruptly. I did the same, feeling my heart race. We were cornered.
“There’s nowhere to run,” said one of the men, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “The game’s over, Miguel.”
A chill ran down my spine. I looked at Ricardo, who maintained his firm posture, but his eyes betrayed his worry.
“We’re surrounded, my lord,” he murmured, his hand discreetly going to the hilt of his sword. “But we won’t give up without a fight.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. I knew the upcoming battle would be tough, perhaps impossible to win. But there was no other choice. We had to fight, for our lives and for a chance at justice.
Silence settled for a moment, heavy and laden with tension. The five men began to advance slowly, swords drawn and ready for combat.
Ricardo’s heavy breathing beside me was a constant reminder of our desperate situation. We needed to be ready because the battle was about to begin.
The sound of the pursuers’ footsteps echoed in my mind, each one a beat in the drum of the imminent battle. My eyes quickly scanned the environment, looking for any advantage. The sword in my hand felt heavy and strange. I had never used one before; it was an alien object in my hands, and Miguel’s memories were confused, even though he had taken fencing lessons with Ricardo. I still couldn’t concentrate on those specific memories. However, something in me remembered the Brazilian jiu-jitsu lessons. I knew how to use my body, how to control the distance.
I looked at Ricardo, who was ready to fight with his sword drawn. He noticed my hesitation but said nothing. Suddenly, a clear decision took over me. I dropped the sword to the ground, the blade falling with a dull thud, and drew the dagger I carried. Ricardo looked at me, confused.
“My lord, what are you doing?” he whispered urgently.
“Trust me,” I replied, trying to keep confidence in my voice. The truth was, I had no choice. I needed to use the skills I knew.
The five men advanced, swords gleaming in the faint dawn light. My body went into alert mode, every muscle tense and ready to act. I needed to get close, close the distance where their swords would be less effective, and I could use my fighting skills.
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One of the men moved first, swinging his sword with a fierce cry. I quickly sidestepped, dodging the blow, and closed the distance between us in the blink of an eye. He didn’t expect that, his balance lost for a moment, and I took advantage.
With a quick and decisive move, I plunged the dagger into his side. He screamed in pain, trying to react, but I was already moving again, using my jiu-jitsu skills to dodge and avoid his clumsy strikes. A second stab with the dagger hit his neck, and he fell to the ground, life escaping from his eyes.
The blood on the ground and the fallen body brought me a mixed feeling of triumph and horror. It was the first time I had killed someone, but I couldn’t think about it much at the moment. I had to survive. Ricardo, seeing what I had done, looked at me with a new understanding, though still confused.
“Good job, my lord,” he murmured, turning his attention to the other attackers surrounding us. “But we still have more to deal with.”
The other four men approached, more cautious now after seeing their companion fall. The sound of clashing swords and combat cries filled the air. I was focused, every move calculated, every breath controlled. I needed to survive, I needed to protect Ricardo and myself.
The fight was far from over, but the first enemy had fallen. A small victory amidst the chaos.
---
The clangor of swords echoed through the clearing, mingling with the shouts and heavy breathing of the combatants. Ricardo, his eyes burning with determination, had neutralized two attackers. Now only the leader of the pursuers and another man focused on Miguel remained. The fatigue was beginning to take a heavy toll on everyone there.
The leader, a man with a severe, scarred face, advanced on Ricardo with a series of quick, precise strikes. Ricardo dodged and blocked each one, his sword moving with lethal grace.
“Do you really think you can escape?” the leader growled between attacks. “You and that traitor are doomed.”
Ricardo responded with a disdainful smile, stopping the leader’s attack with a skillful move. “You talk too much for someone who can’t win a fair fight.”
The swords clashed again, sparks flying as the two men exchanged blows and defenses. Ricardo seized an opening, forcing the leader to retreat. But the man was skilled and quickly recovered, attacking with renewed fury.
“Traitor? Who’s the real traitor here?” Ricardo taunted, spinning to avoid a strike and responding with a quick slash that the leader barely managed to deflect.
“You understand nothing, peasant,” the leader replied, launching a side attack that Ricardo easily blocked. “Your friend is an obstacle, and obstacles need to be removed.”
Ricardo laughed, a short, humorless sound. “An obstacle to whom? To you mercenaries paid by those who don’t have the guts to dirty their own hands?”
As the two exchanged blows and words, Miguel faced his own opponent. The dagger was an extension of his arm, and he used his Jiu-jitsu skills to keep the man off balance, dodging attacks and searching for an opening.
Ricardo and the leader continued their deadly dance. The leader advanced with a vertical strike that Ricardo deflected with a circular movement of his sword, using the force of the opponent’s attack against him. Ricardo then launched a quick thrust that the leader barely blocked, retreating and trying to create space for a counterattack.
“You’re good, I’ll give you that,” the leader admitted, breathing heavily. “But it won’t save you.”
“I don’t need saving,” Ricardo replied, advancing with a series of quick strikes that forced the leader to retreat again. “I just need to finish you off.”
The two men continued to fight, each movement a testament to their skill and determination. The sound of metal against metal resonated through the clearing as the duel intensified.
---
As the fight between Ricardo and the leader continued, Miguel faced his own challenge. The man in front of him, a robust and experienced soldier, advanced with his sword at the ready. Miguel felt the familiar adrenaline of combat, mixed with the tension of knowing his life depended on each move.
With the dagger firm in his hand, Miguel used his Jiu-jitsu skills to keep his opponent off balance. He dodged the attacks, evading with quick and precise movements while searching for an opening to strike. The man swung with a powerful slash, but Miguel ducked, rolling to the side and quickly rising to strike with the dagger. The attacker blocked it, but Miguel was already moving again, using the close proximity to execute a Jiu-jitsu move that sent his opponent to the ground.
Miguel knew he had to act fast. With the man down, he pounced, pinning him to the ground and applying an arm lock he had learned in his Jiu-jitsu classes. The soldier struggled, but Miguel’s strength and advantageous position gave him the upper hand. With a precise movement, he drove the dagger into the enemy’s throat, ending the fight quickly and silently.
Back to the duel between Ricardo and the leader, the battle was intensifying. Ricardo attacked with a flurry of quick strikes, forcing the leader to retreat. But the leader was not ready to give up. With a roar of fury, he launched a series of rapid cuts, forcing Ricardo to block desperately.
The leader saw an opening and seized it, landing a blow that broke through Ricardo’s defense and struck his shoulder. The pain was intense and immediate, but Ricardo, with unyielding willpower, maintained his stance. He knew he couldn’t stop now.
“You are really good, no wonder you were the best knight of your generation,” the leader admitted, breathing heavily. “But now you’re just a lackey for that weak bastard.”
“You don’t know him well enough to make such claims, assassin,” Ricardo replied, advancing again with a sequence of quick strikes that forced the leader to retreat. “Let’s finish this.”
The leader attacked again, but this time Ricardo was ready. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he blocked the blow and spun in a fluid motion, disarming the leader with a skillful maneuver. The leader stepped back, surprised, but before he could react, Ricardo advanced with a decisive thrust, driving his sword through the leader’s heart.
The leader looked at Ricardo in disbelief before collapsing to the ground, dead. Ricardo, breathing heavily, looked around and saw Miguel, who had just neutralized his own opponent. They exchanged a glance, both aware that the battle had been won, but the war was far from over.
Ricardo staggered slightly, the pain in his shoulder becoming unbearable. Miguel ran to him, helping him stay upright.
“Are you okay?” Miguel asked, the concern evident in his voice.
“I will be,” Ricardo replied, trying to smile despite the pain. “We need to keep moving, my lord. The barony is near. We can’t stop now.”
Miguel helped Ricardo cover the wound with an improvised bandage, and both mounted their horses again, returning to the road but still cautious, as there might still be more mercenaries in pursuit.
Before leaving, Miguel and Ricardo gathered the swords of the dead mercenaries. Unfortunately, they didn’t have enough ropes to take the mercenaries’ horses, so they let them go.