“What am I doing here?” Gregor shouted. “What are you doing here? This is my army.”
“That you raised in my name,” the highwayman said.
“I did not!” Gregor said, shocked.
“Oh, you didn’t, did you? You never showed anyone the brand on your chest, said, ‘come with me and fight for the king’ and lead every decent criminal in the kingdom into a trap!”
“It wasn’t meant to be a trap,” Terry said.
“You keep out of this!” the highwayman responded. “I’m busy cleaning up your friend’s mess!” He drew his sword menacingly. Gregor did the same, glancing sideways at Terry.
“He’s right, Terry, this is between the two of us.”
“Okay, but are you going to fight in the tent?” Terry asked.
The two of them glowered at each other. “No,” Gregor said. “We will fight in front of the army—for the soul of the army.”
“Yes--Fight to the death!” the highwayman roared. “In front of the army so that they can see how you have been vanquished forever.”
They arranged to meet with full armor, swords and shields in the nearest clearing at noon, so that the army could witness their battle to the death. The highwayman gave Gregor his flag, so that he could fight under it. After terms were agreed, Gregor and Terry withdrew to join Maurice and Arabelle, who were none too pleased to hear the news.
“But why do you have to fight him to the death?” Maurice said.
“Because he took my army,” Gregor replied simply. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be alone until the battle.”
“But the ogres—” Terry said. Gregor didn’t seem to hear her. He strode off into the woods, a giant of a man with the grace of a true warrior. They watched him disappear into the trees.
“So the highwayman looks just like Gregor,” Arabelle finally said. “But Gregor’s so huge, now, especially after he killed the mountain wraithlord.”
Terry shrugged. “The highwayman is just as tall and broad,” she said. “It’s unsettling to see the two of them together. I’m sure they’re evenly matched in battle—I can’t believe he agreed to this,” she burst out suddenly, and put her hands in her face, but just for a second. She shook it off and sighed. “I thought after I vanquished the wizard, everything would turn back to normal, but Gregor’s life is in more danger now than it ever has been.”
“That’s not true,” Maurice said. “He almost got hanged, remember? That was the highwayman’s fault, too.”
“Who is this doppleganger?” Terry said in frustration.
They tried to rest as best they could, but it was of little use. Gregor returned from deep in the forest a few minutes before noon. Carrying their standard, the four of them headed towards the clearing where the battle would take place. They were in the army’s encampment, yet the individual soldiers ignored them for the most part, as the highwayman had decreed that they be let alone until the battle. What pained Terry more than the stakes of the upcoming battle was the knowledge that they would not be fighting together. This was Gregor’s battle only, and she would have to stand back and let them fight.
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“I wish I could just tell the army that the king will pardon them,” Terry said.
“You could, but they won’t believe you,” Gregor replied. “24 hours ago you were imprisoned in your father’s dungeon. No, there’s only one way. I must kill the highwayman.”
They wound their way into the clearing, which was about half an acre in size. A mass of soldiers stood on the edge of the circle watching.
“I hope someone’s on guard for trolls and ogres,” Arabelle said.
“They don’t like to attack the encampment,” Gregor responded. “It’s too dense with people, and the ogres at least are not organized enough to attack together.”
“What about the trolls?” Maurice said.
But Gregor didn’t answer. Instead, he drew on his gauntlets, then slipped his iron helmet over his head. Across the clearing, the highwayman did the same.
They faced each other, broadswords drawn and at the ready.
“You tried to lead my people to certain death,” the highwayman shouted.
“I led them to HONOR!” Gregor roared, and charged at the highwayman, brandishing his sword. The highwayman stood, one foot slightly in front of the other, both hands on the hilt of his sword as he held it in a defensive position, ready to deflect whatever Gregor could muster. Gregor swung with all his might down and across the body of the highwayman, but he deflected Gregor’s thrust with his own sword. The clang was terrific, and the crowd shouted madly at this first strike of metal upon metal.
They squared up again and exchanged blow for blow—each thrust met with a parry that deflected it, and Terry saw that her worst fears were realized. They were evenly matched, and could go on unto exhaustion. Even now, both had begun to breathe heavier, their heaving chests apparent even under their metal armor. They went in again—Gregor stabbed directly in front of him, and the highwayman lifted Gregor’s sword with his own, flinging it out of the way. Then he raised his own and circled the air with it in preparation for a slicing downward blow, but before he could bring down the heavy sword upon Gregor’s head, Gregor rushed him physically and grappled him to the ground with a sickening crunch. The crowd was out of control as the two giant men rolled and punched. The highwayman’s sword had flown out of his hand on impact, and Gregor held his sword but could not use it as he was too physically close. Instead, he closed his gauntleted fist on the handle and rammed it into the faceplate of the highwayman over and over.
As Gregor reared back and attempted to thrust his sword into the highwayman’s face, the criminal doubled up his legs and kicked Gregor as hard as he could in the stomach. Gregor stumbled back a couple of feet while the highwayman crawled on his belly towards his sword. But before he could grab it, Gregor was on him again, swinging down his sword with all his might onto the supine highwayman. The sword, however, bounced off of his heavy armor as the highwayman grabbed his own sword and rolled onto his back, brandishing it. Gregor met the sword with his own and crashed it out of his hands again, then straddled the highwayman and put his gauntleted fists around his neck, where his chest armor ended and his helmet began.
“A fight to the death—” he roared. “You shall have it, highwayman! And you shall die!”
The army had fallen into a shocked silence as Gregor choked the life out of the highwayman, whose armored body twitched horribly as the oxygen left his bloodstream. Gathered under their standard, Terry, Maurice, and Arabelle could hardly watch. Relieved as they were, it was a terrible thing to witness.
Suddenly, there was a bloodcurdling scream.
“Gregor! Stop!”
Terry turned around. Coming through the forest was a woman who seemed about the age of the queen, her own mother. She was tall and thick-waisted. Her long, black hair was tied on top of her head and streaked with gray.
“You’re killing your brother!” she cried.
Gregor looked up. “Who are you?” he said, his hands not leaving the highwayman’s neck. “I’ve never you seen you before in my life!”