A Matter of Honour

A Matter of Honour
Lawrence Everett, level 12 Lord [Blonde Panther]
Min'nei, level 10 Soldier [Darth Slaverus]

Lawrence sighed deeply as he sat down, just outside Themis Manor. Sitting on the steps leading up to the double doors was far from the most lordly thing he had done today, but for once, he didn't care. His men had arrived today- nine men and two women, each a peerless team with their designated horse, capable of tackling almost any terrain without the characteristic difficulty cavalry had. They lacked real firepower, but for this mission in the deserts of Plegia, they would be perfect.

Trying to figure out a distinct route that would both be time-efficient and not tax the horses with Captain Vincent, the leader of the squad, had proved frustrating. Lawrence's desire to have everything in the palm of his hand, combined with Captain Vincent's conviction that he knew better than anyone what the squad could and could not handle, had quickly led to arguments that had only ceased when they had agreed to step outside for some fresh air.

Lawrence sighed and got up, deciding he'd stretch his legs by walking the short distance into town from the manor and back. He had his sword with him, so he was sure he'd be fine. Stretching his back, he started walking, although he stopped within seconds to pet the head of his trusty horse, who had looked up as he passed by. All in all, he was pretty sure THEY'D be the liability in the desert, as Captain Vincent had pointed out. "We'll be fine, lass," he said, gently tugging on one of Guinevere's ears. "Naga will keep us safe."

Savouring the fresh afternoon breeze as she walked along the paved road, Min'nei was in higher spirits than usual. One foot in front of the other... Though it was no cure, clean air and exercise allowed her to stave off the symptoms of her illness for a time. Indeed, she felt far better than she had in town, the serene atmosphere of the open road temporarily providing relief from the unpleasant queasiness that welled up in her breast. But, as if to appease some twisted sense of balance in the universe, Min'nei's mind soon turned to more troubling thoughts even as her body seemed to recover.

War was brewing between the three nations of the Ylissean continent, and it was clear where Min'nei's sympathies lay. The people of Ylisse were fellow Naganites, brothers and sisters-in-arms against the Fell Dragon's foul yoke. They had not instigated the war, nor had they resorted to the cowardly tactic of taking hostages. Among those wronged were the people of Themis, one of Ylisse's border territories, a place sure to be the backdrop for many battles to come.

It was here that Min'nei intended to join the conflict in earnest. The Duke's manse lay just ahead of her, further down the path. Surely he would welcome any able-bodied warriors willing to lend aid? And perhaps, on the crimson fields of war, she could at last find release from her torment.

As her destination came into view, Min'nei spied a young man with a horse, evidently preparing to depart the manor. He was likely a messenger or knight, and she saw no reason to disturb him. She spared him only a brief glance as she passed him by, giving him a polite nod as was customary upon meeting a fellow traveler, before continuing on her way and ascending the steps to the manor's grand entrance.

As Guinevere snorted in protest of her master tugging on her ear -which was strange enough in and of itself, she'd never protested against it-, Lawrence spied a pale, weak-looking woman coming up to him and preparing to pass by him on her way to Themis Manor. Alarm bells went off in the noble's head- he didn't know the exact way the Themis court operated, but he was pretty certain that their policy on commoners entering their manor unannounced was the same as Everett's. As the woman passed behind him, he let go of Guinevere and turned around, grabbing her arm.

The sensation almost sent shivers down his back. The arm he grabbed felt so brittle under his hand. As if he was very fortunate to not have broken her bones when he had carelessly grabbed her. Loosening his grip ever so little, he set himself over his discomfort and looked at her weary eyes. "Hold, milady. Who are you, what brings you to Themis Manor, and are you scheduled for an audience with His Grace?"

Min'nei stiffened as her arm was seized from behind, eyes narrowing as she spun on her heel to face the impudent knight. In Chon'sin, such a violation of one's person would be seen as the very height of insolence. A less-composed maiden might have cuffed the man upside the head for this breach of propriety, but Min'nei, ever the paragon of restraint, merely stared him down for a few tense seconds before replying.

"I am Min'nei, a warrior of Chon'sin. The Halidom has gone to war, has it not? This province- Themis, you call it- shall run red before long. Your duke will need many soldiers both brave and true to stem the tide of Plegian jackals... And I would offer him my spear. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

With that, she pried her arm loose from Lawrence's grasp and watched him intently, studying his body language. He had the build of a fighter, and Min'nei hoped that it would not come to blows if he accused her of being a spy.

Being of noble birth and having had a privileged educational position, Lawrence knew of Chon'sin. He knew it was a land on the overseas continent of Valm, of which disturbing rumors had found their way to his ears. That Min'nei said she would offer her spear to Lord Themis struck him as odd, though- Chon'sin was known for its swordsmen, not for its lancers. Still, he assumed that if Plegia used other warriors than just scholars of dark magic, then Chon'sin was not isolated from weapons such as lances and bows.

Importantly though, the people of Chon'sin were Naganite like the Ylisseans, as far as he knew. So it was likely that Min'nei spoke the truth. "It does," he replied to her, letting go of her arm. She seemed more upset about it than he had anticipated. Maybe he'd actually hurt her? Gods, he hoped not. "And I can save you a trip and the hassle of getting an audience. Lord Themis didn't even have time to attend the conference in Ylisse- I understand he is ill, and that his finest men are leading the defense of the border rather than him. Speaking to him will yield you no results."

He scratched Guinevere behind her ears as he looked over the woman again. "I am Lawrence Everett, and along with another noble of Ylisse I will be leading a sacred mission into Plegia..." he trailed off. On second thought, while her stance was admirably healthy, he found it difficult to believe her a warrior. Besides, lancers couldn't be kept near the rear to effectively do their work. Where had his head been, that he had almost recruited her? He shook his head. "Forgive me. I must be tired."

Lord Themis was ill? Min'nei closed her eyes in consternation. Fate had a rather cruel sense of humour... Still, she was unable to see why that prevented her from joining his forces. Could she not simply speak to one of the marshals in the duke's stead? Min'nei was about to press the matter when the knight, Lawrence Everett, said something that caught her interest.

"A *sacred* mission?" She repeated, quickly reevaluating her prospects for a glorious end. Ylisse was a theocracy governed by the tenets of the Divine Dragon. If its inhabitants decreed that a task held theological weight, then they likely were not wrong. And to die in Naga's service would afford her family the highest honour... Further inquiry was required.

"There is nothing to be concerned about. My people also revere the Divine Dragon. As a Naganite, I would hear more of your quest."

Aargh. He now paid the price for having brought up his mission to a fellow Naganite. He would have to give her information now, and risk having to bring her with him. Still, he'd brought it up, so... "You may have heard that our Exalt, Lady Emmeryn, has been taken by Plegian troops. His Highness Prince Chrom has requested that I lead an expedition into the desert to rescue her."

Just as he wanted to interject that he had no desire to involve her, one of his healers showed up. "Ah, Rayne." The brown-haired, short woman smiled at her lord and bowed before addressing him. He didn't mind having her along- she was a mounted healer and one of their finest riders, and he could keep her to the back of the lines to work her literal magic.

"Your Grace, Captain Vincent wishes to see you. He said he wants to give coming up with a route another try."

"Very well," Lawrence said. "Tell him I'll be there as soon as I can." He then nodded towards Min'nei. "My apologies... I have to make my preparations."

Having already heard of Exalt Emmeryn's capture during Plegia's initial invasion, Min'nei let out an audible gasp when Sir Everett told her of his mission. Few could match the dignity and grace with which the Ylissean ruler carried herself; that she should languish in the clutches of the wicked King Gangrel was an injustice that cried out to be righted! It seemed that at last fortune had smiled upon Min'nei, to have encountered this knight before he set out on his gallant quest! This was a worthy task, one that she would have gladly given her life to accomplish even if she *hadn't* been doomed by her affliction.

"Please, wait for just a moment longer. Forgive my intrusion, but might I be allowed to accompany you? Even in Chon'sin, your Exalt is well-known as a woman of great honour and integrity. I truly wish to see her unharmed as much as any Ylissean. 'Twould be shameful to withhold aid from a fellow Naganite, and I would offer my might freely as a token of friendship between our two peoples. What say you?" Min'nei bowed low to Lawrence and the messenger as she made her request, mindful that she should be humble when asking for such a boon, especially within the domain of another.

"What?!" Lawrence turned on his heels, looking back at the woman. "That is out of the question!" He heard Rayne sigh next to him, but held out his hand before she could speak. "We're a small group," he said, "And I intend to keep it that way. We don't have enough men on the frontlines to accommodate more backline fighters, and I can't bring a woman to the frontlines."

Rayne, recognising her lord's tirade, rolled her eyes when she was sure he wasn't watching. "My lord," she then said, "If I may..."

"No, Rayne," Lawrence interrupted her. "You may not. You may return to your captain and tell him that I'll be with him as soon as possible." He then turned back to Min'nei. "I apologize. But I cannot bring you under whatever circumstances."

Min'nei was no stranger to remarks concerning her gender. Her mother had often expressed a similar sentiment to Sir Everett, seeking to dissuade her daughter from the path of the warrior. "A woman's place is in the home, not the battlefield," was a mantra she had heard many times in her youth. She had long since grown a thick skin when it came to such views, choosing to prove them wrong through deeds rather than words. Thus, she took no great offense at the knight's apparent misogyny.

Her pride as a warrior, however, could not allow the slight to go unpunished.

"'Tis curious that you would gladly suffer a woman to rule your nation, but not to raise arms in her defense." Min'nei rose from her bow, her steely gaze lingering on Rayne for a moment, before passing over to Lawrence. Almost imperceptibly, her right hand inched toward her spear. "I know not what calibre of women inhabit Ylisse, but I assure you that those of Chon'sin are no delicate flowers. Mayhap a quick spar, as a demonstration of my abilities, would persuade you to reconsider? "

"I do not 'suffer' a woman to rule my nation, my lady." It irked Lawrence to hear Min'nei question his judgment- why did every last woman have to be so difficult about this? "I have never questioned Her Holiness's capability to govern a nation. However, I would sooner not put her at the front of an army as I have no desire to be the soul who tells Prince Chrom that his sister died under my watch." His gaze steeled over to hide his anxiety. "The same applies to yourself."

When she suggested a spar, Lawrence composed himself. No, he did not want to spar with this woman; he was unfocused and besides, he had better things to do. Still, if there was one thing he could tell, it was that Min'nei was not going to give up. "Very well," he sighed. "However, should I best you, you will let this matter rest. Are we in agreement?"

"If it is the wrath of my kin you fear, you have nothing to worry about. Death has already claimed me. All I seek is a glorious release from this mortal coil." Min'nei replied solemnly to the knight, a grave expression adorning her features. She paused to let that sink in for a moment, hoping he would begin to understand just how dedicated she was to being a warrior. Then, satisfied that the gravity of her situation had not been lost on him, Min'nei went for the kill:

"Of course, the mere fact that you would be frightened to report ill-tidings to your liege lord bespeaks a certain... cowardice in your blood, more in line with what should be expected of a cur than a knight. Are you certain you wish to face me?" As an experienced fighter, Min'nei knew that exploiting your opponent's emotions was a cunning tactic that often resulted in victory. By insulting the honour of Sir Everett as well as that of his family in front of a Ylissean woman, she had ensured that he could not back down with his reputation intact.

Truthfully, Min'nei meant nothing by her words, holding no personal grudge against this man. Her insincere taunt had merely been a ruse to rouse his anger, which would lead him to accept her challenge and fight recklessly in their duel, thereby sealing his own defeat. Privately, she wondered why warriors of other cultures never seemed to adequately train themselves to remain composed in battle. The mark of a masterful warrior was to find serenity even in the chaos of conflict... Perhaps Chon'sin's reverence of its warrior-founders had simply bred a superior philosophy toward the art of war.

Lawrence was still thinking up a reply to her suicidal convictions when Min'nei crossed a line. He cared little for being insulted normally; while offensive, the fact that some felt the need to resort to them said more about the insulter than about him. However, that didn't mean he could shrug off personal insults altogether, and by implying that his 'cowardice' (which he possessed none, merely common decency) ran in his blood, she had insulted his entire family. Lawrence tolerated no insult to his siblings, nor to his deceased parents or ancestors.

Resisting the urge to retort with an insult of his own -regardless of his ire, he could not show indecency towards a woman-, Lawrence settled for staring into Min'nei's eyes with a steeled, cold gaze. She'd made a terrible mistake. Those of House Everett were passionate warriors, and when provoked said passion only made them stronger. To make matters worse, Lawrence's stubborn pride in particular forbade him to back down from a duel with someone who had brought shame to his family name. "There is a training ring near the barracks," he finally said, his voice seething. "Meet me there in ten minutes. I will arrange for training weapons."

He turned around to walk back inside. "Rayne," he said to the Troubadour, "inform Vincent that I'll take a little while longer and that he has to draft up something reasonable."

"Yes, my lord."

"Very well." Min'nei nodded sagely, impressed by his relatively calm response to her scathing challenge. Not as impressed as she would have been if he had turned her down and called her bluff, of course, but she suspected few on this continent could have attained that level of mastery over their instincts. "I shall go there forthwith. If you will excuse me..."

Quickly making two last bows, one for Sir Everett and one for Lady Rayne, Min'nei turned and departed for the barracks. As she walked, she found herself looking forward to the upcoming duel. Since leaving Ferox, the sickly warrior had not encountered a proper chance to test her capabilities.

It had been too long since she had last immersed herself in the stark purity of honest combat...

Lawrence followed Rayne inside, but left her side rather soon as he made for the chambers he had been given. It was here that he had left his armour this morning, not seeing the need for it since they wouldn't leave today. He pulled his coat off, changing into more comfortable clothes that allowed him to move around more easily before putting on his armour. He left his cape where it was, though- there was no need for ornate displays of wealth. Wealth in and of itself had never made anyone a better warrior, and he knew better than to expect Min'nei to go easy on him when -or if- she recognized him for an Ylissean noble.

Actually, if she had not recognized him as such -if she had, she had given no sign of it- it was quite a welcome change of pace. It had been a long time since he could go all-out in a friendly match, as all his recent opponents had felt the need to hold back so as not to scar a noble. It was one of the few things that he and Ray agreed on without hesitation- it was annoying and hindered his growth. With Min'nei as determined as she was... well, these WERE practice weapons. Maybe he could cheat on his moral code a bit.

By the time he joined the Chon'sinite warrior in the training ring, he had found a practice sword and a practice lance, taking the former in his dominant hand as he tossed the latter towards the woman with the other one. "Considering your inanimate companion, I took the liberty of assuming the spear is your chosen field," he explained. "I propose a simple spar, with the winner defined as he -or she- who first succeeds in toppling the other." He brought his blade up in greeting. "Is this acceptable, milady?"

Catching the blunted armament with a deftness one would not normally expect from a terminally-ill woman, Min'nei immediately performed a cursory inspection of the weapon. Fortunately, the length and weight of the shaft were similar to that of Ya'ri; she would not have to shift her style to accommodate a discrepancy in balance. Shouting a kiai, she proceeded to carry out a brief series of swings and thrusts to limber up and grow accustomed to the feel of the practice lance. Then, satisfied that she would be suitably proficient with it, Min'nei turned to face Sir Everett.

"I believe this shall suffice. I accept your terms." She answered, bowing yet again before assuming a defensive stance, tilting the tip of her lance toward the knight and spreading her feet apart. She resisted the temptation to add that although the spear was indeed her field, she had selected it out of necessity, not choice. Such a comment would likely be interpreted as an unseemly complaint or an excuse for failure. No, she would reveal that only after emerging victorious in this bout. It would serve as a good lesson in humility for the young Ylissean lord.

While Min'nei knew better than to underestimate any opponent, she had difficulty imagining just how Sir Everett could best her. She had the advantage of reach, mobility, composure, and probably experience. Her own knowledge of swordplay would allow her to predict his attacks... And he was almost certain to underestimate her, given her frail appearance, the one blessing her wretched condition had deigned to bestow upon her. So long as she applied herself, her skills and determination would carry the day.

However, as she waited for Sir Everett to make a movement, Min'nei felt a dull throbbing within her skull, and with a start she realized how she might be defeated. Grimacing to block out the pain of the unwelcome sensation, she looked to Lawrence and called to him, hoping to inspire him to action.


"Let us begin." She would have to end this duel, quickly.

Lawrence didn't wait.

While not entirely irrational in his insulted pride, he could be an impetuous warrior- he liked the advantage of the first strike, even though he admitted it was not all-important. Fortunately, thus far he had had the skill necessary to back up his reckless ventures, but this time, he was fighting at a disadvantage. He was heavier than Min'nei; his sword had less reach than her lance; and he was angry. However, he had one very distinct advantage over Min'nei, one that, if used properly, could overturn all of her advantages and turn the battle into his favour.

Strength.

He was physically stronger than Min'nei, even if only because he was a man, and she, a woman. This was not sexism on Lawrence's part, but on nature's; as if to compensate for women's better natural agility. Adding to this was how frail she was- he wasn't arrogant enough to think that he could knock her over with one good blow, but in the end, his strength would win out over hers.

All of these thoughts flitted through the noble's head within less than a second, and Min'nei had hardly finished challenging him when he leapt forward, bringing his sword forward towards her lance, to gauge how well she could receive his blows.

Allowing herself the slightest twinge of pleasure at the fact that Sir Everett was acting according to her plan, Min'nei took a step backward to evade his impetuous lunge, dropping into a crouch as she did so to make herself a smaller target. Footwork was key in all aspects of warfare, and by observing how Lawrence distributed weight in his legs, she had been able to anticipate his attack and answer it in kind.

Bracing her arms, the sickly warrior made a swift jab toward Lawrence's stomach, hoping his momentum would carry him onto the tip of her lance, while using her reach to keep him out of striking distance. As long as she could hold him at bay, he wouldn't be able to make the most of his blade. By focusing purely on offense, he was playing right into her hands...

Perhaps this duel would be over soon, after all.

He couldn't say he shouldn't have seen it coming, really. The particular kind of lunge he opened with was easy to dodge, and he'd not yet mastered a follow-up to it, so obviously, Min'nei had little trouble evading the blow. However, she wasn't the only one who could respond to the actions of the other. When he fell forward and slammed his foot down to catch himself, he immediately lashed out to interrupt her jab- a move requiring precision, but as steel clanged loudly on steel, he hopped back slightly out of her range.

He'd give her this one. He just had to keep watching for an opening...

Wincing as Lawrence turned aside her blow and disengaged himself, Min'nei realized that her hands were shaking. An unnerving numbness had taken root in her limbs following the jarring clash of weaponry, save for a dull warmth that foretold nothing benign. Privately cursing her own weakness, she took advantage of Sir Everett's withdrawal to renew her guard in preparation for another offensive.

However, to Min'nei's mild annoyance, the knight did not launch a second assault, instead opting to hang back and wait. Evidently, he was no novice... He learned from his errors and did not repeat them. Now, the onus was on her to respond to his passivity, and with the symptoms of her illness serving as a dire reminder that speed was of the essence, she knew she would have to fight with great skill. Polearms were not as versatile as swords, so simply attacking Sir Everett directly was unlikely to succeed. She would have to bait him with a feint.

Holding her lance perpendicular to her body, Min'nei thrusted toward Lawrence, leaning forward without moving her legs to give the illusion she was actually committing to an attack. The tip stopped well-short of the man's breast- a deliberate choice on Min'nei's part. With luck, he would believe that she had misjudged the distance between them and overextended herself.