Yes

"I pray with all my heart and soul that you will never come to such an end," you say to Trina. "But if this is what you require of me, then I will do it. And, I understand why it would have to be done."

Trina closes her eyes, nodding. Then you rise to your feet; but for a moment, she remains kneeling, her head bowed. "I spoke to you as one of the Kingsguard should never speak to the King," she says quietly. "Indeed, I spoke to you as no one should ever speak to a man of such honor and decency. I beg your forgiveness, Sire."

"Lady Trina, do not dare beg for forgiveness," you say to her, pulling upon her hand to bring her up from her knees. "There is nothing in what you have said, nor the manner in which you said it, for which you should feel remorse. But if there were, then I would gladly absolve you of any guilt."

"Yes, Sire," she says; and it is at that moment that Wilfred returns with her sword. You feel immeasurably relieved that he did not make it back two minutes earlier!

"Sire!" he gasps, clearly out of breath, and tries to bow to you but nearly drops the sword in the process.

"Wilfred, this is a command from your King: I insist that you collapse on the softest thing you can find in this tent and remain there for as long as you need to recover," you say to him, taking the sword from his arms.

"Thank you... Sire," he says, and proceeds to obey your orders to the letter, dropping onto a straw-filled mattress on the floor.

"With your permission, my Lady?" you ask, holding the swordbelt out. It takes her a moment to understand, but then she nods her head and allows you to buckle it about her waist.

"The quarter-hour has nearly elapsed, Sire," she says, her voice calm and steady. "There is something I must do to prepare, and I must do it alone."

"Indeed," you reply. "Tell me true, my Lady; do you believe in your heart that you will prevail?"

"I believe it in my mind, Sire," Trina says firmly. "I have faced him once, and now I know what I must do to defeat him. To prevail against an opponent, one must know not only his vulnerabilities, but one's own as well, because he will exploit them just as I would do with his. I know both of those things now, and I will not fail a second time."

"People of Elyssia, and lands beyond!" Magnus shouts to the crowd, which had grown restless but is now quiet as this new and thrilling event is to begin. "The contest of swords is decided, and Abdul Hai el-Anwar is the victor by rights! What you will now witness is a duel upon personal grounds, joined to settle a matter of honor between Abdul Hai el-Anwar and Lady Trina of Elyssia! The only rules shall be those of honorable combat... the victor shall be the one who does not yield, or the one who still lives when the duel is done!"

At this announcement, the crowd comes to life, their voices rising in a cacophony; it had not been made clear, until this moment, that this could be a duel to the ****. Such has been all-but unheard of since the first settlement of Elyssia, and has never taken place since you assumed the crown!

"The combatants have agreed to duel with true sharpened swords," Magnus continues. "There will be no circle to define the combat area, nor will the fight be stopped until it is done. May the righteous prove victorious!"

The crowd cheers, hesitantly at first, then with more enthusiasm as the combatants step forward and stop three paces apart, facing each other. You stand by Trina's side, taking the place of her squire who was still somewhat exhausted from running for her sword, and next to Abdul stands his squire.

You motion for Kuranoma Kuma to step forward, as he has accepted the responsibility of overseeing this far more serious matter; both sides have agreed that his honor is beyond reproach and that he will show no favoritism. He motions to his interpreter, who raises her head this time. "These are the words of the Great Samurai, Kuranoma Kuma-sama!" she says, clearly and more forcefully than she has spoken before. "You are here on a matter of honor. I am here to see that you settle it honorably. There will be no back-stabbing, you will not throw your blades, nor will you use weapons other than those agreed. If quarter should be asked, it shall be given by the will of the one who may offer it. If either wishes to withdraw, then speak now."

"I do not withdraw," Trina says.

"Nor shall I," Abdul replies.

"Then, so be it. Seconds will now step aside, and will not intervene unless the code of honor is broken. Warrior Adbul Hai el-Anwar, Lady Trina of Elyssia, make your peace now with what gods you hold in reverence."

Abdul turns to face southeastward, toward the lands of his home, and kneels down upon a small blanket which his squire hurriedly unrolls to receive him. Trina, on the other hand, reaches up behind her back and pulls at a leather strap; the plate armor about her shoulders, and her breastplate, separate and fall to the ground.

"Trina, what are you doing?" you can't help but ask; nor do you miss that she must have had this planned in advance, as armor would not normally come off so easily!

Abdul looks up at the crash of steel, and sees that Trina continues to discard her protective gear, until she stands there wearing nothing but a woolen tunic and simple trousers. "What... do you offer me this as tribute?" he asks, his eyes wary of some trick.

"I do not," Trina says. "I stand ready to fight you without armor, warrior."

"You are a madwoman!"

"But one of greater courage than yourself, I perceive," Trina replies. "Or, do you accept this challenge?"

"We did not agree to this!"

"I know well the Sultan Subhi El-Zamani, Abdul; and so, I would not have expected cowardice from a man of Al-Mansoura."

This last by Trina might not have had the desired effect, had not Subhi failed to hold back a single bark of bitter laughter. You see Abdul's face flush red beneath his beard, and he shouts for his squire. "Boy! Get this steel off me, now!"

"Know his weakness," Trina whispers to you softly.

"Just be sure to cover your own," you whisper back.

"Stand ready... Hajime!"

Strangely, even though the crowd had been quiet in the moment before the Saumrai signaled the start of the duel, it feels as though an even greater hush has fallen... the sound of the wind and the birds goes quiet, as nature itself appears to be watching and waiting.

It begins very differently than before; now that there is true danger of life and limb, the contestants are not so eager to rush at each other. Abdul has stripped to the waist, keeping only his billowing white trousers and his sandals which wide leather straps placed so closely as to make them more like boots. He keeps his turban fastened as well; you know from your friend Subhi that men from his lands may have hair several feet long, and so they must keep it wrapped, especially in combat. His bare chest is covered in a veriatable carpet of dark, curly hair; he is slim at the waist to the point of looking emaciated, but his muscles are well-defined and he is clearly a very strong man.

Trina has chosen to let her hair go free, without even tying it back in a simple ponytail. She has kept her woolen tunic on, and you know that when she prepares for combat she usually ties a band of linen about her breasts to keep them supported, so her feminine figure is not as prominent as it might have be otherwise. The two of them circle each other warily, keeping swords half-extended, each waiting for a moment to strike first or block when the other does.

It comes quickly - Abdul makes the opening move, dancing lightly forward and sweeping his blade downwards toward Trina's outstretched wrist. She parries it easily, as the strike does not seem to have been intended to make contact anyway, just to gauge her readiness. Abdul's second strike is likewise met with a straight block, but Trina's next parry is delivered with a twist which opens his guard. She is unable to attack before he skips away to the side, and again they circle each other.

Trina moves in on the attack next, stepping in with her sword extended in one hand, not in a full lunge but more defensively, to keep Abdul at bay. The tip moves in rapid back-and-forth slices as she approaches, and he deflects her sword but is unable to knock it aside as she keeps it pointed straight at him, and he cannot strike at the side of her blade without coming too close. In this manner she backs him up nearly twenty feet, well outside of where the dueling circle had been, until Abdul is **** to leap off to one side to retreat. He comes back at her almost immediately with a cutting motion, and she turns to him to parry the strike, the swords clashing loudly as they come together in full ****. A sweep across Trina's torso slices through her tunic, and a gasp rises from the crowd! but as they separate once again it seems to have cut only cloth and not flesh.

You have never witnessed a duel like this before, one without armor and where life itself is on the line. It is nothing like the rapid give-and-take of fencing seen in the other contests that day; each of them knows that a single false move will result not in a lost point, but in lost blood. The tension is far worse than you might have imagined, and it is not only the growing warmth of the afternoon which makes sweat bead on your forehead. You see no hint of fear or uncertainty in Trina's eyes, which is the only comfort you can draw from the situation.

Trina charges in suddenly and feints left; Abdul recovers just a moment too late, and the very tip of her sword rakes across his chest, from just above his heart to his shoulder before he can spin and swat the blade away. When they separate again, it takes a moment to see the thin red line appear on Abdul's dark skin; first blood has been drawn.

Subhi leans in close to you as the two duelists circle each other, waiting for the next opportune moment to strike. "It is not my place to end this, my friend," Subhi whispers, "I am your guest, and in this place you are the Sultan. But please know that if you chose to put a stop to this now, I would not think less of you or of Lady Trina - and I assure you, I will not allow Abdul to make good on his claim!"