The Duel ~*Part One*~

One could say that the night was relatively bright and warm. The moon was full and there was the slightest cloud cover trapping some of the warmth which had collected over the day. yet for the benefit of casting the right mood of this tale, I shall say the night wad dark, and bitterly cold...

***

"Are you sure you wish to proceed," Marcel said as he got down from his horse and went to help his friend.

"I can get myself down," Eustace snapped. "you are my friend, not my servant. And yes, I am sure I wish to go on."

Marcel shook his head and sighed. "But why? Why do you not forgive the man and not run the risk of a bullet through you heart?"

"Did not you ever read stories as a child," Eustace cried, "from them you learn good always wins, always prevails, even if it is form luck.

'I have read such stories,' Marcel though, 'but who is fighting for good in this one, and who is fighting for evil?'

Silently they waited for Eustace's opponent to arrive. Eustace, of late a nervous man, paced, his fist clenched and his breath heavy. His eye darted looking for that face they knew far too well. A face where the cheekbones protruded from a sick yellow face and staring out from sunken sockets were orbs of obsidian. The eyes seemed to reflect the evil state of the soul which belonged to the man cursed with such a hideous face. The man was known as Cadmus.

But is was not by sight Eustace first noticed Cadmus.

"Hello Eustace," slithered the thick oily voice.

Eustace abruptly stopped his frantic pacing. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as a chill went down his spine. A well timed breeze blew, rustling the leaves on the trees which surrounded them. From behind one of these trees, Cadmus stepped out.

As always, Cadmus's eyes were blood shot and he had two ragged scraps on his left cheek. never did they heal, they were always open, and oozing clear fluid and blood. His cloths were nice, but worn in a disorderly fashion. He always looked as if he just got in a fight.

As he came closer, Cadmus smiled his alluring smile. The one that encouraged Eustace to do wicked things. The smile Cadmus always used when whispering evil thought into Eustace's mind. Go to the blond girl, your wife will never know. One more trip to the opium den won't make that large of a difference. Take the money, you need it more than the man who worked for it.

"Marcel, you brought the pistols?" Eustace said, sharply turning away from the sight of his personal serpent.

Out of one of the saddle bags, Marcel provided a unadorned wooden box. Eustace reached out for it eagerly. "Give it to me!" he demanded sharply.

Marcel held the box close. "Eustace as a colleague I advise you not to go through with this. Absolute nothing good can come from this."

"Nonsense," Eustace said, his hand inching towards the box.

"As a friend I beg you to not proceed," Marcel continued, more passion in his voice. "You have done terrible things, Eustace, and that man has led you to them all. Do not give this man the satisfaction of blood on your hands."

Eustace tore the box from Marcel's hands. When he spoke again his voice held they warning of a hiss that a snake makes before he strikes. "That man has never done anything but tempt me to do wickedness. The only being who spends all his time causing others to sin is the devil. He belongs in hell, and that is where I plan to send him tonight."

"What if you loose?" Marcel cried, pleading, grasping at straws, anything to stop the sin of his friend.

"I will be sure I won't," Eustace said flatly. He held the box reverently in his hands as he sharply walked away. He walked in a slow steady march until he reached Cadmus. Eustace opened the box, and displayed the contents to the villain.

Cadmus reached inside the box and took out one of the guns. "These are nice," Cadmus said, rolling the words on his tongue. "Tell me, where did you get them?"

"That is no business of yours," Eustace said.

"Genuine dueling pistols," Cadmus commented as he loaded the gun. "I have only seen a few sets actually used. Most of the time men have them simply for show. Have you used these before?"

"No," Eustace answered. "you are the first."

"But not the last," Cadmus chuckled. His eyes drifted around lazily. "I couldn't help but over hear you and your friend talk," he said as Eustace gave him the box.

Eustace loaded his own pistol, ignoring the talk of his foe.

Cadmus leisurely threw one arm over Eustace shoulders. "He is going to try to stop you again," Cadmus whispered coolly. "You know how tight his scruples are. Perhaps you should stop him before he has a chance to stop you."

Eustace stared at the pistol in his hand. "What do you mean?"

"Can you not see what is right before you!" Cadmus cried, drawing Eustace close. "The reason I have such a hold on you is because I simply tell you your desires. I is the man whom you call a friend that you war against. He is always telling you what is right and wrong. Who is he to say what is wrong and right for you?" You see, it is not I who is your foe," Cadmus pointed at Marcel, who stood several feet away, "but him whom you should duel. "

Eustace looked up at Marcel. At the sight of his closest friend, his anger flared. He felt ever word which Cadmus had spoken to be absolute truth.

"These pistols only hold on bullet," Cadmus hissed into the ear of Eustace, "Why waste it on me?"

Eustace looked down at the pistol in his hand. He held it tightly. H raised the gun and aimed it at Marcel. He had such a compulsion to pull the trigger and let the bullet rear through the flesh of his 'friend.' He saw it all so clearly now. His finger brushed past the trigger, lying there, waiting.

Eustace took a deep breath and with a trembling hand lowered his gun.

"No," he said with a shuddering voice as he realized what he had nearly done. "I have come here for you."

Cadmus clicked his tongue against his teeth and jerked away from Eustace. "Very well then. " He stood facing away from Eustace. "Will you friend be the mediator?"

"No," Eustace said. "I barely got him to come. He wishes to have no part in this.

"Ten paces I assume then?"

Eustace faced back to back to Cadmus, the other mans shoulder blades brushing against his own.

"yes," Eustace answered, swallowing a lump which had suddenly formed in his throat.

"One..." Cadmus said, taking a casual step.

Eustace echoed him as he stretched one shaking leg in front of him. His knees trembled, threatening to fall under his weight.

"...two..." Cadmus said, a smile in his voice. "...three..."

Marcel's words and pleas ran through the mind of Eustace. As your college, as your friend, I beg of you...

"...four..." came the insistent counting of Cadmus.

Eustace could no longer see. His vision blurred till every shape and color ran together. Still, he put one foot in front of the other, feeling his way along.

"...five, six..."

What if you loose?! Marcel's question ran in Eustace's ears, and he heard his own mocking voice reply, I will be sure I won't.

"...seven..."

His heart thudded loudly. His breath came in short gasps.

"...eight..."

In a single motion Eustace whipped around and fired his pistol. The sound that issued from the gun flew madly in all directions, then was swallowed by the night. The figure of Cadmus froze in mid stride, and then crumpled.