Kairon regarded the young orc girl. He wanted to feign misunderstanding. He wanted to tell her to rescind her challenge. The hard stare she was giving him spoke volumes, however. This would not be avoided. There would be no hasty apology as she metaphorically picked the gauntlet back up. Her intelligent eyes told him of certainty. He had seen it so often in challengers before. By now he knew it would be foolish to question her.

　　"Weapons?" he asked when the crowd was at its quietest. His voice killed the chatter of the crowd.

　　Penelope finally lowered her hand, and Kairon guessed from the pause that she was trying not to look contemplative.

　　"Bare hands," she said finally.

　　Kairon considered her decision, traditional in its simplicity. Bare hands were how he won his first challenge.

　　"Very well," he called back. Looking at the sun, he did some mental math.

　　"We will meet in the circle in seven hours. I will make sure it is prepared. I hope you will do the same for yourself." With that, he turned back to the so-called flamebeast.

　　"Three hours," she said sternly, halting him.

　　The crowd ooh-ed. Kairon did not wince, but not for lack of empathy for the girl. Did she not realize she was throwing away her honor? She clearly did, but what did she seek to gain?

　　Being the one challenged, he could not disagree with her reasonable terms without appearing to be backing down. In order to prepare the circle for combat in time, however, he would have to personally watch over the clearing squad. Was she really ready, though?

　　"Three hours," he assented, and gestured to Justafar.

　　The orc looked at his lord, and then at this cowbird monster, and wondered why he almost felt like siding with the cowbird. He grunted with frustration and strode off to gather the needed personnel, though not without hard feelings over being dismissed.

　　With Justafar gone, Kairon asked Penelope, "How will you feel if you die without resolving your trial? Can you accept that fate without ever knowing?"

　　There was no malice. There was no intention to undermine her dedication by instilling doubt. There was only curiosity.

　　She came down the remaining steps to confront the orc lord. She strained against the urge to look at Chicken, captured and bound as he was. She managed to hold Kairon`s gaze.

　　"Send someone to gather my squire, Salander," she said, ignoring his questions, "I left him lounging on your throne. I`m headed to the circle."

　　Pivoting on her heel, she followed Justafar alone.

　　****

　　"The invincible orc?" Salander asked again. There was no bemusement this time. It was being drowned by the rising concern.

　　"You`re fighting bare-knuckled against the guy who has risen to power by being undefeated at just that?"

　　She took to wrapping her arms herself while her voluntold squire grappled with grief.

　　In the circle, a gaggle of lizardfolk were tearing down the now fortified podium. The tables and chairs were easily removed, and the ones who removed them were now inspecting the rope laying in the dirt that defined the circle and sweeping the ground clean.

　　Penelope didn`t bother saying yes again.

　　"You were supposed to win the legal battle. That was enough risk, and I thought we had built up good odds by now," he said, wagging a finger at her.

　　The wrappings tight on her hands and arms, she moved to do the same for her bare feet.

　　"We`re both going to die," Salander said again. Penelope paused to consider how each time he said it, it sounded more hopeless than the last.

　　"But you`ve got a plan," he said. She got up to test out the wrappings.

　　"You haven`t said that one yet," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "I was worried you had suffered brain damage."

　　He squinted up at her. "You do have a plan."

　　"No. I don`t."

　　"I don`t believe that for a second. I had you down as smart. I know you know he`s unbeatable, so I know you know something that changes the rules."

　　She shrugged. "I`m an orc. We don`t go in for plans."

　　She bent over and put an arm around his shoulder, pointing out Kairon who was overseeing the preparations.

　　"See him? The big one who looks like he`s made of metal?"

　　Salander preferred not to answer rhetorical questions.

　　"I`m going to lay him flat," she said, making a fist. "That`s my plan."

　　Salander crossed his arms. "I don`t like playing patsy, and I don`t like being kept in the dark."

　　She gave him a warm smile, concealing her own panic that she knew probably mirrored or dwarfed his.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

　　"But I know you still believe I`m an orc. That`s all I need you to think."

　　An official called for the two combatants.

　　"Think it as hard as you can," she said as she entered the ring.

　　Turning from Salander, Penelope was surprised to see Kairon already in position. He looked imposing, standing next to the official. He looked as prepared for a fight as when Penelope had challenged him. She wondered for a moment if the monochrome dark grey that covered him absorbed more of the heat than her own green skin.

　　"Both combatants have arrived," the official stated. He turned to Kairon. "Sire, are you ready?"

　　Kairon nodded, not taking his eyes from Penelope, nor his hands from behind his back.

　　The official turned to Penelope. "Are you ready?"

　　Penelope nodded similarly, fists clenched and by her sides.

　　"The fight will begin when I exit the ring and say ten," he announced, and smartly strode between them.

　　Penelope watched Kairon as he stood stock still while the official`s feet padded the distance to the edge.

　　"I don`t know what you are," she started saying in a hoarse whisper.

　　"But I know what you are. And you still challenged me," he said in a low voice, cutting her off.

　　The official`s footsteps stopped.

　　"Ten!"

　　Penelope`s eyes shot wide and she hopped back, fearing a first strike from Kairon. He remained stock still.

　　"This is a duel, you know," she goaded. Her heart racing, she tried to calm herself by casually circling him.

　　"I have witnessed one-hundred and seventy three such duels, including those to first blood, to exhaustion, and to the death. I have been party to fifty two of these."

　　When she was almost out of his view, he turned in place to face her again.

　　"Only fifty two?" she said in mock adoration, but thought, Is he concealing something behind him? The official never checked.

　　"I have won every one."

　　At the edge of his peripheral again, just before he was about to turn, she bolted to get all the way around him, spiraling to close on his back.

　　He turned with more gusto to face her, but she had seen nothing in his hands, and had stopped well short of his reach.

　　He let his arms hang at his side, ready to grab if she came closer.

　　"The key to victory, I find," he said slowly, "is patience."

　　Penelope backpedaled a few steps, staring suspiciously at him.

　　"Patience in an orc is rare," she said, returning to her circling. "I bet you really want to chase me."

　　For the first time since the start of the fight, he moved something other than his limbs. He shook his head.

　　"I have no desire to chase you. It would present you too much opportunity to gain an advantage."

　　"I bet it`s all an act. You want to see me bleed."

　　This time, he only shook his head.

　　"I bet your fists itch," Penelope continued, "You want violence." If she wanted to inflict anything on him, she would have to approach. She tried not to look at his large open hands.

　　"The opposite. I do not wish violence on anybody," he said amicably. "I admit I do not understand the desire you have to do violence on me."

　　Penelope reasoned from the speed of his turn to keep her in front of him, she best his reflexes. She waited for him to start turning before charging him.

　　She had anticipated a grab, and prepared to duck to get behind him. His hands found her anyway.

　　"But I will not permit it to occur." His hand gripped her forearm like a vice and Penelope let out a scream of pain.

　　He reached down and grabbed her leg. Squeezing again, he lifted her off the ground and threw her bodily away. She didn`t leave the ring, but she ended up prone and bruised laying halfway to the rope. She scrambled to her feet as he walked towards her.

　　"Do you surrender?" he asked as he came slowly closer.

　　****

　　Justafar watched on placidly as the cowbird faced off against his lord. First hand experience told him the monster had no chance. But his initial biases and common sense wavered before the display he had seen on the steps of the town hall.

　　And here she was, pitting herself against the impossible. He actually felt respect for her, which surprised him.

　　The fight was so enrapturing, he didn`t notice her squire had disappeared.

　　****

　　Penelope got her feet under her, but crouched against Kairon`s advance like a cornered animal. He stopped in response, fearing she may pounce erratically. She noted the theme of restraint in his actions.

　　Maintaining eye contact, she rose, slightly exaggerating the care for where he had grabbed her, and resumed the casual circling.

　　"You were quick to catch me," she said matter-of-factly, "but slow to follow up."

　　He only stood solemnly.

　　"Why?" she asked, right at the edge of his peripheral. A split second pause as he considered.

　　"To give you ample time to surrender."

　　"An odd strategy," she said more loudly, "hoping I would give in."

　　He had no defense for her accusation and merely turned to keep her in front of him.

　　"How many times have you tried it, holding back for the other to surrender?"

　　"Twelve."

　　As he considered her question, his eyes stopped tracking her, only resuming after giving the answer.

　　"How many times did it work?"

　　In the split second of his consideration, she rushed him, feinting a blow to his head but sweeping a kick to his knee.

　　His armor clanged at the impact of her heel, and she rebounded, reversing her spin to go for the punch again.

　　Not reacting to the kick to the knee, he caught her punch, which gave another clang. She followed through, barely slipping the vice grip.

　　Her knuckles felt cold and hot from the impact. Kairon shifted, and as she tried to disengage, she tripped over the leg she had meant to take out.

　　Again, she went sprawling.

　　Looking up at the sky, the grey-black behemoth over her shifted. He was going to come down on her chest.

　　With a yelp, she pushed herself to roll on her stomach, away from the dropping lord. His knee impacted the dirt where her sternum had been with the sound of a muffled temple bell.

　　She pulled her legs under her chest and managed to stand in one swift motion, but Kairon grabbed a loose braid of her hair and pulled her back down to the ground.

　　He was back on both feet, one raised in the air over her. She put up her guard as it came down on her, catching the stomp.

　　She screamed as the impact tested her back, arms, and lungs. She screamed as she heaved against the inexorable force of the cold, dark foot, echoing the strain on her muscles staving off the blow.

　　She twisted hard. Once. Twice. The leg felt immovable, like she was trying to hold up the world and tear it in half. He pulled back for another attempt at the stomp, seeking to undo her defenses and shatter them.

　　This time, she threw the foot away and rolled onto her chest between his legs. The foot found ground again with that same cast-iron thud. She crawled backwards and hopped up behind him. Giving him no time to react, she jumped on his back, clinging with legs around his chest, arms looping around his armored neck.

　　Her elbow found the barest of purchase under his chin as his hands scrambled in search of something vital of hers. She tried passionately to twist his head off, both of them grunting with effort.

　　He peeled one of her legs off his chest and, hand over hand, tugged on her calf, and then her thigh, pulling her steadily from behind him.

　　She slipped, his neck guard pinching the meat of her bicep, and he pulled her fully away. He held her for a beat, upside down by the leg, before in a spinning throw, hurling her across the ring for the second time. She hit the dirt and rolled.

　　She breathed in the dusty air as her senses returned from their brief vacation. The sky, she noticed, was bright and blue. The white hot sun burned a dark path in her swimming vision.

　　Kairon began to slowly approach. She thought she could feel the ground tremor under him.

　　"I will ask again," he said, sounding no worse for the wear, no hint of fatigue, "Do you surrender?"

　　She heard him, but hadn`t processed the thought. Something had briefly passed over the sun. A small black shape.

　　A piercing shriek split the air. Blue fire descended on the city. An angry, gold-scaled kobold had just informed the city that it had been freed.