John Lenahan - Prince of Hazel and Oak

I took another swipe at her banta but this time when she attempted her counter-attack I stepped in and took a full power cut at her weapon. My sword made hard contact with the top of her stick. If I had been using the Lawnmower I would have sliced that bit clean off – this dulled thing stuck halfway into the wood. As Essa pulled back I felt the tug and quickly twisted my pommel. I heard the crack as about ten inches of her stick spun inpe air.

Essa backed and circled. The same voice from the crowd called out, ‘Not to worry, Princess.’ As Essa inspected her weapon I stole a quick glance to see who the cheerleader was. It was the Banshee she had been sparring with earlier.

While she was readjusting to the new length of her stick, I moved in a step and began my trademarked low sword attack. That’s where I keep my blade low and then swipe upward using my natural agility to bob and weave my head out of the way. I should note that every fighting teacher has told me that this is a very bad idea but it usually unnerves an opponent the first time they see it and I’m pretty sure I never did it when Essa was around. It worked too. She backed up fast but before she ran out of room, she took a full baseball swing to my head that made me hit the ground with a roll.

‘Hey,’ I shouted as I jumped back to my feet, ‘you promised not to hit me in the head.’

‘If you’re just going to hang your face out there, I can’t resist taking a pop at it.’

‘Good one, Essa,’ the Banshee shouted.

The crowd was getting pretty worked up and from the sounds of it, I wasn’t the hometown team. It’s dangerous when emotions creep into a practice fight and at that moment I wanted to kill the girl of my dreams. From the look in her eyes my love wanted to do the same thing. I should have called it off right then and there – instead I modified my attack. While protecting my face, I succeeded in backing Essa into her cheering section. Just as she was about to run out of room – she did it. I knew she would. I knew she couldn’t resist showing off for her pupils. She launched herself straight up and over my head and attempted to grind her banta into my shoulder as she pole-vaulted over me – but I was ready for it. When she was directly over my head, I dropped to the ground. Her stick made contact with nothing but air. The self-satisfied smile on her face vanished as she realised she didn’t have enough leverage to complete her somersault. She instantly went from a graceful gymnast to a flailing circus clown and landed hard on her back.

I stood up and turned to the silenced audience. ‘I know some of my opponent’s favourite attacks too.’ My line didn’t do as well as when Essa used it. I think it was safe to say they didn’t like me too much.

After rolling over onto all fours and taking a few quick breaths Essa stood and the look on her face made me realise I had gone too far. I lowered my sword and was about to call a stop when that damn Banshee shouted, ‘You’re not going to let him get away with that are you, Princess?’

Essa dropped right back into fighting mode and came at me with a series of short fast swings that got me back-pedalling. I didn’t want this fight any more. I didn’t mean to humiliate her in front of her students. I just wanted to sit with her and ask her how she was and tell her how much I had missed her but that stick just kept on coming. One swipe came so close to my nose I smelled the sap in the timber. I finally parried a cut hard and my sword once again stuck into the wood. As she tried to pull it free I stepped in. She was forced close. I don’t think I had ever seen her this mad before – and I had seen Essa plenty mad.

‘Come on, Princess – you can take this Faerie.’

‘Who, I asked Essa, her face inches from mine, ‘is the Banshee with the big mouth?’

Essa grunted and with all of her strength threw me back, disengaging our weapons. ‘That,’ she said, while assuming a very menacing crouch, ‘would be my fiance.’

‘What?’ I stood straight up and dropped my guard. I looked directly into her eyes to see if she was serious. That’s probably why I didn’t spot the stick before it connected with my head.

In movies people wake up from a concussion and then feel their head like the pain comes as a surprise. That’s not how it works. The pain comes way before you open your eyes and if you have had as much experience with involuntary unconsciousness as I have, you delay opening them for as long as possible, ’cause that’s when the second wave of hurt arrives.

So as I lay there the first thing I noticed was the pain. Then I worked on the basics: who was I? – Conor O’Neil. Good, if you don’t know that one you’re in trouble. Where was I? – Scranton? No – Tir na Nog. How did I end up out cold and flat on my back? Essa. Essa hit me – she said she wouldn’t but she did. I had been looking for Essa. Where did I find her? The Hazellands. And she wasn’t as happy to see me as I thought she would be. In fact she seemed downright mad at me.

I felt a cold compress land on my forehead. The blessed cold ratcheted the pain level down a couple of notches.

Well, she couldn’t be that mad at me, I thought, if she was willing to nurse me. She must be feeling bad for hitting me in the head.

I reached up and placed my hand on hers. So why did she hit me? It was an accident – I had dropped my guard. Why did I do that?

I shot straight up in bed and shouted, ‘You’re engaged!’

‘No I am not,’ said the startled and still blurry face in front of me.

The aforementioned second wave of pain hit me like a well-swung mace. I closed my eyes and lay back down. The pain was lessened only by the revelation that Essa wasn’t engaged. I squeezed her hand and she returned the gesture. This time I slowly opened my eyes but as the world became less fuzzy Essa got increasingly uglier. When I came properly to my senses I found myself holding hands with Araf.

‘Who told you I was engaged?’ the Imp demanded.

I quickly retrieved my hand. ‘Essa?’ I croaked.

‘Essa told you I was engaged?’

‘No, Essa is engaged,’ I said.

‘I know Essa is engaged but why is she going around telling people I am engaged? I’m a Prince of Ur. A rumour like that can cause a lot of trouble.’

My head hurt too much for this kind of confusion. ‘No one said you were engaged.’

‘You said I was engaged.’

‘I didn’t mean you, I thought you were Essa.’

‘You think I look like Essa?’ Araf looked concerned. ‘I’ll go get a healer.’

I dropped my head back on the pillow and covered my eyes. ‘Maybe you should get a healer – I need something for my head.’

‘There is something on your bedside table there.’

I sat up and knocked back the thimbleful of liquid from a silver shot-glass. I’m sure my face went as red as the inside of a thermometer and, as it returned to normal colour, my headache subsided. When I could breathe again I said, ‘You knew that Essa was engaged?’

‘Well yes, everyone knows that. Gerard announced it about three weeks ago. He sent all of the Runelords a cask of special wine – it was a lovely red. The bouquet had the slightest hint of-’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ I interrupted.

‘You didn’t ask. I assumed, since you left, that you had no interest in Essa.’

‘Well, you assumed wrong,’ I said, as I slowly sat up and put my feet on the floor.

‘But wasn’t Essa interested in you by the end of your last visit?’

‘She was.’

‘And you left her?’

‘Yes,’ I said, feeling the pain in my head starting to return.

‘That is not a good thing,’ the Imp said in an ominous tone.