Blood was everywhere. Though as far as he could tell, and to his great disappointment, no serious wounds had been made. But this was to be it. His last chance to finish the task at hand.

It had begun as a simple sparring round. Winterberry had actually challenged him, goaded him, claiming that he had noticed Garrick's strikes were becoming rather unsteady. It was a test, he realized soon enough.

He had been the first to strike a true blow and his haughty smile had likely given his true intentions away. Justin had doubled his efforts, showing a great amount of power and grace in his sword. But where the boy had power and natural skill, Garrick had experience and a deep desire to defeat his opponent once and for all. And so the two were locked, in a battle to the death.

There was no mistaking the fact that they had drawn an audience. The other men stood in a ring around them, chanting and crying out in a mixture of anger and pride. Each time one of them drew blood, their voices would rise all the higher.

"What's the meaning of this?"

Neither of the men gave notice to Benjamin's booming voice, although there was a slight pause in Justin's parry as McKinnon descended upon the group, screaming over the men and demanding that they disperse. It was only a glimpse, but Garrick had seen it. The chink in his adversary's armor.

"Garrick! Winterberry! I demand you cease and desist! IMMEDIATELY!"

And there it was. His chance. Justin paused noticably and Garrick no longer had anything to lose. He let out a blood-curdling scream and lunged forward.

***

It only took an instant for Brian to realize that something was dreadfully wrong. The men were louder, yet the training feild was nearly deserted. He spotted a crowd gathered near one of the smaller sparring arenas and motioned for Benjamin to go ahead of him.

When the two of them had finally made their way through the dense throng, Brian was taken aback at the sight before him.

Garrick, a possessed look on his face, was crouched low, looking ready to strike. Looking angry. Evil. Bloodthirsty.

His one thought was of Justin's safety. The younger man's clothing was stained with small patches of crimson. His shirt had been sliced open from shoulder to shoulder and he marveled at the skill it must have taken to avoid the blade in that particular struggle. He watched for a moment more, seeing that the boy was definitely holding his own.

But the crazed look was still in Garrick's eyes. And skill or no skill, it was difficult to defeat a man that had insanity as his driving force.

His problem came in the form of his own decrees. This was, for all intents and purposes, a staged duel. Staged fights were to be structured, yet it was in the hands of the participants as to how far a joust would be taken. If it were to be to the death, then no force could stop them. And no one made a move to.

Finally, refusing to question his own reasons, Brian's resolve broke. "Garrick! Winterberry! I demand you cease and desist!" Neither man payed him any mind. "IMMEDIATELY!" he added, ready to jump into the brawl, should they continue to ignore him.

And then it happened.

Garrick let out wail, something akin to a banshee's, and darted forward. And Brian turned his head away, flinching at the sound of the blow, unable to watch the brilliant light be taken from the blue-eyed boy.

From his lover.

***

The training had been rather lackadaisical throughout the morning and Justin had taken the opportunity to watch Garrick. He wasn't sure, but he had thought the man was watching him as well, which made him anxious. If Garrick figured out that he had been keeping an eye on him, it would force his hand. Something Justin wanted to avoid until absolutely necessary.

So he had gone to the man. Hoping that it would appear that his attentions had merely been on the man's sword. "Garrick! Richard! Break for a moment."

Richard nodded and backed away from Garrick. Never turning his back on the man. Never actually dropping his guard. They had all seemingly learned that lesson from Edward's mishap.

Of course...they didn't know that the man's true target had never been in them. Or Edward. Justin had no question that he had been the intended target. It was the reasoning and the timing that worried him to no end.

"Garrick," he began tentatively, "I was watching you just now and I had noticed that your footwork in excellent."

Begrudgingly, the man acknowledged the comment and nodded. "However," Justin saw him tense and he crossed his own arms so that his right hand would be within reach of his sword, should there be a need for a hasty defense. "I had noticed that your strikes are a bit unsteady. I suggest you work to improve this."

Garrick glared at him and Justin had to make himself lift his head further. He'd be damned if the old man intimidated him. He'd been up against worse.

"I'll show you unsteady," the man had muttered under his breath as Justin had moved to go.

Justin turned back sharply and arched a questioning eyebrow. "What was that?"

"I uh...would you show me what you mean?" He held his sword up in readiness and Justin drew his own from its sheath. As soon as the blade was in the air, Garrick began swinging.

It took him but a moment to realize that this was to be it. The gleam in the hard as stone eyes of the other man told him that it was now or never. He had backed the man into a corner and he was about to come out fighting.

The first blow came as Justin had begun to counter. His arm had raised and Garrick's sword had slipped underneath to his side. He had felt a small jolt of pain from the hit, yet he shrugged it off and came back into the fray with his emotions stripped. Emotions didn't survive in a fight of such magnitude. Emotions would only weaken you.

The second blow had fallen across his leg. His footwork had been perfect. He had kept himself just out of harm's way. But as he had mentioned, Garrick's footwork was a slight bit better and he had lunged forward just enough to reach Justin's thigh. A lesser man might have fallen under such a wound, but Justin pressed on, knowing that backing down would surely mean death.

The third blow was calculated. Garrick had gone for the jugular. The tip of the sword had flashed in the sunlight and Justin blinked, realizing that he would never be able to block the angle at which Garrick was striking. Instead of raising his sword to block, he sprang backwards with the agility his youth afforded him and moved his sword up and behind Garricks. The move had effectively pushed the other man's sword into the earth.

Justin then landed a few well-placed counter strikes. In the end, they were both covered from head to toe in some light scratches and also a few deeper abrasions. And he had relished the fact that Garrick was looking a bit peeked. He could almost smell victory, even if it would be a hollow one. But he could not think beyond ending the fight the only way it could end. In total destruction.

All along, he had been aware of the men that surrounded them. They had pinned the two in as if they were cocks, fighting to the death. And in that, it did seem fitting. But the men were but an afterthought. They were a blur in the background of his vision. Their voices nothing more than the buzz of a fly's wings. Yet one voice...one singular voice had broken through his concentration.

"Garrick! Winterberry! I demand you cease and desist! IMMEDIATELY!"

Justin had fought with everything he had, NOT to react to the command. Not to back away from the fight. He had started it and he would end it. Yet...his mind momentarily strayed to Brian. To what might happen, should Garrick die. Would Brian think him no better than his father before him?

And in the end, Justin wasn't sure what might have happened. What he might have done, if the choice had not been taken from him.

All at once, a scream pierced his ears as well as his thoughts and he froze. Garrick was lunging. The sword, pointed directly at his heart.

Justin closed his eyes, shook his head and blindly stepped to one side. He felt the man's shoulder land squarely in his chest. In a split second decision, Justin put an arm over the man's shoulders, at the top of his back and brought his knee up to connect with his groin.

Seeing Garrick sprawled out upon the ground, out cold from the pain, Justin felt a sense of relief. Relief that quickly faded into pain - more in his heart than his body. He looked to Brian who had turned away from the fight. The man was obviously disappointed. Perhaps even angry. And it was with that image of his lover, that Justin slumped to the ground and slipped into dark oblivion.

To Be Continued...