Mercy
Pepe had not handled a sword for many a long year, preferring to fight with pen or words, his inexperience a distinct disadvantage yet he was not prepared to give up without a fight and take the cowards way out. His hope lay in the fact that Kane was still injured and he had this insane plan of action, which involved relentlessly hacking and chopping at his opponent in the lingering hope he could score a winning hit.
It was uncomfortable to watch, but Pepe persisted, raining down countless blows, without giving Kane the chance to raise his sword to attack, he even scored a clumsy strike, the crosspiece of his sword catching Kane above his eye, splitting an old injury, drawing first blood.
Kane simply kept on the defensive, allowing several wide open killing shots to slip by, almost toying with Pepe, were it not for the hammering assault, had he two blades the fight would have been over within the first opening moves. However he waited Pepe out, there was only so long he could continue with this course of action before his arms tired, his shoulders screaming with effort and he could no longer raise the blade to attack.
Panting, wiping sweat from his chin Pepe realised at that moment Kane was just waiting him out. Kane paused only to clear blood from his eye then spun low raising one leg high to kick Pepe in the side of the head, sending him reeling backwards, landing heavily the air blasted from his lungs, sword flying from his grasp.
Before he could recover, Kane had the point of his blade to Pepe’s throat…
“Mercy!” Pepe cried out in desperation.
“I will show you mercy.” Kane spoke calmly, not even out of breath. “I will show you more mercy than you ever showed me.”
He leaned on the blade, the sharp point easily penetrating the soft flesh. Pepe bucked, gurgled, blood flowing quickly, freely, pooling around his head, the thick blade near severing his head. Pepe spluttered and ceased his desperate thrashing as the sword was buried right through his neck…
***
“That possibly was more mercy than he deserved.” Grave retrieved his sword from the corpse, but Kane said nothing. He wondered how many lives he had taken on the battlefield. He recalled killing The Guardian, the man had been beaten to the point of death and his colleagues would have continued had he not shown mercy and broke his neck.
“That wasn’t mercy, that was a relief.” Kane sighed…
“Is he dead?” A soft voice inquired, soft footsteps approached the scene, soft hands circled around Kane. He held his breath, not daring to turn, yet he could not resist beyond an instant and turned to take Alleia into his arms, holding her, holding their babe securely in his arms…
Anne Harrison 06.04.17
Tatterhood 