Setting combat circle was a custom frequent in clans. It was a common thing after all in this far land. This system was mostly used to settle feud and arguments. It could be to the death or not.

The three warriors sharing the circle with me, began their tactical move menacingly.
Aye...this very one was to the death.

"King Gurtive," Rina spoke to the old King from the rear. "This is not part of the bargain. My man is a decorated warrior. If he suffers any harm my father would be truly displeased."
If the old King heard a word that she said, he didn't give an affirming response.
I was on my own.

Whoosh. The first man beginning the assault, his blade swept pass my face. The other man with axe swirled the death piece severally, before stretching it out. It jammed on my Kris, and I did draw back from the impact. I put my shield hastily to repel the third mans blow. I was slow. His leg pounded into my groins forcing me down... for the fourth time.

The laughter and cheers amused the warriors. They were practiced men. They were on me as a fluid. But I had figured a flaw.
This fight wouldn't take long. I frowned, then smirked. Confused by my demeanor, they charged again.

Fighting many minutes with these warriors had its pay. I had now to heart their opening gambit. The two edge fighters striking from the wing -- more as a distraction. And then the center man with a vortex.

They started the move just as I anticipated. I stopped the procession with a dash to the patiently waiting middle man. He affirmed my attack with confusion. In time he raised his weapon rightly in a defensive stance. He was rather late.

I advanced with a triple attack -- two swings up, and the last blow to his vulnerable knee. With a shriek of pain he dropped to the ground, while his allies proceeded.

I pivoted swiftly, then ducked beneath the first attackers hit. I didn't give time to breath...my Kris arched to the mans armpit.

Paralyzed on his fighting arm, his weapon dropped with a dull clink to the sand. I dug my foot into him forcing him down, as I braced for the last man standing.

Swirling the axe in hand expertly, the last of the men kindled a whirling force and began an extremely fierce attack. My Kris stood in place to repel the blow. It wasn't enough...my hand darted for my Poniard to strengthen my defense. His hard blow came again.

I shifted back from the force with a wince. He smirked darkly, setting the swirl for another advancement. I hurled my Poniard with deadly precision. He flogged it away as easily as whipping a fleck of sweat. But he gave me grounds.

I pushed at him. I slashed twice, then my thrust came. The man was a keen wielder of the axe, but the weight in his arm made his reflexes slow.

Close enough now, I caught his hand before he could contemplate an attack. My blade shot out. A hit to his wielding arm, and then finally I staked my Kris in his thigh.

The man fell with a loud cry.

"This fight doesn't need to end with death," I faced the dumbfounded audience. "Besides," I turned from them to the last man. His cry was deep. His eyes were filled with fear as I approached. "...its a beautiful day after all." I caught the hilt of my weapon and pulled it out from his flesh.

A thunder of wail boomed as I faced my judge. My chest heaved as I waited the verdict. Rina's eyes were still filled with worry. The old King's eyes danced from his defeated warriors, to my standing frame -- strong and agile.

"The fight is over," he nodded shamefully. "The gods know we haven't been fair to our visitors and they wrought us this shame as reward. We are lucky he is a merciful one." The king spoke.

I laughed within myself at the King's word. The gods had nothing to do with my victory. The warriors were junior to me in technique, and even if the gods wished it, they couldn't defeat me.  

Rina smiled with satisfaction as I fought my way out of the circle.

"Tell me warrior," King Gurtive approached with his men. "Who might you be?" His eyes were filled with concern.

"Dorack," I puffed out my chest. "Dorack son of Dun."

"I have never seen a man fight with such grace. I shall never forger that name." He held my forearm. I bowed in honor.

Commander Darka who was with the King, bowed softly -- he and his men. I nodded to them.

"Come now," The King began again. "We haven't been good guests. A tent and a pleasing meal would be made for you at once." He clasped his  hand around my arm and pulled me along.

As we moved out the grounds, aid came for the three defeated warriors.
                                  
                                     ¶¶¶
We were brought to our tent shortly after. It was a descent one. It held no lavishness, yet it was adequate. A stove in the room, was to maintain the warm temperature.

I crashed on the soft bed without a word. Rina joined me shortly after. She was silent. While I panted in exhaustion, her eyes trailed my being.

I opened my eyes suddenly. She tensed. I smiled, and then pulled her to myself. Her chest placed on my large frame, I could feel her uncultured beating heart.

"Relax," I smiled to her. She obeyed with a deep inhale.

"I was scared. I was scared you will loose,  and then..."

"Die?" I completed the word with a smile. "You think little of me, little wolf." I grinned. She smiled.

A call was heard outside the tent. She straightened up, and bellowed to the visitor to step in.

The maids bearing out little feast strode in gracefully. Mix of sweet aroma filled the room. I charged up as they lay them all down. I came closer to the meal with devious intent. The maids bowed and exited the room.

Rina smiled as I pounded into the food. She wasn't like me -- she was ethical and careful with the meal.
I smiled at her ways. I heard knowledge of both being savage and ethical. But haven escaped the jaws of death, I preferred my savage self took reins.

"You still haven't given me an answer," Her voice sent a strange silence through the room.

I dropped down the meal slowly. My eyes wouldn't even raise up to her's.
"Rina,"

"Dorack," her voiced paused me. "What do you want?"

Her question was strange. But I  realised I hadn't asked myself that in a long time. What did I really want?

The words poured out without a thought.
"To be happy." I looked at her eyes.

"Then why wouldn't you join me."

"Am not sure," I sighed. "Am not sure I would yet be happy."

"Of course," her tone changed with a sting. "Unless you claim the head of Dakor."

"Its not about killing him. I made an oath. Its about fulfilling the promise."

Once the silence in her end remained unbroken I pressed on.

"I had paid the ultimate price for my loves hand. Victory on the sands amid a dozen champions -- the unending night. But Dakor rose from the curse of that night. He plagued my peace until he had finally brought the curse on me. He killed my unborn child, with its mother...my Kieya."
Her eyes sparked with confusion at the name I mentioned.

"Princess Kieya?" Her puzzled eyes were wide.
I nodded in affirmation as I took the first sip of wine. Strange drink. 

She put her hand on her mouth with unbelieve. Her disposition told me she knew of the tale of the Sleeping Princess.

"Dakor took everything from me. My fame, my power, my riches, my peace, my family," I frowned. "His death wouldn't bring them all. But it would suffice this torture that cracks my heart each day." I took another deep gulp of the drink.

"Am so sorry." A stray tear flowed down. She wasn't hesitant. In a moment she was next to me. Arms wrapped around my neck...it was only then I knew how much I needed this embrace.

The pain pulsed through my being. Her warmth soothed the ache I felt in heart. My sight was dizzying. She pulled me to the bed.

My head crashed on her laps. Her touch on my hair was doing the miracle. The dizzying increased. My strength was sipping away. Her charm was at last purging my curse. I felt peace.

Slow. Her methodic hands were at their duty. "Rina," I whispered. Her hands brushed my lips softly to silence. I didn't fight her ways. This physician knew it all -- all to my problem -- my worries and frustration.

The dizzying deepened. My sight went from blur to shade, fading as a dying petal. At last, the unconsciousness swallowed me.