The first to eleven is the winner.’
Essa attacked again. This attack was a mirror image of the previous one. This time she landed her stick on Araf’s left shoulder.
‘Well, it looks like Araf is going to lose this one,’ I said.
‘I don’t think so,’ Fergal said.
‘Why not?’
‘Because he never has.’
‘Never has what?’
‘He has never lost. Araf is the undefeated banta fighting champion of all of The Land.’
‘Well, at the moment,’ I said, ‘Essa looks pretty good.’
Fergal smiled. ‘Keep watching.’
Essa backed away and then launched into a new and bolder attack. She came at Araf and then leaped over his head! I once saw a deer on a country road jump over a tall fence-Essa had the same majestic poise. In mid-air she connected with two blows on the side of Araf’s helmet and landed behind him with two more points under her belt. The crowd applauded. Araf didn’t even turn around.
Essa walked around Araf and stood directly in front of him. She crouched down and looked into his eyes and smiled. There might have been a flicker of a smile from Araf in reply. With the big end of her stick she tapped Araf’s faceplate. The wire mesh glowed for a second. There was obviously some magic protecting the face. The entire audience shouted, ‘FIVE.’ She tapped again. ‘SIX,’ again, ‘SEVEN, EIGHT, NINE.’
On the blow that should have been ‘TEN’, Araf moved his head quickly to the left, Essa was thrown off balance and Araf poked his stick between her feet and tripped her. She went down fast. The audience booed but in good humour. Essa had been cocky-she had that coming. She rolled quickly to her feet. Araf slowly stood.
Now things were getting interesting. The crowd was buzzing. Essa backed away and the partygoers gave them room. A giant people-edged arena formed, with everyone watching. Essa backed into the middle of the room and retook her defensive posture. Araf walked towards her and stopped two stick-lengths away and bowed. Even though the score was nine-to-five, he was indicating that now, the duel had truly begun. Essa nodded in reply.
Araf took a stance. Not the graceful Tai Chi-like posture of Essa, but a flat-footed straight-on stance. He held his banta across his chest with both hands, like the staff fights in old Robin Hood movies. This was a battle between style and brawn.
Essa mounted a twirling attack to the head. Araf parried it and brought the bottom end of his stick up for a counter-attack. Essa spun and dodged it-just. The two of them were feeling each other out. Essa tried a lower attack but this failed. Araf’s parry was so strong that she momentarily lost her balance, allowing Araf to get her with a counterblow to her side that made me wince.
‘SIX,’ came a cry from the crowd.
The combatants stared at each other for a minute and then Araf initiated his first offensive attack. For a big guy, he moved fast. There was no twirling or pirouettes, just a direct attack-wide, quick, sweeping blows from alternating sides. Essa had no difficulty with the speed but she didn’t have the strength to block the blows without a step backwards. She gave ground with every parry and was running out of room. I expected her to start swinging around in a circle but she continued straight back, each block pushing her closer into a corner. Just when I thought it was all over for her, she bent her knees and dived, head first over Araf’s head! With the poise of an Olympic high diver, she jumped Araf’s banta stick and then planted her own stick on top of Araf’s shoulder, pole-vaulting and somersaulting behind him.
The crowd went wild. ‘TEN,’ they screamed in unison.
Six to ten-if Essa could land one more blow, she would win. I heard someone yell, ‘Who is the student and who is the master now?’
So that was it, Essa had studied under Araf. This was a student-teacher grudge match. The light-heartedness that marked the beginning of the duel was gone. Araf clumped into his stance-Essa flowed into hers. We waited to see who would initiate the next attack. The only sound was Essa’s breathing.
Araf broke the calm. With an unexpected twirl of his banta stick he came at Essa with a series of angled- down swings that blurred into a continuous figure of eight. It looked as if Essa had just stepped in front of a taxiing airplane. I could see in her eyes that the master had not taught the student everything. Initially she didn’t even try to parry. She backed away, attempting to decipher the rhythm of the attack. Before she ran out of space, she experimented with parries that succeeded in slowing down the attack-but only a bit. For a second time she tried her flipping pole-vaulting manoeuvre-she should never have attempted it twice. Araf dodged her stick, turned and made contact with her calf in mid-air. She landed on one foot, not enough to keep her balance. She hit the floor skidding. The only thing hurt was her pride. A five-point knockdown-she had lost.
Araf helped her to her feet, then stood in front of her and formally bowed-Essa hit him over the head with her stick. The crowd erupted in laughter. The fighters took off their masks and Essa planted a huge kiss on Araf’s cheek. For the second time today I wished I was an Imp.
Essa hung on Araf’s arm as they returned. Fergal added his slap to all of the others that Araf had received on his back as he travelled through the crowd.
‘Thank you for upholding the honour of the House of Ur,’ Fergal slurred. He was past tipsy and well nigh on to very drunk.
‘That was very impressive,’ I said to Essa.
‘I would have been more impressive if I had won.’
‘I was rooting for you.’
She smiled. It was very nice.
‘You should have a fight, Conor,’ Fergal said as he stumbled into me. ‘You would kick ass around here with that snap spell you are wearing.’
‘You are wearing a snap spell?’ someone said behind me.
I turned to answer when out of the corner of my eye I saw Fergal grab Essa’s banta stick.
‘It’s an amazing spell-watch this!’ he said as he swung. I remember the look of surprise on everyone’s faces as the stick hit my skull. Then everything went black.
The first thing I remember thinking as I came to was, Is this my third concussion this week or my fourth? In my whole life, I had never even been dizzy-now it seemed I couldn’t go a day without being knocked cold. I was disappointed that you don’t actually see stars and tweeting birds, like in cartoons, but I can assure you that you get great big bumps.
I felt a cold compress being applied to my forehead, and when I opened my eyes I saw that my nurse was Essa.
‘I’ve died, haven’t I?’ I said.
‘I don’t think so.’ She looked worried.
‘No, I must be dead because you’re an angel.’ OK, it was a bit corny but I was quite proud of coming up with a line that good so soon after multiple concussions.
‘I think you must be feeling better,’ she said, and took the cold compress off my forehead.
I sat up. I had a pain in my head that I hadn’t experienced since my last blow to the head-earlier that day I think. I winced.
‘You wouldn’t have any of that willow tea around, would you?’
‘Here, drink this.’ She handed me a tiny glass with no more than two thimblefuls of brown liquid.
‘Is that all I get?’
‘Believe me, that is all you need. It’s my father’s special tonic. It will make you feel better.’
I downed it in one. Had I been facing a mirror, I would have seen steam shooting out of my ears. I sat bolt upright in bed and croaked, ‘WOW!’
Essa laughed. ‘You’ll be better now,’ and stood to go.
I was instantly better but I didn’t want to let her go. I grabbed the wet cloth and put it in her hand. ‘Don’t go, I think I’m going to faint,’ I said, trying to look as ill as I could and lying back down on the bed.
‘What makes me think that you are not being sincere?’ She smiled.
‘Oh, the pain!’ I said and I pulled her hand, to make her place the cloth on my forehead. She lost her balance and pretty much fell on top of me. She laughed a little bit and didn’t immediately get up. Her face was only inches away, her lips were so close I could feel her breath. I stared straight into her eyes, those magnificent dark eyes and
