The Duel

The sun dawns on the beautiful city-centre of Milan. It is a cold sixteenth of February.

In one of the beautiful plazas that the Milanese are known for, two men face each other, their silhouettes long and dark on the cold stone floor.

The two men bow stiffly. They turn and separate. Ten steps.

The contestants' seconds watch coldly from far away as they pivot, face each other, unsheathe their swords.

The count begins.

"Tre!" shouts the Milanese observer.

"Due!"

The two men stare icily at each other.

"Uno!"

A second left.

"Inizino!" he shouts.

Alfonso, Count of Barcelona, and Bertrand de Guesclin rush forward, blood in their eyes.

The duel begins.