Sword & Saturday — You Can’t Kill the Hero
A tried and true principle of fiction gets challenged
For this Sword & Saturday entry, I present another duel, this time a fictional one within my literary fiction Freelan series (yet to be published). (Yes, fiction within fiction.)
The fictional character writing this is a successful author, publishing two to three spicy adventure novels per year. Her heroes, both male and female, stand strong against those who would tear them down. One of those heroes is Drew Storm, a man fashioned after the ideal in the author’s mind. She has sent the manuscript for her latest novel to the publisher. A young editor working there reads it.
In this scene in that manuscript, Drew faces off against Kiran Shah, a movie star who has insulted Serena “Rena” von Aspenburg, a woman that Drew admires and with whom he occasionally enjoys intimate times. A week after meeting Rena at a party, Kiran and Rena had become an “item” as the tabloids call it, and he was using it for all the publicity he could get:
“Yes, the rumors are true,” said Kiran to a bunch of journalists who clustered around him. His publicity agent had put word out that he had a big announcement to make. “I’ve knocked up Rena von Aspenburg. She’s gonna have my baby. Easiest conquest I’ve had so far. Absolutely panting for it. I could tell from the moment I met her. She’d been talking to that milksop Drew Storm. But when I came up to her, she focused her attention on me.”
Drew is present when Kiran says this and goes immediately to see Rena. Things progress from there:
Drew sat on the sofa and Rena sat next to him. She poured out his cup of tea the way she had many times in the past.
“So, how are you?” asked Drew as casually as he could.
“Darlink, I am in the best of health. Vhy are you askink?”
Drew told her what Kiran had said, and her face showed a brief moment of anger. But she was so well brought up that it had only lasted that moment.
“Vell, dear Drew,” said Rena in a purring tone, “I am guessink that he is wantink publicity. It is normal for one such as he.”
“But to bandy your name around that way…,” said Drew, his anger definitely showing.
Rena laughed. “Thank you so much for carink, dear friend, but it is no matter.”
They chatted for a few minutes and then there was a knock on the door. Rena’s maid answered it and announced Kiran. He brushed past her and into the living room of the suite where she sat with Drew. He stopped when seeing the man.
“So! You betray me with this dog!” Kiran’s Indian accent came out when he was angry. Otherwise he was careful to speak English clearly.
Rena stood and stated loudly, “And you schmear me to dose hyenas!”
Kiran slapped her hard.
Drew jumped up and slapped Kiran. The actor backed away, stunned at first and then grinning.
“You challenge me to a duel?”
Drew looked at him, surprised, and then smiled. “If you wish.”
“Nein!” said Rena, but both men ignored her.
Kiran, as the one challenged, selected the weapons—epées with which he was highly skilled. They agreed on a place and time to meet. Then Kiran left and went to his own suite in the hotel.
Drew turned to Rena. “Sorry about that, but I couldn’t just stand here and do nothing.”
A short time later, Kiran and Drew meet for that battle…
The place Kiran had chosen was a grassy area in the middle of a grove of trees. The two men had their seconds holding the swords while they prepared for the ordeal. Two other men were nearby. One was a medic. The other was an official there to assure that the duel went according to tradition. Drew had worn his fencing clothes, and Kiran had dressed in an outfit from his homeland, India. Kiran flashed his gleaming white teeth in a broad smile at Drew. He would rid the world of this do-gooder and enhance his movie career at the same time. His second handed him an epée. He flexed it and did a few lunges, warming up for the kill. Drew followed suit. Then the official called the two men together.
“You will follow the rules of fencing set down by the Fédération Internationale d'Escrime, headquartered in Lausanne, Switzerland. When you have cut your opponent, you call out “touché” and step back. The medic will check the wound and treat it as needed. This is a duel to the death, but we intend to be humane nevertheless. Do you agree?”
Both men nodded.
“Shake hands and step back.”
The two men complied. The official said, “Begin!” and stepped back out of the way of danger. The duelers’ swords clashed in metallic cacophony and the four men standing by watched the duelers intently. No one heard the limo driving up or saw the woman who got out of it as the chauffeur stopped on the edge of the clearing. She stood watching anxiously, gasping as Kiran’s sword nicked Drew’s cheek. The official stopped the duel while the medic attended to the cut. Then the fight resumed. Kiran then received a cut on his left arm, and again they stopped to have it tended. The duel continued, with the two men going back and forth across the grass and the other people there occasionally having to jump out of the way.
And then it happened.
Drew’s attention wavered for a brief second, catching a glimpse of Rena. Kiran noticed this and lunged. His sword struck a fatal blow. He cried out, “Touché!” and stepped back. Drew staggered and clasped a hand to his neck, trying to stem the flow of blood. The medic rushed over. The carotid artery had been cut wide open and he worked feverishly to stop it from getting worse.
Drew pushed the medic’s hand away. “No, don’t.”
Rena ran over to him and knelt beside him.
As Drew lay with the blood from the wound in his neck seeping into the soil, he smiled at Rena. “May you live a long and happy life.” She smiled back at him through her tears as she knelt beside him. He went limp and his eyes stared upward. She began weeping openly and without caring who saw or what they thought. Kiran stood off to the side, dropping the epée in his hand and looking scared. He had never killed a man before. His second tugged at his arm and said, “You need to get back to your home country. If you stay in France, you will be hanged. Dueling is still illegal here.” The two of them rushed off while Drew’s second helped Serena stand and then the medic came over to load Drew’s body in the waiting ambulance.
The young editor exclaims, “Oh good grief! What is she thinking?” Then he contacts the author, saying that she just can’t kill off the hero.
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NOTE: My text and images are all human generated. No AI content ever!
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Thanks for reading. If you’ve been enjoying my flash fiction on here, please check out my first book of short stories (a couple are actually novelette length), newly published by Wordwooze Publishing. (I even designed the cover.)
A scammer on Amazon is now selling paperbacks of my book for $26.11. Avoid Amazon! Or be sure to buy the $16.99 version posted by my publisher.
I detect a bit of mild self insert fun here!
Humor mostly aside, this made for some entertaining layered storytelling. For a time, I wasn't certain if the segments that weren't block quoted were part of the story itself or your brief explanations between scene snippets. The ending complaint from the editor ties it all together, though. The scenes presented are well paced and give a solid sense of character despite being relatively brief, while the cutaways to the author's/editor's notes add a nice touch of humor and a sense of genuineness to the whole thing. Those segments in particular read as a witty fictionalization of your own experiences with publishing, which could be a wild and completely wrong assumption on my part, but it works well by helping the story feel just that little bit more relatable.
As long as you don't go full Martin you should be fine.