My eyes swept his chosen arena. The trees were sparse this high in the taiga. Moss gave the ground some bounce, but the lakes dotting the landscape made it squishy.
I opened my portmanteau, fingering the ammo I’d hoarded from the repository. The voluble idiot! His calumnious accusations had cost me everything! I demanded the Debt of Honor – giving me choice of weapon, but him time and place.
He would arrive soon. I pulled a rusk from a vest pocket and nibbled; I needed my strength.
Sunrise struck the horizon, and in its effulgent glow appeared my nemesis.
He smirked at the ammo, “Your concertina would’ve been a better choice – debilitate me instantly, like it did Julia.”
“Julia had the flu! She loved my songs you wretch – you’ve been spreading lies!” I reached for several water balloons. “Arm yourself! And remember the price of defeat. You agreed.”
“So did you.”