Chapter 4
Another Dread Pirate Roberts (part 3)
Before he could set down his goblet Inigo was upon him, brandishing his sword in Trajan’s face and causing the young man to stumble backward to escape, knocking small pieces of pottery, tools, and unshaped steel rods across the floor.
“En garde, Guilderian! En garde!” Inigo’s booming voice shook the room. He paced toward Trajan, who stumbled to regain his footing and held his hands up.
“Sir, I have no intention of fighting you unless…”
“Unless, unless! Stop your bluthering and draw your sword. En garde!”
Trajan moved to his left as Inigo pointed his blade at his heart, following his movement. Westley sipped his wine and Trajan stole a glance at him, a silent plea with his eyes for help.
“I’d at least draw your sword,” Westley suggested.
Trajan stopped, summoned his courage, and faced Inigo. He slowly drew his sword.
“Yes, yes there we have it,” Inigo said. “Why do you scamper like a scared pussy cat? I could have killed you three times already. Now, en garde!”
“Sir,” Trajan said with a gentlemanly authority, taking up his stance. “I have no intention of fighting you unless you are, in fact, the Roberts I seek. Will you reason with me to ascertain that fact, or shall we clash swords needlessly? I have no quarrel with anyone other than he who killed my father.”
“Yes, yes we shall come to that. Now,” Inigo bowed, “we shall, as you say, clash.”
Inigo advanced on Trajan with such a speed and beautiful fury that the young man scrambled to meet the onslaught. He blocked two strokes, thrust one of his own, and forced Inigo to counter in a manner that the fencing master had not needed to draw upon in years – dozens of years, in fact.
Inigo paused, shifted his feet, and tilted his head to get a good look at his foe. He took a simple step forward and disarmed Trajan with a flick of the wrist, sending Trajan’s sword spinning and nearly taking Westley’s head with it.
Westley ducked. “Easy there, now.”
Trajan stood with Inigo’s sword point at his throat. Inigo stared closely at him and, without looking away, yelled, “Westley! What have you brought me? A child to spank?”
Westley stood, retrieved Trajan’s sword. “Now, now, old friend,” he said, handing it back to Trajan. “You can see he has some skill.”
Inigo scoffed and turned away for another bottle of wine.
Trajan took a gulp of air. He gripped his sword and took up a different stance than before. “You are clearly a master,” he said and paused, digging his boots into the sawdust on the floor. “If you killed my father, I will at least die knowing I faced an adversary of some skill, dastardly pirate or not. En garde. Sir.”
Westley smiled.
Facing the other way, Inigo grinned and slowly turned. He put his hands on his hips, no longer a tired, uncomfortable old man. Nor was he a rich man, a man of stature, feared by the lower-tier inhabitants of the island where men are rarely feared. He wasn’t even the Dread Pirate Roberts again. He was Inigo Montoya, son of Domingo Montoya, and pride swelled in him as every muscle in his body flexed remembering their former glory. He drew the famous sword, designed for a man with six fingers who no longer breathed.
For his part, Trajan no longer saw Inigo as a stranger, but rather a man standing in the way of his quest – a roadblock he no longer had time to treat with. He would either dispatch this master and move on, or fail and die.
Trajan’s form was perfect. For a moment, Inigo was on the defensive but he still met every thrust, studying the young fencer. Westley watched with fascination and could tell that Trajan grew more confident as the match wore on.
“You’re holding back!” Inigo said between moves. “Why do you wait? Is that why your father is dead, he held back when he should have attacked?”
Trajan fought faster, used the small confines of the shop to his advantage. He turned and hurdled over a table, then kicked it backward toward Inigo and screamed, “I am Trajan of the Greenglen! Son of Mastan!” and lunged at his adversary.
What followed was a furious display of rage, mastery, fear, revenge, and pride bleeding from the Guilderian who fought with equal measures of hatred and focused perfection, pent up from months of anticipation and bashes in the head. The duel lasted a full two minutes longer and both Inigo and Trajan were sweating – Trajan from exertion, Inigo mainly from his weight. Westley would only ever say that he was blessed to witness it firsthand, as it was beyond his vocabulary to describe.
But the outcome was never in doubt; Inigo was far too superior.
Inigo paused, looked at his bleeding arm – the first nick Trajan had managed to land – and felt alive again. Trajan panted for air before him, bleeding from several cuts but still focused on his man. The Spaniard master took a heavy step forward and disarmed Trajan in the same casual manner as before.
Trajan watched his sword disappear into a dark corner and his eyes searched for another weapon to employ. He’s a pirate, and fighting dirty is allowed against pirates. Trajan saw a sharp handle of a broken pot. I could pick up and thrust into the old man when he isn’t expecting it. He saw a twisted nail in a nearby board. I could kick into him. He saw a pile of sawdust at his feet. I could throw into his eyes. The Guilderian, son of Mastan, remembered all of the tricks Pilbrick had bashed into him…and he employed none of them.
Instead, Trajan knelt without lowering his eyes or head. He looked Inigo in the eye and said nothing.
Holding Domingo Montoya’s sword to Trajan’s chest, Inigo spoke not to Trajan, but to Westley.
“We will need to procure a new ship. I’ve burned all of mine.”
“Oh, the one we came here on will more than suffice. How far do you suppose we will need to voyage?”
Trajan, the sword still pointed at his chest, now looked at Westley.
“I suspect he will be near Indonesia this time of year,” Inigo answered. He turned and retrieved a rag to wipe Trajan’s blood from his blade before sheathing it. “But I wouldn’t want to face all of them just yet. We should find out what might have changed.”
Trajan slowly stood, wincing at the throbbing cuts.
“And besides,” Inigo said, putting a hand on Trajan’s shoulder and examining his face, “this one needs to heal.”
Trajan blinked and looked back and forth between the older men. “I’m ready to face him.”
Westley helped Trajan into a chair. “Perhaps.”
Inigo gave an uncertain shrug.
“So, we’re off to find a different Roberts then?” Trajan turned to Inigo. “How do I know it’s not you?”
“When was your father killed?” Inigo asked.
“Three years ago.”
“Pfft. I was trying my hand at carpentry three years ago. I’ve been retired since you were in diapers.”
“So, let us depart,” Trajan said, bolting upright, then getting woozy from blood loss.
“Do not be so rushed. First, we must consult with the man who replaced me. He will be able to tell us what we will be up against.”
“You mean what Trajan will be up against,” Westley said.
“Yes, yes, Trajan, of course. We will, er, help him, train him, yes.” Inigo’s voice took on a powerful tone. “Será glorioso. We will set upon the pirate ship Revenge. We will take on –”
“You mean ‘he will take on…,’” Westley interrupted.
“Yes, he will take on Roberts, on his own ship, his own beautiful, thirty-five foot, triple-masted ship…” Inigo was lost in his thoughts again.
Trajan, sitting again, pressed his hand against his bleeding shoulder. “Please, take me to Roberts. I can’t understand why we came here at all.”
“Because I’ve never met Archard. And, also,” he looked at Inigo, “I needed to see if you could match Roberts. My wife would be oh so cross were I to let you die without being properly prepared.”
Inigo felt the cut on his arm. “He is.” He looked at Trajan and smirked.
“So, off we go,” said Westley. “You’ll get to meet another Roberts, eh?”
Trajan shook his head while nursing his wounds, muttering to himself, “Blast, how many of you are there?”
Come back next week to see how Inigo and Westley prepare Trajan for the next leg of his journey, and how they get some much needed help, from a lady named Quidest.
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Previous episodes:
Prologue:The Daughter / Chapter 1: Trajan (part 1)
Chapter 1: Trajan (part 2)
Chapter 2: Miracle Max, retired (don’t even ask) (part 1)
Chapter 2: Miracle Max…retired (don’t even ask) (part 2)
Chapter 3: A Dread Pirate Roberts (part 1)
Chapter 3: A Dread Pirate Roberts (part 2)
Chapter 4: Another Dread Pirate Roberts
Chapter 4: Another Dread Pirate Roberts (part 2)
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