Ana: Assasin of the Mafia; Chapter 28

by Maryam in A Land Of Desert And Sun

The sound of steel clashing against steel reverbrated around the duelling room and beyond, reaching Paul and La Medicci as they walked into the 'waiting room'. The men in there were focusing intently on the tiny, circular glass window in the door that was their only means of information until one of the people in the other room were stone-cold dead. As they came in, however, the men's concentration was broken by the sound of the footsteps and looked up, and they greeted La Medicci nervously, wondering how he would react when he learned his only, adoptive daughter was fighting a duel to the death with the head of the German Mafia.
'BASTA!' La Medicci roared to their feeble explanations, and continued on with a harrangue of different languages that made several of them swallow. Then, one of them slowly began explaining, La Medicci breaking in with a criticism now and then.

Ana gritted her teeth as she blocked yet another attack from Mecharani.
Parry. Riposte with a quick slash to the left, and as he parried she brought her sword down with a fury onto his head. Not surprisingly, he ducked out of the way and Ana found herself faced with another attack that had gone wrong. Then, suddenly, watching Mecharani breathe hard, his face blossoming with red, she realized one thing.
She had been fighting with her heart.
'Fight with the head, not with the heart!' Mecharani's foundation beat into her head, and her resolve hardened until she felt that, even if she wouldn't win, she would certainly give him a darn good fight till he could walk of here alone, alive, and well. And he damn well wasn't going to do that.

Paul was nervously chewing his fingers. Disgusting habit, he knew, but well justified, in his opinion.
La Medicci, after listening to the man's explanation, had gone into a tirade of curses in several languages, which calmed down after about five minutes, and then he started pacing.
And pacing.
And pacing.

Rather than have him attack, her parry and riposte, his parry again into another ongoing circle, Ana decided she would use her lighter weight and younger age to her advantage.
Dancing around him lightly on her toes, she neatly moved out of the way every time he tried to attack, then put in little attacks now and then. As she expected, he became annoyed and, hopefully, fed up, so when the real attack did come, he wouldn't be able to block it properly.
Which would be about...
Now!
She launched herself into a daring fl'eche that was undoubtedly her best move, and startled him into letting her blow ricochet off his parry and jar his sword in his hands. Hopefully before he could react, Ana started a flurry of blows that the most seasoned fighter would have trouble dealing with.
Unfortunately, Mecharani was one of the most seasoned fighters she had ever seen, met, or heard of, and he dealt with them easily, parry after parry after riposte, after the initial vibrations were over.
'Getting tired, eh?'
She saw his grin when, after another five minutes of furious fighting, she was getting tired. Ana willed herself to keep going on. But not in an offensive part. Ana's arms were, admittedly, taking a toll after all that, so she would have to take an offensive-defensive stance. In the best case, Mecharani was getting tired too.
Ana groaned.
When was this duel going to end?