First comes the whisper of a sword being drawn from the scabbard, then the glint of steel catching the light, and, all too soon, the sinking feeling in your stomach when your opponent looks at you and smiles. That’s when you know this duel isn’t going to go well…
Duels are the ultimate expression of the enchantment of violence: the drive to kill another channelled through rules and ritual, given the pretence of civility and the illusion of consent. How can any sane person consent to gamble away their lives on a single contest, on the whims of a broken blade or a boot heel slipping on loose terrain?
