The Meeting at the Stone Wall

The birds sang beautifully in the trees as the dueling participants arrived for their deadly encounter. The dueling ground was a beautiful park with lush green grass, and cherry trees and flowers at their peak bloom.

Nearby was a weathered, old stone wall and arch that had been there for as long as anyone could remember. No one knows when or why the stone wall had been built. The grounds on both sides of the wall were just as beautiful and charming to visit, but the wall existed nevertheless, just as a barrier between the Steampunks and Goths had seemingly always existed.

Standing under the stone arch was an elegant lady of noble bearing dressed in the finery of an aristocrat except for her dark, round eyeglasses and the Luger slung in a leather shoulder holster worn on the outside of her dress. Her clothing showed no indication of her being either Steampunk or Goth. Lady Grace, Duchess of Xavier, had been chosen by the duelists to provide the swords and referee the duel.

Angela and her second, Artemis, approached from the left end of the stone wall at the same time Secretia and her second, Penny, approached from the right end, and they met at the arch in the middle where Lady Grace waited for them. Neither dueling party said a word to each other when they met, and there was a palpable tension in the air. Even the birds stopped singing as the two duelists met face-to-face. After a moment of silence that seemed to last for eternity, Grace broke the tension by welcoming each participant.

“Angela, Secretia, and seconds...” Grace nodded to each in turn. “I see we’re all present, so let’s begin. Here are the swords for your inspection.”

Both dueling parties inspected the light swords and found them to be identical and satisfactory. They also discussed and agreed upon the ground where the duel was to take place, and random lots were drawn to determine the location of the en-garde standing position for each duelist.

“The rules are the same as we discussed the other day,” Grace continued. “You shall begin by saluting and then adopting the en-garde position. Once I give the command, you may fight by any means you wish as long as you receive no outside help and use no weapon other than these swords. The duel ends when one duelist has been killed or concedes defeat. Understood?”

Angela and Secretia silently nodded their heads while staring daggers at each other.

“Now go back to your respective ends of the stone wall and get ready,” Grace commanded. “Remove your tops to prove you’re not wearing armor and to reduce the risk of infection from a sword pushing cloth into a wound.”

The dueling parties separated and went to their ends of the stone wall.

A Gentle Touch Before the Violence

Angela and Artemis had an intimate rapport with each other, so no words needed to be spoken as Artemis began to remove Angela’s black lace corset and green brocade chemise. Angela felt comforted by the feel of Artemis’ skilled fingers untying the laces on the back of her corset and loosening them enough so the interlocking busk in front could be separated. Angela felt a huge sense of relief at her ability to breathe again as the corset was loosened and removed, and her shapely breasts jiggled as they sprung free of their fashionable constraints. Angela savored the sensation of the warm spring breeze lightly caressing the soft skin of her exposed upper body.

When Artemis turned to face Angela, she looked into Angela’s brown eyes and saw the beauty and promise of youth. A warm glow came over Artemis as she recalled holding Angela in her arms last night. That was the first time they had shared a bed together, and they had made love with unrestrained passion and caring. Now, the warmth in Angela’s eyes has been replaced with a cold, hard edge as Angela began to prepare herself mentally for the cruel work that lay before her.

Artemis smiled nervously as she lightly caressed the strand of soft brown hair hanging down the left side of Angela’s face. Artemis was only a few years older than Angela, but she felt an almost motherly love towards her idealistic young leader as she tenderly placed her hand on the key hanging from Angela’s necklace, and Angela responded by resting her hand on the identical key hanging from Artemis’ necklace.

“I’ll be fighting for you and the other Steampunks, Mother Artemis,” Angela said with a mischievous grin that belied the nervousness she felt.

“Bah! You know I hate being called that!” Artemis said with a warm smile. “Now, go kill the bitch!”

Angela turned and walked with fierce determination towards the designated spot where she would face her opponent as Artemis checked the readiness of her rifle for the umpteenth time before looking over at the two Goth women through narrowed eyes of suspicion.