I gripped my newly acquired weapon tightly and had no qualms about using it.
Total silence… my breathing… the wind, and silence again.
My breathing… the whistling of the wind, and silence again.
I held my breath… the wind, and there was a breath.
I gripped my mace tightly, and as soon as the top of his head came into view, I struck with all my might from top to bottom. Two crossed arms stopped it, and a scream.
"Ah! Shit." A second movement, a reload, a muscle twist; I planted my feet on the ground with all my strength and, in a diagonal motion from bottom to top, I drove the mace into his side.
A choked voice, knees hit the ground, and then a face contorted in pain. I raised my arms to the sky and, with all my strength, tensed my abdomen as I struck his head; the blow sounded sharp, reverberating throughout the desert.
Blood was trickling from his skull; his head fell to the ground while his knees still supported the rest of his body, staining the sand.
"What was that noise?" said the voice from the crevices. "It's up on top of the dune." Footsteps again. I looked everywhere for a place to hide; I could see a large rock on the other side. I hoisted the body onto my shoulders and carried it behind the rock. I hid it and ran back to the left side of the top, lay down in the sand, and buried myself.
"Idiot, where are you?" Then I heard footsteps. I counted—eight, maybe nine—and then they stopped. "It wasn't this way," I heard near where the bloodstain was. The footsteps approached me; they didn't head toward the rock. I counted: one, two… eleven, twelve… twenty-one, twenty-two, and they stopped. He walked—I wondered left or right—I didn't know, but I had to get out; I couldn't hold my breath any longer. I rose gently from the sand, saw him—the gods had been kind to me—and walked where he wouldn't see me coming. With extreme caution, I walked toward him.
"What the hell?" I thought those would be his last words… I raised my mace carefully and—"This is…" I struck his head with all my strength. He fell to the ground; I was about to finish him off when I heard footsteps and a voice.
"You little bastard." The element of surprise was gone. It would be a traditional battle; when I saw him, I doubted I could win—he was taller and more muscular. He had a spear, and the distance worked in his favor.
We walked slowly toward each other and stopped just before his spear could reach me. "You're good at stalking, but what about fighting?" He was right—I'm lacking in some areas when it comes to fighting, but he doesn't know that yet. "You've ripped a person's head off with a single blow before," I said calmly. "Sometimes they don't realize they're already dead." My uncle told my cousin and me that when they were young, my father ripped a person's head off with a single blow from a club; I never believed it was possible until I saw my sister do it in the cave.
"How many have you killed, boy?"
"More than you can imagine." What do I do? I hit his leg, try to break his arm—he has the upper hand; I'm not fast enough to dodge him.
"Where are the others?"
"They fled, maybe they're hiding… or maybe I just killed them." If I throw the mace at him to distract him… I'd just lose my weapon. Some rocks would be better… but there aren't any here.
"You're going to die; you don't stand a chance, kid." I gripped his spear tightly with both hands and aimed it forward. I braced myself for battle. Silence again.
I charged at him; he lunged at my abdomen. I grabbed his spear with one hand and, with the other, struck the long wooden shaft with my mace. I split it in half, but now the other half was lodged in my abdomen. With both hands, I broke it off as close to my abdomen as possible without pulling it out, making sure it wasn't cut short enough that I wouldn't be able to remove it later. He charged at me after throwing the rest of his spear. He pulled a dagger from his side, which I blocked with the piece of wood that had been torn from me. We wrestled on the ground… until I managed to wrest the dagger from him in one swift motion; it fell nearby, but not quite close enough, along with the piece of wood.
He slammed my skull against the sand again and again with his blows; I couldn't do much… then he grabbed my neck with both hands and began to choke me. I knew what I had to do, but I was dazed and dizzy… I tried to reach his face with my hands, but he leaned back slightly and smiled.
"You're a smart kid, but I'm taller and less stupid." My fingers barely brushed his chin; it was always the same. Was I supposed to die of suffocation? Was it a sign from above or something like that… I was losing strength in my arms and everything was going blurry; I thought as fast as I could.
"Come on, kid, don't fight it—you're so close to the end." I clenched my fists and threw as much sand as I could grab into his eyes and mouth while he was still talking…
He choked a little on the sand and couldn't see, but his grip didn't loosen. He'd die if I didn't do something, so I grabbed two of his fingers on each hand and pulled hard in the opposite direction of his palm.
"Ah, you fucking bastard!" — He coughed as he tried to wipe the sand from his eyes with the fingers of his broken hands… I took the opportunity to try to reach for the dagger… he clasped both hands together and struck me hard in the chest… I managed to reach the dagger and plunged it into his side again and again… maybe six stabs until the dagger got stuck and he fell into the sand, dead.