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Physically the two men appeared perfectly matched and each was fighting for his
life, but from the first it was apparent that the Black Odwar was the better
swordsman, and Gahan knew that he had another and perhaps a greater
advantage over his antagonist. The latter was fighting for his life only, without the
spur of chivalry or loyalty. The Black Odwar had these to strengthen his arm, and
besides these the knowledge of the thing that Gahan had whispered into the ears
of his players before the game, and so he fought for what is more than life to the
man of honor.
It was a duel that held those who witnessed it in spellbound silence. The weaving
blades gleamed in the brilliant sunlight, ringing to the parries of cut and thrust.
The barbaric harness of the duelists lent splendid color to the savage, martial
scene. The Orange Odwar, forced upon the defensive, was fighting madly for his
life. The Black, with cool and terrible efficiency, was forcing him steadily, step by
step, into a corner of the square--a position from which there could be no escape.
To abandon the square was to lose it to his opponent and win for himself ignoble
and immediate death before the jeering populace. Spurred on by the seeming
hopelessness of his plight, the Orange Odwar burst into a sudden fury of offense
that forced the Black back a half dozen steps, and then the sword of U-Dor's
piece leaped in and drew first blood, from the shoulder of his merciless opponent.
An ill-smothered cry of encouragement went up from U-Dor's men; the Orange
Odwar, encouraged by his single success, sought to bear down the Black by the
rapidity of his attack. There was a moment in which the swords moved with a
rapidity that no man's eye might follow, and then the Black Odwar made a
lightning parry of a vicious thrust, leaned quickly forward into the opening he
had effected, and drove his sword through the heart of the Orange Odwar--to the
hilt he drove it through the body of the Orange Odwar.
A shout arose from the stands, for wherever may have been the favor of the
spectators, none there was who could say that it had not been a pretty fight, or
that the better man had not won. And from the Black players came a sigh of relief
as they relaxed from the tension of the past moments.
I shall not weary you with the details of the game--only the high features of it are
necessary to your understanding of the outcome. The fourth move after the
victory of the Black Odwar found Gahan upon U-Dor's fourth; an Orange Panthan
was on the adjoining square diagonally to his right and the only opposing piece
that could engage him other than U-Dor himself.
It had been apparent to both players and spectators for the past two moves, that
Gahan was moving straight across the field into the enemy's country to seek
personal combat with the Orange Chief--that he was staking all upon his belief in
the superiority of his own swordsmanship, since if the two Chiefs engage, the
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