Scriostóir - 24

Stay calm Cerdic admonished himself as he leaned against the back of the bench in the main room. He found that doubly hard to do however as he watched Godric trying to work his wiles on Manny. Thankfully Manny still seemed to be resisting. Cerdic hoped that soon he’d tire of the games and go to his room for the night. Then Cerdic would be able to destroy Godric without Manny being any the wiser. In the morning he would tell Manny that he had sent ‘Rick’ back to the city on an errand. Later, when he and Manny returned themselves, he would come up with some excuse why ‘Rick’ was no longer around.

He scowled when Godric casually put one arm around Manny’s shoulder and whispered something to him as the two boys watched the end of whatever show was on the television. Manny shook his head, but didn’t pull away and Cerdic’s scowl deepened.

Minutes later, Manny suddenly jumped to his feet. “Enough is enough,” he said angrily. “I thought you were just kidding around.”

Godric was standing seconds later. “I don’t ‘kid around’ about something like this. I’ve grown more than fond of you since we met. I want you to feel the same about me. Damn it, Manny, at least give me a chance!” He gripped Manny’s arm to keep him from walking away, apparently not caring the Cerdic was watching their every move.

Manny appeared oblivious to Cerdic’s presence as he struggled to get free of Godric. “I’m not like that,” he said angrily. “I’m not some fucking faggot like you.”

“Then why did you lead me on to believe that you were interested?” Godric retorted angrily, tightening his grip.

“Both of you, stop this now!” Cerdic roared at he crossed the room. “Rick, release him now! Manny go upstairs. I’ll deal with him.”

Godric dropped his hand from Manny’s arm, staring hard at Cerdic. “How do you intend on dealing with me, sir,” he sneered, his arms hanging loosely at his sides.

Without answering Godric, although his eyes never left him, Cerdic again ordered Manny to leave the room and go upstairs to his room.

“Oh I think not,” Manny said under his breath as his weapons materialized, a hand-and-a-half sword in one hand, and a flanged mace in the other.

At the same moment Godric’s also appeared. He held both a scramsaxe and sword with a wide, double-edged blade. His face was grave as he said, “You can surrender and face your death honorably and I’ll make certain that it is indeed a final death, not one that puts you into the eternal torment that you so richly deserve.”

Cerdic’s lips curled up in contempt. “Boy, do you truly believe that you can defeat me?” While he spoke weapons materialized in his hands as well, one great sword that he held as if it weighed nothing, and a shorter one of the same type as Godric’s.

“We can,” Manny replied, stepping into Cerdic’s view.

“Well now, this is unexpected. Scriostóir or Caomhnóir?”

“Caomhnóir,” Manny answered even as he made the opening lung of the battle.