A Fight

He wiped his forehead with his sleeve. This development was quite annoying. He had no will whatsoever to fight, moreover if his opponent was simply a peasant girl with a dirty face carrying a sword almost bigger than her. But he had to, didn't he? He had to prove himself all the time, that was what it meant to be a worthy leader. And so he took out his sword which was thin and long and delicate and made the girl's dented one look almost ridiculous and noticed how she gripped the handle more firmly, looking him in the eyes. He realized she had pretty eyes, round and green, but he didn't care about that. A true leader would never let appearances get in his way.
The crowd was astonished. The girl had barged in with a fierce look in her eyes, demanding to duel him so she could avenge her older brother, probably killed by the troops. And, instead of letting the guards deal with it, he accepted. He said he didn't want his people to feel like he wasn't a fair ruler and thus he would deal with matters like that personally. His victory would certainly prove him as a rightful leader.
They went outside where they had more space, followed by everyone. He stood tall, looking around at his people and smiling confidently while the girl simply looked at him. And then, he attacked.
It was a swift strike, fast and elegant, directed at the girl's heart. But she blocked it with her sword, easily, and for a moment he could feel the heaviness of the blade and wondered about her strength. Such a little girl shouldn't be able to swing that around.
She took advantage of his sudden distraction, charging with all her might, only to hit empty space: he had dodged it on the last second with a fast movement. She lost her equilibrium and jumped back, while he attempted to hit her. They circled around, eyes locked on each other, both waiting for an opportunity to attack. He stepped ahead, bluffing. She didn't fall for it and used the chance to quickly get behind him, trying to hit him, but he rotated on himself and stepped back, creating a distance between them. She dashed forward, throwing her blade at him, and he deflected the attack; at the same time she shot her leg out and kicked him on the ribs, causing him to stagger. She continued her assault, mixing kicks with sword thrusts and making a minor cut on his arm. He realized she was indeed very strong, but he was faster, able to avoid her somewhat predictable attacks. He grabbed her ankle once when she tried to kick him and, although she was able to free it by force, her advantage was lost and he was already advancing, swinging his sword with an incredible speed. She hopped back and blocked his sword but was quickly out of breath. He scratched her chest and she switched to an offensive attitude. Her sword slashed the air with determination, hitting his once and almost knocking it off his hand. He held it firmly and concentrated on evading her swings which were even slower than before; but she threw herself forward, kicking him once again, and making a deeper cut on his other arm, which made him grit his teeth.
And then her energy seemed to dissipate. She lost her balance and was unable to get straight again so he was able to knock her down and disarm her. He rested the point of his sword on her throat.
"Any last words?," he asked, but something wasn't quite right. She didn't have the fierce look from before. She looked peaceful and tired, like someone about to go to sleep.
"When I was little," she said. "My uncle taught me how to find a very venomous snake that lives in this area. He taught me how to remove her venom and use it for antidotes. But I knew that wasn't the only use of it." She paused. "That sword was covered in it. A wonderful, deadly poison."
He touched his injuries. He was feeling quite dizzy and losing control of his movements... His sword fell from his hand and all his strength left him. He fell hopelessly on his knees.
A great leader, he was. The rightful leader.