Chapter 5 A Savage Duel

Sigefrida let out a deep sigh as she followed her master’s orders. She quickly translated the conversation between Marcellus and the Barbarian chieftain known as Selmirus. Thus, Marcellus began to negotiate with his enemy while hidden under a shell of shields.

“If you have come to make demands of Rome, I am afraid that I do not negotiate with barbarians!”

Selmirus spat upon the ground after hearing the Roman General’s words spoken in his tongue via proxy. After doing so, he loudly boasted of his identity and various achievements in battle.

“I am Selmirus Wolf Warrior of the god Wuotan! Slayer of a thousand men in single combat! I have put hundreds of Romans to the sword, but never have I slain a General! I choose you. Come out and fight me like a man!”

Within the confines of the shield wall, Sigefrida conveyed the barbarian’s words to Marcellus, who began to laugh upon hearing such a thing.

“Tell me, Selmirus, If I were to resort to such foolishness, what is to stop you and your men from raining your arrows upon us the moment I agree to your terms and lower my shield wall?”

Selmirus immediately responded with a scoff as if he were offended by the very notion; afterward, he began to speak once more.

“I swear on my honor as a warrior that our duel will be sacred and that no man among my ranks will interfere. If I were to break this oath, then may my soul never enter Wuotan’s hall!”

Marcellus could not believe his ears upon hearing such a phrase; truly, this man must have a great desire to add his head to the ranks of men that he had killed. Such an oath was not to be taken lightly among the warriors of Germania. The Roman General struggled to come to a conclusion, after all, what benefit could such a risk possibly pose to him or his soldiers? Thus, he inquired further about the offer.

“What happens if I kill you in this sacred duel of ours!?!”

Selmirus broke out into intense laughter as he heard this notion escape from the luscious lips of the Suebi Slave girl hidden beside the Roman General’s side. It was not just the chieftain who broke out into a state of uncontrollable howling, but the thousands of men by his side as well. Their echoes filled the forests of Gaul, frightening the lesser creatures who dwelled within. It took a few moments for the Barbarian Chieftain to calm down before responding to the Roman’s comment.

“In the unlikely event that you manage to defeat me in single combat and claim my life. Then I vow on my honor and that of my people that you and your army will be free to continue your march without my tribe getting in your way any further. If we break this oath, then may our souls never reach the halls of our ancestors!”

Marcellus was astounded at the lengths this barbarian was going through to ensure a duel with him. The young General gazed around at his troops and then at Sigefrida. If anything were to happen to her, he would not forgive himself, thus with great resolve; he uttered forth his decree.

“Lower your shields!”

The moment he said this, Sigefrida and the men beneath Marcellus’ command alike began to interject, unwilling to allow their General to walk into a trap.

“Dominus, no!”

“General, you can’t!”

However, Marcellus’ mind was made up. Thus, he patted Sigefrida on her head and smiled before giving the order once more.

“I said lower your shields, dammit!”

The moment he cried out this command, the shield wall crumbled, revealing thousands of Suebi warriors surrounding Marcellus and his men within the forest. If blood could be avoided by killing this single barbarian, Marcellus would take up this duel. After all, their goal was not to deal with this rabble, but the Usurper Constantine III.

Though driving the Barbarians from the Diocese of Gaul was another objective, it was secondary, and the young Roman General wanted every soldier he could muster for the fight against the usurper and his armies.

Marcellus gazed upon Selmirus, who met his glance with a fierce glare of his own. There was a smug expression on the man’s face as he stood at the front of his army. As Marcellus stepped forth towards the man, he uttered another command to his men.

“Do not interfere with our duel until it is complete! If I die, then so be it; make sure to avenge my loss!”

Though the soldiers beneath his command wanted to object, they saw the determined glance in their general’s eyes and immediately stood firm, praying to God that he might be saved. Marcellus paid no attention to the men beneath his command. Instead, he raised his spatha and scutum into a fighting position before grinning at the Barbarian commander.

“Whenever you are ready!”

With that said, the duel was on, and the two men charged at each other with weapons in hand. The chieftain known as Selmirus immediately thrust his spear towards Marcellus, which his scutum deflected before Marcellus pressed forward and attacked with a vicious stab of his own.

The Barbarian warrior easily deflected the jab of his blade with his shield before thrusting yet again with his spear towards the gaps between Marcellus and his armor. Yet, Marcellus dodged the oncoming blow as he slashed towards the neck of his opponent.

The two warriors were locked in a dance of death as both sides cheered for their representative. Before long, Marcellus managed to spill the first blood by slashing his opponent’s thigh. As the man’s blood spilled onto the floor, it seemed not to harm him. Instead, he took advantage of the opportunity to jab his spearhead into the shoulder of Marcellus.

Unfortunately for the barbarian, the thick bronze scales of the Roman General’s Lorica Squamata easily deflected the oncoming blow, and Marcellus noticed an opening; thus, he thrust his spatha forward towards the rib cage of his enemy right beneath the heart.

However, the barbarian chieftain dodged just in time, and thus, the sword pierced through the rings of the mail coat but failed to tear through flesh. Before Marcellus could withdraw his weapon and react, he was kicked across the chest with a push kick, sending him backward into the mud below.

The Barbarian warriors on the sides erupted in cheers as they witnessed their chieftain hurl his spear towards the downed opponent. Despite this attempt to skewer Marcellus like a pig, the Roman General rolled out of the way and towards a standing position, charging forth towards his enemy like a wild boar.

Selmirus immediately unleashed his sword and engaged in mortal combat with the Roman standing before him. The two men were locked in a ruthless struggle as their weapons clashed against wood and steel alike, one man never gaining too serious of an advantage.

The battle lasted for a few minutes before both men were gasping for breath. Finally, Marcellus moved forward with a slash towards the neck of the opponent, which Selmirus attempted to dodge, however before he could, the cut turned into a thrust where the noric steel blade of the Roman’s General’s spatha embedded itself in the barbarian chieftain’s neck, piercing entirely through the other side.

The barbarians gazed in horror as their commander fell to his knees before Marcellus withdrew his blade via a vicious slash, severing Selmirus’ head in the process; after doing so, he wiped his bloodied blade on the man’s trousers before staring at the Barbarians with a murderous glare.

Though the Suebi wanted to avenge their master, they were profoundly superstitious and came to their senses as they remembered the vow that he had taken. If they were to act now, then indeed neither Selmirus nor their own souls would find their way to the afterlife of the valiant dead.

Thus, there was utter silence for a time before Marcellus returned to the men under his command, who watched in awe as their commander eliminated the Barbarian Chieftain in single combat. He helped Sigefrida upon horseback with a slight push before climbing up himself. After doing so, he gave his command to his soldiers.

“Forward March!”

With this said, the Romans recovered from their stupor before advancing back onto the path they had taken before the enemy ambush. The Suebi warriors gazed in awe at the man who had killed their chieftain. Staying their hand as they did so, for to act against Selmirus’ wishes would surely damn their souls for eternity.

Sigefrida clung to Marcellus’ back once more, smelling his musk as she did so; the bravery of her master had left a deep imprint on her heart. She swore she would never forget this day. Thus, with the Barbarian Commander’s death, the Romans were back on the path towards Valence. As for the Suebi tribe, which allowed them to pass, they swore that they would get their vengeance upon the Roman who had killed their chieftain one day.