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It was a crisp fall day with a slight breeze and clouds overhead that rolled and boiled in the gray sky, threatening rain as Captain Tamas prepared for the duel.

The field of honor was an hour’s ride outside of Adopest, the capital of Adro. The wheat had been harvested and the ground lay bare but for the chaff and trampled stalk. In the distance, a farmer and his wife stood outside their stone-walled hovel and watched as Tamas’s second, and the second of his opponent, paced off the points for the duel.

Tamas’s second was a man named Matin. He was only an officer cadet preparing to enter the army at the rank of lieutenant, but it had been the best Tamas could do at such short notice. Few commissioned officers wanted anything to do with him.

Tamas checked his pistol for the third time. His powder was dry, the pan primed, and bullet loaded. The seconds had inspected both pistols but Tamas would rather be confident in his weapon and have his opponent think him nervous than suffer a misfire.

The ground was paced out, the center marked, and the swords stuck point-first into the ground where the opponents would turn and fire. Matin spoke quietly to his opposite number and then approached Tamas.

“Sir, I beg you to reconsider. ”

“Has he apologized?” Tamas asked.

“No, sir. ” Matin rushed on before Tamas could respond. “But this is a mistake, if you don’t mind me saying. ”

“And why is that?” Tamas stared at the cadet, forcing the young officer to look up and meet his eye.

Matin swallowed hard, and Tamas was secretly pleased he could have that effect on a man. At twenty-one, Matin was six years younger than Tamas, the third son of a baron and already engaged to be married. While Tamas had nothing but his name.

“It’s just,” Matin said slowly. “It doesn’t seem wise. You’ll risk your rank! Captain Linz’s father is a duke and, uh, well you’re a …”

“A commoner? I’m aware, Matin. You don’t have to stutter. ” Tamas had fought over two dozen duels in the last ten years, almost exclusively against nobles, and he’d even killed a few of his opponents. But he’d never challenged the son of a duke before. Even if he was a second son. “If you would rather not be involved, I will understand. I just ask that you speak to my opponent and schedule a new date for the duel. ”

Matin visibly steeled himself, straightening his back. “I gave my word I would second for you, sir. ”

“And I’ll remember that when I’m your commanding officer. ”

Matin smiled as if Tamas had made a joke. Tamas ignored that, turning to eye his opponent from across the field. Captain Linz was a tall man, broad in the chest with gold hair like a lion-a natural-born grenadier if Tamas had ever seen one. He was grateful that Linz had not demanded sabers, as he would have likely defeated Tamas.

“I am not without mercy,” Tamas said. “Would you please remind the captain that I am a powder mage? I’ll accept his apology for the slur against my parentage and the parentage of my hounds, and we can part as friends. ” Tamas caught Linz’s eye and gave him a wan smile.