Dijon, 1081 AD
It was decided by the Duc that the duel would take place at dawn, in front of Dijon's eastern gate. That morning the two nobles meet outside the walls, with a horde of spectators lining the walls on one side, and surrounding them on all others. Each of the combatants speaks with their retinue one last time before taking their swords and marching onto the field. The Duc speaks first.
"Well, met, Chevalier! Is there anything you wish to say before we begin our duel? For my part, I can only say that it is a privilege to participate in such a fine contest as this."
"I don't really do words, mon duc," replies Raoul, "but thank you for the hospitality and the honour of fighting you this day."
With that he raises his blade in preparation for the first exchange of blows.
The air seems still for a few moments, each knight cautiously approaching the other, silently sizing up their opponent. Then with a shout both men sprang forward. The sun glints off steel as they swing their swords. Both aim high and put all their strength into the swing. At first it seems as if each will take a blow but then the ground under Raymond de Provence's forward foot, softened by that morning light rain, yields. He loses his balance and his sword swings wide.
The next thing Raymond notices is the clanging sound of his opponent's sword striking his helmet. It was a savage blow, and nearly knocks the Duke down. For several seconds Raymond stands dazed, hearing nothing but a ringing in his ears. Luckily Raoul is caught slightly off guard by the degree of his success, giving Raymond time to steady himself and raise his sword. The Duke is not out of the fight yet, although he might worry about the warm feeling of blood trickling from his right ear, and the persistent but softening ringing in his head.
Raoul backs off a few paces, frowning slightly as he examines his opponent.
"No offense, mon duc, but you look pretty hard hit. I will not hold it against you if you pull out, it was a lucky hit on my part anyway."
Raymond shakes his head a bit, partly to decline and partly to clear the ringing from his ears.
"That's a noble sentiment Chevalier, but I can still fight. Let's give this duel a proper ending!"
The two combatants circle each other, looking for an opening. Suddenly, both move in for a swing. This time no mishap gives either an advantage, and their swords meet. The two men strain, each pushing his blade against that of the other. Raoul's strength begins to give him an advantage, and slowly he pushes the Dukes sword back. Then, suddenly, Raymond shifts the direction he is pushing his sword. Raoul finds next to no resistance forward, but his weapon is being pushed to the side, where it swings harmlessly past Raymond before Raoul can compensate for the change.
Raymond takes the split second advantage he has gained and swings. His first swing chinks Raoul's mail on his left arm, and then the latter is able to bring his sword up but not in a good position. Raymond presses the attack and for several moments Raoul is forced to back up, desperately trying to block each blow. Finally Raymond's furious attack is too much, and he is unable to block a second blow to his offside arm, which sends several chain links flying and draws a deep gash in his limb.
"Sir Raoul, this time I ask whether you'd like to yield. There would be no shame, for we seem to be evenly matched."
Catching his breath, Raoul wheezes a laugh, waves Raymond's question away and raises his sword:
"Have at you, mon duc!"
The two combatants circle each other, occasionally making a feint in an effort to find a weakness in the other's defenses. Finally Raoul takes his chance and commits himself to an attack. Raymond has been waiting for this moment, however. Even as Raoul begins his swing the Duke is already ducking under the arc of his opponent's swing. Raymond strikes hard and quickly, his sword smashing the chain rings of Raoul's mail along the upper part of his left leg. Blood gushes from the wound, and although Raoul attempts to continue the fight, he can no longer keep his footing and falls to the ground. The fight has ended.
Wincing, Raoul crawls on his knees to the man who has defeated him. As he looks up, he speaks under pain.
"I offer my fealty, Duc Raymond. Give an order and it shall be done. I will follow you even into death."
Raymond offers Raoul his hand, smiling.
"It was a fine contest, Sir Raoul. Let's get you patched up, and then we can go exchange oaths formally.”
With a nod Raoul lets Raymond hoist him up, and with the Duke shouldering the weight of his left side they both begin the trek back into the city.
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