Chapter 123: Contested Blades
Chapter 123: Contested Blades
Chapter 123: Contested Blades
I made my way to the central courtyard and found an elaborate setup. The central square of the fading gardens had been set with a thin layer of sand and sawdust. Over a hundred spectators stood to watch on one side of the square. Most of the spectators were workers in the Citadel.
A slightly raised wooden platform was along another edge of the square. The platform had a number of occupied seats. Castile was seated next to Duchess Veronica in the center, and a frown creased both their faces. They did not look happy to be here. A woman in a gaudy gown sat next to the Duchess, who I assumed was the Countess, Duchess Veronica’s mother. On the other side of the Countess was a lean man who looked to be in his early thirties. He had a smug look and looked happy to be watching the entertainment. Several Citadel attendants served the four VIP chairs on the makeshift spectator stage. Among their number was Lareen.
On the third side of the square, the men of the company were getting ready for the combat. As I joined them, Maveith was in the back, and I asked him, “Maveith, where have you been all day?”
Maveith looked surprised to see me, “Eryk, Castile accepted me as a huntsman for the company.” He was beaming with pride. “I went to my cabin to get some things and seal it from the elements and intruders while I am away. I told Trek to check on it occasionally as well. I just got back to find this.” He indicated the makeshift fighting square.
“Maveith, what is with all the formality? I thought we were not going to do this until after dinner.” I indicated the elaborate setup.
Adrian turned and walked to me to answer the question. His tone was sour, “The First Citizen Boris found out about the competition and set this up and got the Duchess to force Castile to agree to it. Eryk, are you going to compete?”
“Yes, of course. Isn’t everyone?” I asked. I noticed Lareen bringing a tray of food for First Citizen Boris. He leaned back, and they whispered to each other.
“So far, just ten men are interested in the blades,” Adrian informed me, which made sense. For instance, Blaze and Pavel wouldn’t want to fight as they were being given runic arrows. I noticed Lareen pointing at me while whispering to Boris. Oh, Lareen, what are you doing?
Adrian had a piece of paper in his hand, “You will fight Kolm in the first pairings.” I looked and saw Kolm stretching. He was the company’s ad hoc blacksmith and repaired our resin hide armor as well. He was short, but his biceps matched his thighs. He was one of the company’s shield men, and I don’t remember him practicing often with a sword.
“Can I use my air shield when I fight?” I asked Adrian.
“Yes, any spell forms are allowed. The First Citizen wants the men to fight bare-chested for the entertainment spectacle,” Adrian said unhappily. “The old healer is in the crowd if anyone gets injured, but control your enthusiasm as I don’t want anyone seriously injured. The first pairings will start soon.” Adrian walked away to continue organizing the mini-tourney.
I walked over to Kolm and watched Boris subtly as I talked to Kolm. Boris’ eyes were definitely following me. “Kolm, looks like we are paired off in the first round,” I said with a smile.
“Harpies tits! Really? Why does Adrian hate me,” he said dejectedly. “You are one of the favorites,” Kolm admitted sourly.
“I never understood that curse? Who are the other favorites?” I asked the miserable-looking Kolm.
Filth was quick to chime in, “Harpies tits, Eryk. You know, they look like a regular woman’s, but then the rest of the creature is hideous and trying to kill you. And Brutus and I are the favorites,” he said with a grin.
“They have been practicing out here all day,” Kolm told me. Both Firth and Brutus were spearmen in the company, so I was shocked they were favorites in the sword competition. Then again, our three best swordsmen in the company already had runic weapons: Konstantin, Adrian, and Delmar.
Benito came up behind me, “Eryk heard you are fighting. Cost is ten silver.” My confused face had Benito explain. “Winner take all. Runic sword and the silver.” I handed Benito the ten silver and realized the man was a gambling addict. The men, not Adrian, established this prize purse.
I returned to stand with Maveith as the first pairing was called to fight thirty minutes later after more spectators and refreshments arrived. Brutus was against Felix. Both legionnaires entered the ring in just their canvas pants and boots. Their muscled torsos held a shield and weighted wooden practice sword. Their bare feet stirred the sand as they walked. Mateo was close, and I overheard him say, “The sand and sawdust are so our blood does not stain the stones of the courtyard just like in the coliseum.”
The spectators started making some noise as the two men engaged. My focus was on the First Citizen Boris as he frequently asked Lareen questions, and his eyes drifted to me instead of the fight he had seemed anxious for. It was less than a minute before Felix was lying unconscious on the sand. The old healer moved to the sand to check on him and heal him.
The next fight was between Benito and Mateo. I had not followed the fight and was shocked when I looked up to find Benito had won. Mateo was a good swordsman and was heavily favored, but Benito was a shifty little guy. “Eryk and Kolm,” Adrian announced the next fight.
I heard someone in the company mutter that Firth was faster than normal today, and I thought the same thing. He continued to press, and I was hard-pressed to block and parry. He finally stepped back after nearly a minute, breathing heavily, “Eryk, you have gotten much better. This should have been over by now.” I could see his heavy eyes and guessed maybe he had used a spell form. I was guessing by the familiar, exhausted look in his eyes from using all your aether. It was a weak spell form, if that was what it was, and he had almost no aether to sustain it if he was already out.
Firth saluted me with his sword, “I concede the duel to Eryk.” To the disappointment of the crowd and Boris in particular, Firth walked off of the sand. I thought it was a very even match, perhaps even slightly tilted in Firth’s favor. Whatever he did to elevate himself had drained him considerably, and he chose to concede rather than lose in front of everyone. Or maybe he had used his one trick or did not want to show more. I was not the only man in the company with secrets.
Adrian seemed puzzled and shocked as well. I walked off the sand to stand by Maveith even though the next fight was mine. Benito moved close, “Eryk, that was impressive. I don’t feel so as useless as tits on a minotaur now for losing to you.”
Maveith intoned, trying to educate Benito, “There are female minotaurs with functional breasts, Benito.”
Mateo, who was nearby, asked, “How does minotaur milk taste? Is it the same as cow’s milk? How do you get it?” That got a lot of chuckles from the men. There was a small commotion on the stage as the two blades were brought out and placed at the feet of Duchess Veronica.
Adrian called us forward, “Brutus and Eryk, come forward and look upon your blade choices.”
The Citadel workers were crowding and craning their necks to see. I walked with Brutus and looked upon the two long swords. Each blade was about 33 inches with a hilt of 8 inches. Both blades had runic markings, but one was tarnished black and pitted. The other blade was polished steel and ancient-looking.
Duchess Veronica smiled down at both of us, “Two blades from my mother’s family guards. They have been loaned to me by my mother’s grace. The last runic smith of the Telhian Empire forged the dark blade for its intended purpose. It has fought in hundreds of battles and served its wielders well. The orcs of the Boutan Caliphate forged the other blade. It was claimed in battle by my grandfather from an orc warrior.”
Brutus caught the same thing in the explanation that I did. He asked, “After the expedition to the elven ruins, the blades have to be returned?”
The Duchess smiled, “Yes, unless you wish to enter my service. In that case, you can keep the blade and wield it to defend me.” Brutus frowned as he felt he had been scammed. I looked at Castile; she looked like she had already been aware of the condition.
Adrian interrupted our dismay at not being able to retain the blades after the expedition. “Eryk and Brutus, move to the center and prepare to fight.” As I moved onto the sand, I figured it made sense as a runic blade was worth a thousand gold, according to Delmar. Although the two blades we were fighting for were not nearly as immaculate as the Delmar’s or Konstantin’s. Delmar’s had come from a dungeon, and an elven smith forged Konstantin’s.
Brutus still seemed determined to win even though the prize was temporary. We tapped shields, and Brutus engaged with vigor. We danced and kicked up sand as swords clattered on shields at a rapid tempo. The men of the company cheered us both as we circled. “You are better than I remember,” Brutus said after I intercepted three quick successive attacks.”
“Maybe you are just getting slow in your old age,” I countered with a smile and counterattack.
“I am younger than you!” He barked as he launched into a series that was familiar to me from my time with Xavier, and I dodged and backed away, letting him expend his energy in futility. I could see the consternation and frustration building on his face. I still had not even used an air shield yet. I was beginning to think my dreamscape practice was more effective than my practice in the real world.
Brutus was better with a shield than I was. I was learning a lot by how his minimal movements prevented me from taking advantage of his openings. The fight was the longest fight of the evening, and the crowd loved it, and I was feeding off the growing noise. Brutus tried a trick that ended the fight. He tried to hook the corner of his shield on mine and pull it away to expose me. I had experienced this same act in my dreamscape from Konstantin. So when I noticed his shield caught mine and tugged on my arm for what it was. I used it against him, creating my own opening.
My swing was powerful and directed at his knee. Brutus realized it and tried to turn away from the strike to lessen the impact. I still connected, just not as solidly. “Debilitating injury!” Adrian called immediately, ending the fight. I think Adrian was concerned about making sure everyone was healthy before we left, as the healer was exhausted. Brutus limped away and had trouble putting weight in the leg. I think I shattered his patella.
I made sure Brutus was fine, but he was angry about losing. The healer needed a few hours before he could heal him, but Brutus assured me he was going to be fine. “That was a quick counter, Eryk. I didn’t see it coming. A well-deserved victory.” He clapped me on the back in both congratulations and assistance to stand. “You should go and choose your blade, as the First Citizens do not look happy to be kept waiting.”
Silence spread in the crowd as I walked to the platform and inspected the two blades again under the gaze of the Duchess, her family, and Castile. I picked up the tarnished blade and tested its weight. Then I did the same for the other one. The black blade was slightly heavier and appeared to have a better edge, even with the odd aging on its length. “I will take this one,” I indicated the darker blade. The Duchess’ eyebrows went up in surprise as it was probably the lesser of the two artifacts.
First Citizen Boris drew attention to himself by clapping loudly. “Good display of skills, legionnaire! I want to test myself against the best swordsman today. I am sure Mage Castile will give me the honor to exercise with this evening’s winner in front of the assembled crowd?”
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