The Master vengeful
The noise surrounding the arena was deafening. The crowd, a heaving beast during the earlier competitions, had swelled to twice its size. Soldiers now lined the arena’s perimeter to keep people from spilling onto the ground marked for the competitors. Wagons pulled by teams of oxen rolled across the muddy arena as men forked hay onto the ground for others to rake it flat and create a dry bed.
Radimar noted the large perimeter left untouched. That would be where Simusor Alreed would try to push him. Muddy ground was hard to fight on and made even the most adept fighter slow and clumsy.
Alreed swaggered into the arena first. Like Radimar, he wore minimal harness. Unlike Radimar, he carried sword and shield. The crowd bellowed his name amid a thunderous round of cheering and applause. The king’s champion raised his arms in a victory sign, circling the arena so that everyone could get a good look at him. People stretched out their arms, hands grasping in the hopes of touching him with fawning admiration. He slowed as he drew closer to where Uhlfrida and Jahna sat.
The icy calm Radimar held onto threatened to melt under a fresh swell of fury as Alreed gave a quick bow, and even from his place in the billet’s doorway, he could see the way the other man’s gaze raked the cloaked and hooded Jahna.
Sodrin surged forward with a snarl, only to be brought up short by Radimar arm-barring him across the chest a second time.
“Hold, Sodrin.” He turned to his student who resembled an angry bull, nostrils flared and snorting.
“How can you be so calm? I know she isn’t your sister, but still…”
Radimar wanted to tell him that the hardest struggle he’d face in this match would be holding onto that calm. Jahna might not be his sister (a fact of which he was inordinately glad), but he still cared for her and was as offended by Alreed’s earlier remarks as Sodrin. Instead, he said “Third rule of combat: fight with purpose, not emotion.”
The king’s champion completed his circumnavigation of the arena and came to a halt in front of King Rodan and the queen. He gave a deep bow before turning to face the billet at the opposite end of the arena. The crowd’s chanting grew louder when he banged the flat of his sword against his shield, an unspoken challenge for his opponent who currently remained out of sight.
Radimar hooked his helm to his belt, took up his swords and turned to Sodrin with a last admonishment. “You stay here. No matter what happens out there, you hold your temper and do nothing but observe.” Sodrin opened his mouth to argue, and Radimar shook his head. “Do as I say, Sodrin.”
He strode out of the billet and into the arena. The crowd’s greeting wasn’t as crazed as it had been for Alreed, but cheers went up at the sight of one of the much vaunted Ilinfan swordmasters entering the field.
Radimar didn’t walk the arena’s perimeter but cut a line straight down its center toward Alreed and the place where the king and queen were seated. He ignored the champion whose eyes narrowed at the small slight, and saluted the royal couple with a bow of his own and his swords crossed in front of him. He then trekked to where Lord Uhlfrida sat and bowed a second time.
Uhlfrida gave an approving nod and a hand signal indicating good luck. Jahna’s face was pinched with worry, and she didn’t smile when her eyes met his, not at first. He touched the place under his hauberk where he’d pinned her brooch to his gambeson and gave a quick nod. Only then did her lips turn up a little.
“Good fortune,” she mouthed slowly so he could understand.
Once the salutes were over, both men donned their helmets and took their places in the arena’s center to face each other in the ready stance. Radimar found it telling that Alreed had armed as if for battle, wielding sword and shield, while he armed for dueling. The king’s champion wasn’t interested so much in entertaining the crowd as he was in winning.
After hearing Alreed’s remarks and that of his lickspittles about Jahna, Radimar wished he’d brought axe and shield. Still, as Sodrin said, he couldn’t murder Alreed on the field. Doing so guaranteed the king’s displeasure and possible punishment. So two swords it was, and as he promised Sodrin, Radimar intended to make Alreed very sorry he ever issued his challenge.
The arena marshal stood nearby, arm raised in anticipation of the king’s signal. At Rodan’s nod, he dropped his arm and shouted “Begin!”
The crowd’s thunder faded away in Radimar’s ears as he and his opponent circled each other. “Purpose,” he muttered to himself.
Their first clash happened on a sudden rush from Alreed with Radimar easily deflecting the blow the other man delivered. Alreed was a worthy opponent—strong, fast, and experienced, and his sword-shield pairing was a better choice than the two-sword pairing Radimar chose. Radimar understood how he had earned the title of king’s champion.
While they were evenly matched in size and height, it soon became obvious that Alreed relied on aggressive charges and powerful blows to overwhelm his adversary. Radimar was quicker on his feet, his two-handed fighting style suitable for both speed and reach. The swords he wielded were of equal length, and he used both to attack and defend.
The duel was hard fought, with both men slamming into each other in a clash of armor, muscle and shield. The audience’s loyalty was a fickle thing, swinging in Alreed’s favor one moment and Radimar’s another.
Radimar started out as defender in the duel but turned the tide, becoming the aggressor as Alreed slowed, and his shield arm tired. Frustration replaced cool-headed calculation, and Alreed began leaving openings in his defenses that Radimar exploited with zeal, landing blows that didn’t cut but bruised, beat, and wearied his opponent.
When Radimar smashed his boot heel into Alreed’s inner thigh, the champion’s bellow carried above the audience’s cheers. He staggered to one knee, shield and sword raised in full defense as Radimar battered him with both swords.
They had traveled from the arena’s center to its muddier edge. Intent on delivering a relentless beating to his adversary, Radimar didn’t notice until it was too late. One step landed him outside the straw and onto the slippery mud. He stumbled, and Alreed saw his chance.