Axe and Fist
Martel felt more dead than alive when he woke the next morning. At least he did not have breakfast duty on Glunday mornings, so when the first bell rang, he could remain in bed. He even went so far as to commit what felt like sacrilege and skip the al, sleeping away the entire bell. Still drowsy-eyed, he dragged himself to the apothecary for his work. Nora giggled at the sight of him and made sure to mock him more than once until his two hours were done. His class in elental magic went a little better, as Master Alastair accepted that his students were in less than peak performance during the harvest festival.
At lunch, Martel took revenge for his missing breakfast and stuffed himself before he left the school. He did not quite feel up for the noise of the crowds nor the bright sun outside, but Maximilian was participating in the ga today, and he had an agreent with Shadi as well. At least the latter would make him feel better, and it might be fun to watch his friend fighting on the grounds; this ti without Martel's life in any way being endangered. Squinting and shielding his eyes from the sun, Martel walked north of the street.
~
The small lee, as the day's ga was called, consisted of bands of mageknights battling each other in skirmishes. Two groups at a ti, each having five mbers. Since these magical warriors could in theory beat on each other all day without causing harm, the rules were simple. If a mageknight beca disard or fell to the ground, he or she had to leave the fight. If all five mbers of the group were eliminated in either of those manners, they had lost.
Because of the criteria for winning, many of the mageknights wielded hamrs or other blunt instrunts, useful for knocking sobody off their feet.
By the fence, Martel stood with Shadi as on the first day of gas. More crowded and less comfortable than on the stands, but they had no choice as Maximilian participated and could not grant them access to the benches.
"Do you know when Maximilian fights?" Shadi asked.
"I think he said the second bout today. I got a bit lost, because he was explaining all the complicated ways behind how he was chosen to fight with this particular band," Martel admitted.
"I never thought about that."
"What other families they're aligned with, factions at court," he rambled. "I couldn't even keep track of half the nas."
"Good thing we don't need to know what they're called to enjoy the spectacle," Shadi laughed.
Further conversation beca impossible as trumpets rang, marking the beginning of the ga.
~
Ten mageknights took position in the middle of the square, arrayed in two rows facing each other. So of them bowed, a few nodded at their opponents, and the rest did nothing but stand ready. The trumpets sounded the signal, and the two lines clashed with the dreadful noise of tal against tal.
Martel had seen Maximilian fight, and he had seen the acolytes at the school practice. This felt like sothing else entirely. The warriors moved with trendous speed to strike with dreadful strength; at the sa ti, they accepted such vicious blows without flinching, always ready to retaliate.
It was hard to fathom no serious injuries would co of this, but the defensive magic of the mageknights held firm. When soone beca knocked down, they got back up and walked off the field, no part of them wounded other than their pride.
At last, one side overca the other, and the first fight had ended. While the crowd was still busy cheering, already the next ten fighters appeared. Martel recognised Maximilian among their number and pointed him out to Shadi, describing the emblem.
He looked at the opposing team. Wearing helts, he could not recognise any faces, even if the distance had allowed for it. But he saw an armoured fist on a surcoat that looked familiar; it took him a mont to rember the crest for the House of Fontaine.
Martel did not know why this worried him. Eleanor was a mageknight, she could handle herself, and she had volunteered for the ga. Yet as the trumpet rang and the two rows attacked, a sense of unease touched him rather than excitent from watching the spectacle.
Martel tried to follow Maximilian in the fight, though the constant movent of ten people fighting did not always allow for this. Maximilian had always struck him as a powerful warrior whenever they had been in scraps together, such as yesterday against Tibert's n. It was clear though that the main difference lay in his magic; now, facing his peers, he was far more challenged. Still, the scion of Marche swung his hamr and defended himself, staying on his feet.
As was perhaps inevitable, the two acolytes ended up opposite each other, while the more experienced mageknights battled it out. Maximilian struck out, and Eleanor withstood with her physical shield rather than magic. Retaliating, she slashed her sword against his arm, but the armour held.
They both continued their assaults; Maximilian trying with brute force while Eleanor attempted precision against weak spots, as both of them sought to knock the other fighter down.
Ever so often, another warrior blocked Martel's line of sight, but when the decisive mont ca, he was fortunate enough to witness it all. Eleanor ca in close, hitting at Maximilian's ankle. He must have deflected with magic because he did not react. Instead, he struck down with his hamr.
Almost too swift for Martel to see, Eleanor tossed her sword into her shield hand, evaded Maximilian's blow, and grabbed the haft of his hamr to pull it away. Taken by surprise or off his balance, Maximilian did not react in ti. His weapon slipped out of his grasp, leaving him disard. Howling with frustration, he stalked off the field.
Eleanor's joy remained short-lived, as another enemy slamd his shield into her lithe body, knocking her to the ground. Martel felt nauseated watching her fall, and for a mont, he feared that he might actually throw up. Thankfully, he saw her get back on her feet and walk away without signs of injury.
Next to him, Shadi applauded as the remaining warriors finished the fight. "What a battle!"
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