"Ensis should be proud that these two young warriors are defending it. Lord Jacobson and Sir Gavin, thank you both for your dedication to your training," Queen Valerie announced to the crowd before looking down at the slip of paper from the judges.
The stands cheered in a higher pitch than before. The young ladies of the kingdom definitely wanted the attention of these two n.
"The winner of the match is Sir Gavin." Queen Valerie barely got out the last syllable before the sopranos of the crowd taphorically sang Gavin's praises.
The youths in the arena took in the cheers with humility. It could have been that I was just used to seeing my brother be the antithesis of humility and so anything beside him looked modest.
"Please clear the field for the match between our newest Swordsman for the clan of Wolves, Lord Carrion and Sergeant Agnar representing the clan of Bear," The Queen dismissed my forr babysitting charges from the field.
It hit that my clan was the only one left that could potentially have two champions in tomorrow's bracket. If we did, that would knock the clan of Wolves completely out of the tournant.
A smile crept across the corners of my lips. Lord Carrion's perfect tournant could end with none of his clan making it past the first round. What a delicious thought.
"Alina! Look!" Lady Calista's panic erased the mirth from my mind. I followed her finger just as Princess Alina did.
Lord Jacobson attempted to walk off the field with his head held high, but he scooted along in each step with an unmistakable limp. He favored his left leg over his right.
It seed out of character for Sir Gavin to not lend him a shoulder to help Lord Jacobson to the dical tent. I gazed toward the man in question to see him stiffly holding one arm to his waist. Both n were injured in the exchange.
Sir Gavin, as if reading my thoughts, took notice of his opponent's struggle. Gavin rushed to the other man's side.
I could not hear the hushed words exchanged yet again on the field. These childish courtiers need to learn how to project. Inquiring minds who were forbidden from fighting need so form of entertainnt.
Sir Gavin ca alongside Jacobson and visibly winced as he draped the younger man's arm over his shoulder to take on Jack's weight as he hobbled along. Whatever pained Sir Gavin, he refused to cry out.
Even though I think his strive to be perfect is absurdly obnoxious, I have to say that I think Sir Gavin would have helped his opponent off the field even if no one was watching. That is the sign of a good man.
"Do you think Jack is okay?" Princess Alina asked in earnest.
"Let's go to the dical tent!" Lady Calista jumped out of her seat before Alina grabbed her arm.
"I am not about to create a two front war with the Norads in the mountains and your brother on my doorstep!" Princess Alina exclaid. "Sit down! We will watch the last match then head to the dical tent imdiately."
Calista huffed her disapproval before sighing her resignation. Against such sound logic, Cali had no argunt. If Alina and Cali missed seeing Carrion's match, there would be a wave of destruction that could only co from a man trying to prove his own importance.
I do not know if it was Lord Carrion's eagerness to prove himself or if I was distracted by watching the injured gentlen hobble out of the arena, but the final matchup of the day took to the field much faster than their counterparts.
Lord Carrion faced the crowd, beating his gauntlet on his chest. The stands erupted. The newest Swordsman captivated the people.
What a fleeting thing it is to be the newest, shiniest piece on the Queen's chess board. He should enjoy the mont. It will not last long.
"Alright already. Stop showing off!" Calista blurted, interrupting my thoughts. Maybe the twin should not enjoy the mont after all.
Sergeant Agnar stretched his hand out to the younger man in the arena. With the audience cheering Lord Carrion's praises, he almost did not register the gesture. The two n shook hands and the match began.
Being a seasoned fighter, Agnar took full advantage of the arena. He struck Lord Carrion hard and fast before retreating to circle around him again. Carrion's fleeting attempts to catch Agnar's nimble movents fell short.
I could have sworn I heard Cali let out a small cheer after a particularly good hit by Agnar. I did not realize the extent of Calista's desire to put Carrion in his place. Humility goes a long way.
The two fighters played cat and mouse, with Agnar clearly in control of the match. He exemplified the best of the clan of Bear.
Lord Carrion finally edged his way forward, closing the gap between the two n. Their swords locked as they both went for the strike. Carrion pushed forward but found no give in Agnar's firmly planted stance.
Instead of retreating from the grapple, Lord Carrion pushed again, this ti putting his shoulder into it. Sergeant Agnar anticipated the motion and side stepped the attack, leaving Lord Carrion stumbling forward.
Carrion turned on his heel and slashed the air erratically. His temper flared with the uncontrolled blade. He looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum instead of a Swordsman.
His last swing caught the tip of Agnar's sword. The unexpected hit made Agnar step back, rolling with the force of the strike. Carrion stepped in and closed the gap between the n yet again.
Without waiting for Agnar to anticipate the move, Lord Carrion threw his shoulder into his opponent, setting both fighters off balance. Both n tumbled to the ground.
I gritted my teeth. Although the rules of the tournant did not explicitly prohibit such antics, no decent swordsman would stoop so low. Agnar needed to put him in his place!
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