Azina had selected a table slightly away from the others. Lyric was just sitting down to eat when Sir Robert joined them.
“Good evening, Sir Robert, join us,” said Azina as Sir Robert made his way to the table.
“My pleasure,” said Sir Robert as he sat down across from Lyric.
“Did Blair tell you why I asked you to join us this evening?” asked Azina once Sir Robert was comfortable sitting.
“He mentioned you might have information regarding the rumors about dragons. Multiple sources swear dragons flew across the village of Middale last night, and again today there was a claim of a dragon sighting, this time only one dragon.”
Lyric, who’d kept his head down, looking at his food, when Sir Robert arrived, looked up. During the evening dusk, Lyrics eyes were very noticeable.
Sir Robert looked at Lyric then turned to Azina. “I suppose we should be taking the rumors of dragons returning as fact.”
Azina nodded, “I would say so. What has Lord Lamar said about the dragon rumors?”
“That they are rumors. Lord Lamar and the other nobles who owe allegiance to King Gramalt will want to know that we have verification of the rumors.”
“And the king?” asked Azina.
“I’m not sure,” said Sir Robert. Lord Lamar is worried what the king will say. But with Sibylle trying to win her own tournament, Lord Lamar won’t push the king about dragons.”
“Lord Lamar knows?” asked Lyric in surprise. It was bad enough that Blair and Sir Robert had known.
“Of course. Lord Lamar was the one who arranged for the troll skin armor. He had an idea what Sibylle was planning and has given her every opportunity to win her own freedom. Lord Lamar is not in favor of the king interfering with Sibylle’s life, but he’s in a tight spot. Turning a blind eye to Sibylle’s plan was the best option Lord Lamar had in the matter.”
“So much for her secret,” lamented Lyric.
“It’s still a secret,” said Sir Robert. “Only those at this table and Lord Lamar know the truth. I’d hope that it will stay that way. She’ll have a hard enough time convincing the king if she wins. And what of you, Lyric? You obviously are dragonblood. Is that how you’ve done so well thus far?”
Lyric nodded. “Not at first. I won the first matches fair. But I woke up like this today, so all my victories today can be attested to dragonblood.”
Blair snorted. “You would’ve won regardless. With the fine teaching of Sir Robert and I, you should have been able to beat everyone in the tournament.”
Lyric laughed, everyone at the table knew that wasn’t true, but now that Lyric had victories behind him, Blair and Sir Robert had bragging rights. And once it was known that Sibylle was a contestant, they could add her accomplishments to the list.
“I’d keep the fact that Lyric is dragonblood a secret as long as possible. Let the rumors and dragon sightings sink in a bit first. It will take a while for everyone to admit that dragons have returned. Once they have accepted that fact, it will be easier to accept a dragonblood,” said Sir Robert. “With your permission, I’ll inform Lord Lamar. He can be trusted to keep this secret.”
Azina answered, “That will work. But make no mistake, whether they like it or not, the boy is dragonblood and will play a large role in the future. The sooner the king and his cronies figure that out the better.”
Sir Robert nodded. “I’ll take my leave. I will speak to you more tomorrow.”
“We too should be heading home,” said Valeria.
“With dragons about, you should be careful. May I walk you home?”
“My hero,” said Azina in a droll tone.
“Ignore her,” said Valeria. “I’d enjoy the company.”
“Yes, I suppose we should walk you home. Keep you safe from the scary dragons,” replied Azina.
Celine laughed at her aunts. “I do believe Azina is jealous. Sir Robert have you a lady friend? Aunt Azina here is available.”
Sir Robert walked away, under his breath he mumbled “I’d rather take my chances with dragons.”
Lyric snorted in amusement.
The women all looked at Lyric. Apparently, he was the only one to hear the comment. “I think I shall head to bed, long day tomorrow.”
60
THE DAY WAS HALF OVER. ONLY TWO MATCHES REMAINED. Lyric was to face Sir Chestmire, the warrior who’d already defeated him.
The other match was Talon Horne versus Sibylle. Thus far she’d managed to keep her identity a secret.
Lord Walden approached Blair and Lyric as they waited to be announced. The final matches were center stage in the main arena with the king and his entourage taking center seating. Strangely absent from the stands was Sibylle, who according to Lord Lamar was too nervous to watch the final matches. The fact that she rarely been seen during the preliminary days made this claim believable.
Lord Walden slapped Blair on the back. “Well, you’ve done it boys. I’ve kept betting on you and the money keeps coming in. Now I know you lost to Sir Chestmire already, but what do you think your chances are?”
“If I were an obscenely rich lord wanting to gamble on the outcome of this match, I’d not bet against the boy on this day, at least not until the final.” said Blair.
“Really?” asked Lord Walden. The last time they’d talked Blair had cautioned against such action.
“Lord Walden, the boys going to need friends in the days to come. You’re the only betting man this knowledge, but I don’t think the boy can lose against Sir Chestmire.”
“Blair, the boy is good. You’ve taught him well, but why the change of heart.”
Lyric took his helmet off and looked at Lord Walden. “Because I’m dragonblood.” Lyric spoke confidently and as a matter of fact. Despite today being the most talent fighters he’d faced yet, Lyric still won with ease. Lyric knew that Sir Chestmire, was no longer a threat. His speed and unique fighting style didn’t compare to the new Lyric. His dragonblood speed surpassed even the swift Sir Chestmire.
Lord Walden studied Lyric’s face. His gaze naturally came to Lyric’s eyes. Lord Walden had met Lyric before the dragonblood had taken affect. He could see the difference in Lyric’s eyes. “This is fortuitous. We’ll need to talk later. I’ve been hearing rumors of dragons from my friends in Partha for weeks. Even more troubling is the rumors of the Sacred Blood Brotherhood aggressively attacking people. It seems they don’t want to give peace with dragons a chance before they start another bloody war. Having a dragonblood among our allies will be significant. But we’ll save that conversation for another time. Why do you only promise victory against Sir Chestmire? Surely no man here could defeat a dragonblood?”
“That is one secret that you’ll have to wait to find out, Lord Walden. But I do agree, no man will defeat Lyric today.”
Lord Walden shook his head. “I’ve placed my trust in you thus far, no point stopping now. I’m going to go place an exorbitantly large wager on the match with Sir Chestmire before anyone else notices those pretty eyes.”
As Lord Walden left to find his gambling associates, Lyric put his helmet back on. “Why are you so free with information with Lord Walden?”
“Outside of Lord Lamar, Lord Walden is one of the few nobles I’d trust. He may talk like a degenerate gambler and he’ll play the fool at parties, but the man is extremely shrewd. He’s an ally you’ll need, and he’s not one to forget such things as being entrusted with knowledge such as we’ve provided him.”
“I thought learning to fight was complicated, learning political maneuvering seems far more challenging,” said Lyric.
“It’s not for the weak hearted. But owning a bar, one learns all sorts of things about how people think. I too once thought politics was strictly a game for the nobles. But any man who wants to better himself or those around him had better learn to appreciate politics. When a lord or king has the power to decide your fate, it doesn’t hurt to know how they think.”
Lyric sighed, he still had so much to learn.
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“Hailing from Winport, a young warrior under the tutelage of the famed Blair Hiron, here is Lyric Finch,” yelled the squire.
As Blair and Lyric walked into the arena, Lyric questioned Blair. “The famed Blair Hiron and Lyric Finch?”
Blair smiled to the crowd and spoke under his breath, “Politics. They’d rather cheer for the protégé of a local old fighter and the son of a merchant mage, than a bastard foreign boy trained by a bartender.”
Lyric absorbed the lesson. Sir Chestmire had already been announced and was standing at attention at his mark, waiting for the match to begin. Lyric bowed to Sir Chestmire and then towards the King and the nobles in the stands.
Blair gave Lyric a last few words of encouragement. “This is it lad. With any luck, you’ll not have to fight anyone else after this. Win this one and Sibylle will have two chances to not marry that bastard Talon Horne.”
Lyric, at the mention of marriage, thought briefly about Celine and his own situation. It was a tough moment that he had to ignore to fulfill his promise.
Blair ran out of the fighting circle, as did Sir Chestmire’s second. The squire waved his flag and the match begun.
Lyric, having already fought Sir Chestmire, was well prepared for the acrobatic display that followed the waving of the flag.
Sir Chestmire burst into a sprint and then leapt into the air, flying towards Lyric. His swords crisscrossed in mid-air.
The move was supposed to make Lyric step back, but instead Lyric jumped forward and did a front roll under the flying Sir Chestmire.
Sir Chestmire landed and spun to look at Lyric, a smile across his face. He knew that Lyric had learned from the last fight and would not be easily tricked into making a mistake. Sir Chestmire gave Lyric a nod of appreciation before launching into another attack, this time he feinted leaping into the air before dropping into a barrel roll.
Lyric used his staff to stop the attack. Striking down towards where Sir Chestmire intended to go, he forced the warrior to change direction. Lyric then followed up by pressing forward with a spinning attack, one Sir Chestmire avoided by doing a back flip. Lyric reversed his footing and spun the other way, keeping the pressure on the shifty Sir Chestmire.
To the crowd, this was an incredible display of fighting. The two fighters danced and twisted through the air. The acrobatic display was impressive and it looked like either of the fighters could score a blow at any second. In truth, Lyric was totally in control of the fight. With his heightened senses, Lyric could anticipate Sir Chestmire’s moves before he even tried them. Twitches of tiny muscles in the legs and arms gave away his moves, his eyes glancing towards the ground where he intended to land during an attack, all of these factors went through Lyric’s mind as he fought. Those senses along with his new speed made Lyric almost impossible to hit. Every time Sir Chestmire thought he had an opening to exploit, Lyric was gone and attacking from another direction. The back flips and somersaults were Sir Chestmire’s desperate attempts to avoid Lyrics strikes.
Sir Chestmire tried another back flip, one meant to avoid a low sweep from Lyric. However, the sweep had been a feint and as Sir Chestmire turned upside down, Lyric’s staff came down on his chest sending him crashing to the ground. Lyric scored the first knockdown of the fight.
The two men returned to the starting marks. Sir Chestmire looked bewildered. Lyric was moving impossibly fast. He seemed a completely different fighter than the one Sir Chestmire had defeated earlier in the tournament. But Sir Chestmire wouldn’t go down without a fight, nor would he go out without giving the crowd an amazing display. After the flag was waved, Sir Chestmire launched into another acrobatic attack on Lyric. A spinning heel kick followed by outstretched arms yielding swords, into a shoulder tuck roll. Sir Chestmire’s blades danced through the air only to be met by the ends of Lyric’s staff.
Lyric was impressed. While he’d been competitive with Sir Chestmire the first fight, the man was much more dangerous this fight. If Lyric had not had his dragon powers, Sir Chestmire would’ve undoubtedly won this fight easily. His unique and creative attacks almost caught Lyric despite his new skills. But the fight ended when Lyric fully used his speed, a pair of counter attacks knocked Sir Chestmire’s blades to his sides and then Lyric twisted at the hips bringing his staff up into Sir Chestmire’s ribs. The hard blow sent the acrobatic warrior to the ground.
The crowd cheered as Lyric walked over to Sir Chestmire and gave him a hand up. The man grinned and accepted Lyric’s hand.
“Well fought, Lyric Finch. I’ve never had my arse so thoroughly whipped before. I’m glad the crowd thinks it was a good fight.”
Lyric grinned. “I’m thankful I had the opportunity to fight you early in the tournament. If not, I’d have been the one on his back.”
After the judges announced Lyric as the victor it was time for the second to last fight of the tournament. Sibylle versus Talon Horne.
…
The crowd greeted Talon Horne with a mixture of jeers and cheers, mostly jeers. Talon Horne was infamous for his tendency to injure other fighters, something that didn’t endear him to the crowds. Not that Talon cared, he considered every man he faced in the arena an enemy. On the battlefield, one didn’t show mercy on his enemies. Talon Horne would have killed his opponents if the rules had allowed it. Life mattered little, victory was what counted.
Sibylle, or Galleno, was greeted to cheers. The crowd didn’t know who they were cheering for, but they certainly knew who they were cheering against. The mysterious Galleno was the crowd’s favorite in a contest with Talon Horne.
The fight was entertaining from the beginning. Galleno pressed the attack, forcing the bigger Talon Horne to take a defensive position. The first flurry of blows ended with Galleno striking Talon Horne squarely in the thigh. All of the judges score flags were raised, point Galleno.
Talon Horne took exception to the loud cheers of the crowd when Galleno scored the point. He smiled and nodded, but his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. Talon Horne intended to hurt the fighter who’d dared to score a point against him. He’d show the crowd who deserved their cheers. Talon waited until Galleno attacked again, this time Talon waited until Galleno got too close. Talon let his swords press into Galleno before he struck down with a vicious head-butt against his smaller opponent. The move was legal but generally frowned upon in the arena. Talon didn’t care, it weakened his opponent, giving him the opportunity to strike.
Galleno stumbled back from the force of Talon’s head-butt. The blow was a scoring one.
Talon followed up the devious attack with a flurry of swings of his swords. He struck Galleno in the knees, another frowned upon yet legal move.
Galleno cried out in agony, but kept enough presence of mind to step back, avoiding a heavy overhand attack that had would have broken an arm if Talon had his way.
Angry and frustrated by the dirty attacks, Galleno ignored the pain and launched into another attack on the bigger fighter. Galleno managed another scoring blow on Talon, but Talon retaliated with another questionable strike against Galleno’s knee. Galleno was now hobbled. Talon pounced when Galleno’s leg buckled. Talon landed a blow to the chest that sent the smaller fighter to the ground. Talon Horne now led the fight 7-2 on points with the advantage of one knockdown.
As the two fighters returned to the start points, the crowd could see that Galleno’s leg was near useless now. The repeated attacks against the knee made the joint swell. Galleno could no longer bend that leg.
Talon Horne smiled, he knew victory was his. Now all that was left to do was make this upstart pay for daring to score any points against him. When the flag was waved Talon launched into a series of low attacks, threatening to once again strike at the injured leg.
Galleno bravely fought, blocking the attacks but when the leg once again failed, Galleno stumbled. This left Talon the opening he’d been waiting for. Talon’s sword struck Galleno’s helmet, sending it flying and Galleno to the ground. Talon had scored his seco
nd knockdown and was the victor. He raised his hands in victory, turning away from the downed fighter to mock the crowds that had jeered him.
Yet to Talon’s surprise the crowd was silent, and they were not looking at him at all. All eyes in the arena were on his fallen opponent.
Talon turned to see Galleno sprawled out, unconscious. Her long hair, hidden under her helmet now spread out on the ground. Everyone in the arena could clearly see that Galleno was Sibylle. Talon’s smirk disappeared. His victory was tainted. He’d won with questionable tactics, something that had never bothered him before, but now with his possible future wife on the ground, Talon looked bad. People would remember not that he’d won, but that he’d needed to use dirty tactics to beat a woman. Rage filled Talon. What was the bitch thinking? Once he married her, he’d teach her her place!
…
In the section of the stands reserved for the royal guests, King Gramalt turned to Lord Lamar, “What is the meaning of this?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Lord Lamar. “You forced this tournament upon us. Sibylle is her own woman, and she chose to fight for the right to pick her own husband. There is nothing in the rules that state she could not do so.”
King Gramalt was angry. Sibylle shouldn’t have been allowed to enter a tournament to choose her husband. Lord Lamar would pay for this treachery! King Gramalt smiled, “I suppose it matters not. She has been defeated. Now Talon Horne will fight Lyric Finch for her hand.”
“May the better man win,” replied Lord Lamar. He matched the king’s steely gaze with one of his own. His daughter deserved better treatment than what King Gramalt intended for her.
…
Lyric had watched the fight, every moment of it. From the first questionable head-butt to the cheap blows to the knees Lyric felt his rage growing. Talon Horne was a bully. Lyric had spent a lifetime being beat up by bullies like Talon Horne. The boys in Winport who would’ve killed Lyric had it not been for Azina had been just like Talon.
Lyric's Curse (Dragonblood Sagas Book 1) Page 29