Snapdragon’s expression was priceless and inspired laughter from the table.
“It’s interesting you should bring that up, Snapdragon,” Rayne said. “Before we left for lunch, Oakleaf and I got to see the bracket set up for the event this afternoon. We’re in different divisions, so the only chance we’d have to fight against each other is if we are the final two.”
“Well,” Kelvin said, “I have seen Rayne in training, and I have no doubt he’ll do quite well this afternoon. If Oakleaf can fight as well as he can shoot, we very well may see these two battle it out for the title.”
***
“And the weapons in this barrel are to be used for the non-Erd participants if you see me stand and motion to you with my handkerchief,” Caldre instructed. “Is that clear?”
The officiator charged with setting out the weapons for the event peered into the barrel. “What’s different about these?”
Caldre’s cold stare made it clear that such questions were not to be asked.
“All right, all right,” the officiator said, raising his hands defensively. “I’ll do as you command.”
“Just remember to look up into the grandstands before each contest.” Caldre pointed to where King Daimh and Councilor Abrecan were already seated. “It would be unfortunate if you neglected to do so.”
***
“Alana, how does this event work?” Sunshine asked.
Her friend pointed down to the field to where a large circle, twenty paces wide, had been drawn on the field using crushed chalk. “It’s rather simple, really. Each participant will start in the middle of the circle. Various types of weapons are placed on the outer edges. When the officiator gives the word, the men run to the outer edge in opposite directions, choose their weapon, and then rush to face each other. Sometimes the officiators will add or take away different weapons between events to see how well the men can adapt. As long as the item is in the circle when the match starts, it’s fair game. The object is to knock the other person off his feet, force him out of the circle, or get him to yield.”
Sunshine frowned. “It seems a bit barbaric, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does. Isn’t that great?” Snapdragon said.
Sunshine suddenly felt a bit queasy. Even though she had heard the weapons were made of wood, there was a good chance people could get hurt. She searched for Rayne in the crowd of participants and spotted him next to her older brother. They seemed to be talking and pointing to the circle, probably discussing strategy.
“Sunshine? Are you well?” asked her mother, putting her arm around her. “You look pale.”
Sunshine took her eyes off the field. “Yes, I’m fine. Let’s just hope the same can be said about Rayne and Oakleaf after this event.”
***
Rayne watched intently as Oakleaf and his opponent walked to the center of the circle. He noticed the officiators placing various weapons on the edge of the combat area. The crowd had been allowed to come close to the circle, standing only a few steps outside of it. One section had been set aside for the participants, where Rayne stood now.
Oakleaf’s opponent was a wiry man from Regne with jet black hair. The two moved to the middle of the circle, and the officiator gave them their final instructions, whereupon both participants nodded in understanding. After taking a few steps back, the officiator raised one hand in the air, then paused a moment for dramatic effect and dropped his hand swiftly.
The participants raced quickly to opposite edges of the circle. Each man grabbed a sword and a shield and then turned to face the other. Moving carefully toward the center, Oakleaf initiated the attack. His blows came quickly and solidly. The other man did his best to fight him off, but he was put on the defensive so early that he had backed out of the battle area before he realized it.
Upon his return, Rayne congratulated Oakleaf, and together they watched the next several matches, awaiting Rayne’s turn. The match before Rayne’s caused quite the reaction from the crowd. It involved the man who had scored the most points in yesterday’s competition. Rayne heard others refer to him as Ivor, designated as number 13 from Erd.
As soon as Ivor’s match started, he did something very odd. Instead of racing to his edge of the circle, Ivor quietly followed his opponent to the edge and then shoved him out of bounds before he knew what had happened. The people from Erd cheered while just about everyone else booed his actions. The officiators gathered together, discussed the situation, and then quieted the crowd.
“The participant from Erd did nothing against the rules, and therefore is the victor,” the officiator said. He waited for the boos and the scattered cheers to settle down before he continued. “As long as the participants use only what is found in the circle when the match starts, they can use anything at their disposal to achieve one of the goals.”
Ivor strutted off the field as Rayne and his opponent approached the center of the circle. Rayne recognized his opponent as the man who had won the two strength competitions the day before. He stood a head taller than Rayne, and his arms appeared to be as thick as Rayne’s legs. Rayne looked up at the man as the officiator gave the instructions. He had been taught several different methods of combating a stronger or taller opponent, but he wondered which to use against someone taller and stronger.
The other unknown was which weapons he’d be given—he wouldn’t know what was available until he got to the edge of the circle. He offered his opponent a smile, but didn’t get one in return.
The officiator lowered his hand, and Rayne raced to the edge. He was hoping to find a staff, but was only given a two-handed broadsword as an option. He picked it up and turned to face his opponent.
From watching the rock-throwing and rock-basket events, Rayne knew the man was strong and had good endurance. Rayne didn’t remember him doing well in the bow-and-arrow event, so chances were his dexterity wasn’t that good, and perhaps that was something Rayne could exploit.
When they arrived at the center of the circle, Rayne waited for the man to initiate the first attack. He didn’t have to wait long as his opponent swung his sword hard, but not very quickly, and Rayne was able to parry it easily. The man offered several more blows, each coming in at predictable angles and easily deflected. Rayne then decided to go on the offensive. After another strong but slow blow, Rayne riposted, quickly slashing at the man’s legs and smacked him hard against the shins.
Looking more upset than injured, the man lunged forward, swinging harder than ever. Rayne again riposted, this time hitting his opponent hard on the arm with the flat part of the blade.
The pattern of wild swings, followed by Rayne’s quick responses, continued for several more moments. Rayne kept backing up slowly, keeping an eye on the chalk edge in his peripheral view. When he was as close to the edge as he dared go, he waited for the next blow. Instead of trying to block the swing, Rayne ducked low and to his left, allowing the cut to swish harmlessly over his head, but causing his opponent to overextend himself and lose his balance. The taller man lurched forward and stepped over the line.
The officiator immediately told the men to halt and declared Rayne the winner.
***
The second round started with Oakleaf quickly defeating his opponent. This time they were not given any weapons, and Oakleaf was able to wrestle the man to the ground.
When Ivor walked onto the field, the crowd again reacted strongly, some cheering and some booing. He and his opponent were each given a morning star—a weapon that was basically a ball attached by a chain to a handle. A real morning star would have sharp spikes on the ball, but this wooden version did not.
Ivor’s opponent attacked first, bending low and swinging for the big man’s legs. The chain wrapped around one of his ankles, but before his opponent could yank on it, Ivor jumped backwards, pulling the man forward and off his feet. Before the officiator could stop the match, Ivor strode forward and kicked the fallen man hard in the ribs.
Rayne passed Ivor on his way to the ce
nter of the circle, noticing the smug look on his face. Trying not to think about what he would do if he faced Ivor, Rayne sized up his current opponent. The man wore a red armband, indicating he was from Erd. He was roughly the same size and build as Rayne, with intense, dark brown eyes and a neatly trimmed goatee. Once again, Rayne’s warm smile was answered with a chilly glare.
Upon the officiator’s command, they ran to get their weapons. Rayne couldn’t help but grin when he noticed he was given the option of a sword or a staff. Having experienced firsthand how effective a staff could be, he chose it. Rayne was also betting that his opponent would select a sword. He picked up the staff and spun around to see that his opponent had indeed selected a sword and was racing toward him. Rayne took several steps forward, then set himself and allowed the other man to come to him.
The participant from Erd barked out a laugh when he saw the staff in Rayne’s hands. This obviously boosted his confidence, and he charged hard. Using the full length of the staff, Rayne easily fended off the attack. The two men exchanged blows, but Rayne was able to keep the other man at bay while letting him do all the work. After several minutes, Rayne sensed his opponent was tiring and took advantage. Following an almost desperate advance, Rayne parried the swing and quickly brought the other end of the staff around, smacking the man hard on the forearm, causing him to drop his sword. The man looked shocked and was clearly in pain.
Rayne knew his opponent couldn’t pick up the fallen sword without becoming vulnerable. He took some slow steps away from Rayne, raising his hands defensively. Instead of pressing the attack, Rayne lowered the staff and asked, “Do you yield?”
Looking behind him to see how far away his other weapon was, the man must have realized there was no way to reach it without opening his flank to Rayne. Lowering his head in defeat, he spoke loudly enough for the officiator to hear. “I yield.”
***
“Something about that seemed familiar,” Caldre said to Abrecan.
Abrecan nodded curtly as he stared hard onto the field. “How many from Erd are left?”
Caldre stood to get a better look at the scoreboard. “At the start of the third round, there are four men left. Two are from Erd, one is from Lewyol, and one from Lebu.”
“I see,” Abrecan said. “I was hoping for a better showing. I thought you were going to arrange that, Magistrate.”
Still standing, Caldre pulled out his handkerchief and waved it several times until he was sure the officiator had seen the signal. Caldre turned back to the councilor and the king. “I have. You’ll see.” He sat back down and put his handkerchief away. “I’m still trying to recall why that last match was familiar. Something about a man with a sword fighting against a man with a staff…”
“Just drop it, Magistrate,” King Daimh said harshly, gripping the armrests of his chair so tightly his fingers turned white.
***
Sunshine’s anxiety spiked significantly as she watched Oakleaf and Ivor walk toward the middle of the field. She only knew Ivor’s name because Snapdragon had worked his way down into the crowd to get a closer look and heard people cheering for him. Unable to get close enough to see the matches, her younger brother had returned to the stands with his family.
Oakleaf had done well so far, but it seemed that Ivor was a formidable fighter, and she didn’t want to see her brother get hurt.
“I’m not sure I can watch,” Sunshine said.
Iolanthe put her arm around her daughter. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“What?” Snapdragon exclaimed. “How can you not watch?”
“Snap…” his mother said reproachfully.
The crowd erupted in cheers as the contestants raced to the edges of the circle to retrieve their weapons. Both selected two-handed broad swords. They worked their way back toward the center, swords at the ready. Ivor swung first. Oakleaf brought his sword up to block, and as the two wooden blades connected, Oakleaf’s sword shattered.
Obviously stunned, he was distracted just long enough for Ivor to let go of the sword with one hand and punch him, knocking him to the ground. Oakleaf brought his hands to his face and pulled them away slick with blood flowing from his broken nose. Ivor stood above him, sword raised. Even though Oakleaf had been knocked off his feet and the match was over, Ivor was going to keep attacking. Before Ivor could inflict more injury, the officiator stepped in and placed a hand on his chest to stop him. Ivor stared threateningly at the officiator a moment but then backed away, swinging the sword victoriously over his head.
***
Rayne didn’t get a chance to check on Oakleaf because he was due up next. He walked onto the field, carefully looking around. A man standing up in the king’s box caught his attention. It was the sharp-nosed man he had met at the castle the day before who thought Rayne looked familiar. What was his name again? Colder? Callous? Something like that. Whatever his name was, Rayne remembered he was a magistrate. He was waving a white handkerchief. Usually that meant someone was surrendering, but why would he be doing it?
Glancing around, Rayne saw one of the officiators looking at the magistrate as well, and nodding. While this seemed odd, it wasn’t as strange as what had happened to Oakleaf’s sword in the last match. It didn’t seem possible that even Ivor could swing hard enough to destroy the wooden blade. But what Rayne needed now was to focus on the matter at hand—and that was the man in front of him. Unlike the other participants Rayne had faced, his opponent wasn’t all that muscular. Rather, he was lean and spry. Rayne had watched him closely during the event and sensed they had similar strengths and weaknesses.
Once again, the officiator instructed the combatants and signaled them to start. Rayne rushed back to his edge of the circle and saw his options: a shield and a short sword. Picking up the sword, he noticed it felt too light in his hand, and a quick inspection of the blade revealed where it had been hollowed out. The shield also seemed flimsy, with the nails that held the leather strap to the wood nearly pulled out. Perhaps this was one of the tests, but he didn’t think so. He doubted his opponent from Erd was given the same poor quality of weapons. He turned and faced the center of the circle and saw his opponent was already on his way.
Instead of rushing out to meet him, Rayne stood at the edge, shield up and sword at the ready. His opponent didn’t seem fazed by Rayne’s actions and continued running toward him. When he got within a few steps, Rayne dropped the shield and sword on the ground, crouched down, lowered his shoulder, and let the other man’s shock and momentum work to his advantage. The man was completely surprised by the move. Rayne was able to duck under his opponent’s shield and sword and plant his shoulder in the man’s stomach. He pushed up with his legs and flipped the man over him and into the crowd. Several rows of people were knocked down in the process, and Rayne was already helping them up when the officiator came over and somewhat hesitantly declared him the winner.
***
“Did you see that?” Snapdragon cheered. “That was brilliant! Rayne totally caught him off guard.”
Sunshine wrung her hands nervously. She wanted Rayne to do well, but not too well. If he did well enough, he would become a royal guardian, and he wouldn’t be allowed to marry. She knew it was selfish of her, and of course, she would wait for him to retire if he became a royal guardian. Right now, however, she just didn’t want him to get hurt.
“Why didn’t he use his weapons?” she asked.
Alana chimed in, “I am wondering that too. It was very odd.”
Iolanthe had left the stands to check on Oakleaf. She hadn’t returned yet, so Sunshine was still anxious to know her brother’s condition.
Alana shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted at the scoreboard. “I can’t quite see from here, Snapdragon. How many more rounds are there?”
Snapdragon didn’t even look at the scoreboard. “This is the last match. It’s Ivor against Rayne.”
***
Standing next to his grandfather, Rayne waited for the
officiator to call him onto the field.
“Grandfather,” he said just loudly enough for Kelvin to hear, but no one else, “I think someone tampered with Oakleaf’s weapon and also mine from the last round.”
Kelvin nodded. “I was thinking the same thing, but I’m not sure there is anything we can do about it. After all, the officiators work for the king.”
“I saw the magistrate sitting up by the king wave his handkerchief to an officiator before my match,” Rayne said. “Do you think it was some sort of signal?”
Kelvin rubbed his chin for a moment. “Perhaps the king wants the participants from Erd to do well, so much so that he is willing to give you and Oakleaf inferior weapons. You could say the magistrate is waving the white flag because he is surrendering to the fact that his men can’t win in a fair fight.”
***
The officiator stood in the center of the circle and raised both hands, quieting the crowd. “It all comes down to this. The winner of this match will automatically become a royal guardian. After this event, the officiators will tabulate the scores, then announce the rest of those who have earned the rank of royal guardian from this year’s Mortentaun.”
He motioned for Rayne and Ivor to come forward. At that same moment, a man carrying a basket full of apples and strawberries on his back accidentally stepped in front of Ivor, who reacted by shoving the man out of the way. The merchant fell over and spilled his wares all over the ground. Rayne felt the urge to assist him, but Kelvin was already there, helping the man out of the circle. Rayne glanced up at the grandstand and again noticed the magistrate waving the white handkerchief.
The officiator said, “You both know the rules, so no point going over them again. May the best man win.”
“Oh, I will,” Ivor said, giving Rayne a shove in the chest. Rayne didn’t react, but instead set himself for the officiator’s signal.
The Hidden Sun (Bariwon Chronicles Book 1) Page 21