Yngve, AR - Darc Ages

by Darc Ages (lit)

  He caught Darc's eyes, giving him a pleading look. Darc lowered his gaze - he could not risk getting entangled in petty palace intrigues, nor did he want to. But he felt a vague solidarity with Andon's plight, them both being outsiders.

  Bor went on in the same ebullient vein: "The second contender of this year is unknown, but is said to be a relative from the lower nobility, in search of glory. He wishes to be anonymous. Thus we welcome - the nameless one!"

  The crowd's response was uncertain, but the people kept murmuring and whispering about the new stranger for a while. Tharlos nodded at his nameless comrade, who responded by raising his arm and sword once. He did not say a word; his mouth only moved to breathe.

  Dohan, already sweating in his artificially cooled armor, was hit by a dreadful thought: Could that be the yellow knight in Azuch's dream? Or the blue one? Dohan knew his father would have shamed him for doubting the moment before a fight. Nevertheless, he could not shake the feeling that this was a special day, with more at stake than just the champion title.

  He whispered a prayer to himself: "Great Goddess, give me strength and I will attend all masses, sing your praise every day. Singing King, I pray for your return, your name is my shield, your voice is my sword." He was not the only one to pray for victory that day.

  Tharlos summoned the support of another deity. "O Koban-Jem," he whispered, "help me destroy my enemies and I swear to honor you, and wreak destruction on all your foes. Death to all enemies!"

  Bor signaled silence, and declared: "And now, the knights may choose a fellow fighter to join him in combat! The opponents will then be matched."

  The knights teamed up; it was rare for a fighter to go it alone. The Orbes brothers, as expected, formed a team, as did Tharlos Pasko and the nameless knight. Azuch Fache chose Dohan Damon as his fighting partner; Dohan bowed in gratitude. He had been beaten by Azuch in a past joust, but considered it an honor to be defeated by one of his heroes. This left Kamo Yota alone; he did not seem to be looking for a team member anyway.

  Librian, sitting just behind Bor's chair, wrote down the team settings in the protocol. His aged eyes could hardly tell one knight from another, so young Eveli Damon had to whisper the settings in his ear. The opposing teams were now matched by Bor Damon: He announced that first, the Orbes brothers would meet Kamo Yota. They would decide themselves whether to fight Yota one at a time, or together - though the second option would be regarded as gross cowardice. They opted for the first choice, but did not have to say who would fight first.

  The winner of the first duel would be ranked Contender to the championship, and get the chance to challenge the champion in one year's time. After that, Azuch and Dohan would meet Tharlos and the nameless one - the winner of that fight would become this year's new champion. The audience applauded his decision; it was widely known that Tharlos claimed the right to a return match against Dohan. If he won this year, his humiliating defeat of last year would be forgotten.

  The musicians played a new fanfare. A prolonged drum roll accompanied the first match of fighters, as they ignited their whining jetpacks and hovered down into the pit. Tharlos' nameless companion lagged behind, and landed last of all. Darc noticed that the dirt walls and floor of the pit were recently hosed down with water. He assumed the reason for this was to keep the armor dust-free, so that it would deflect laser-beams for as long as possible. He also observed, that many of the nobles put on mirrored eyeshades - even Bor himself. Darc had no eye protection. He grew a little nervous, when he saw the three knights touch down on each sides of the fighting ground.

  Bor called out: "Begin!"

  "Stop, little brother!"

  Saburé Orbes stretched out his sword, blocking his eager younger brother's attempt to step before him. He wanted to try and wear down their opponent first, before giving Kensaburé a chance to fight the much more experienced Kamo Yota.

  Kamo, remaining still fifty meters away, immediately went into position. He took cover behind his high shield, and aimed his right-arm gun at the elder brother. He fired - one, two, three quick pulses with one-second intervals. The brothers deflected the fire with their shields and charged forward.

  Two pulses missed, one hit Kensaburé's shield and bounced off into the dirt wall. The audience applauded the first hit of the day. The Orbes brothers continued their charge, clanking and thumping at a running-speed of almost three meters per second. Kamo waited, taking occasional potshots.

  Kensaburé's clumsy false start had indicated the brothers' strategy: confuse Kamo by charging both at once, then let Saburé attack while Kensaburé retreated to the background.

  Less than ten meters away from Kamo, the brothers split directions. In the same instant, Kamo flew up above their heads; dirt sprayed all over them. The two brothers ignited their jetpacks and followed - but the younger brother was not quick enough. Suddenly, Kamo dived feet-first at the ascending Kensaburé, who panicked and fired up at him. Too late - Kamo swung down his shield and struck Kensaburés helmet. His ascent was stopped dead, and he crashed backwards into the dirt. The crowd half gasped, half cheered.

  Darc winced at the nasty noise of the crash-landing knight; he feared the victim's neck had snapped, despite his cushioned armor. As Kamo swung around and hovered down to the ground, he was ready to meet the elder opponent. Saburé was thrown off balance now, furious at the sight of his injured brother - and forgot his self-control. He gave a blood-curdling battle cry - distorted into an inhuman roar by his built-in amplifier - and flew straight onto the standing enemy in a barrage of laser pulses.

  Kamo dodged him by launching upward into the air again, with an impressive sideways movement that caught Saburé by surprise - and before Saburé had managed to turn and block, Kamo had scored several laser hits in his right side. One of the hits caused Saburé's laser-gun to explode in a puff of smoke - the impetus made him spin away from Kamo and almost fall. The audience gasped collectively. In the last instant, Saburé caught his balance and landed, nearly stumbling on his fallen brother.

  He raised his shield, and his enhanced voice echoed across the pit: "Wait! Lord Damon! I must see to my brother!"

  Bor held up his arms. "Hold the fighting," he ordered calmly. Bor was accustomed to such spectacles, and knew that Saburé's plea would awake the sympathy of the commoner audience. Kamo consented and stepped back, lowering his guard. Saburé kneeled down and unscrewed Kensaburé's helmet. The younger brother was conscious, but dizzy.

  "I'm fine," he lied - and groaned when he tried to sit up. "I can't get my armor going."

  Kensaburé's neck was protected by a shock-absorbent collar, but it was evident that the fall had caused a whiplash or minor concussion. His movements were too weak to activate the armor's response.

  Saburé asked: "Can you feel your legs?"

  Kensaburé tensed his muscles, then said: "Yes."

  "Do not move! If you try to rise with the help of the motors, you risk permanent injury. Lie still, wait for the doctors."

  "But -"

  "You did well, little brother. There was nothing shameful about your first battle." Saburé grinned grimly, patting his brother's armored shoulder: "Now let me beat the crap out of the bastard who hurt you."

  Without listening to his brother's objections, Saburé stood up and disconnected his useless laser-gun.

  "I challenge you with sword only," he shouted at Kamo. "You dare to accept?"

  Without a word, Kamo quickly loosened his gun and threw it to the ground. He held his shield in a diagonal position, and raised his broadsword - ready to strike.

  "Continue!" said the judge.

  Saburé moved sideways, away from his brother; Kamo followed from a distance of several meters. When they were in the middle of the pit, the fighters stopped for a moment. The audience was dead silent; Lord Orbes and his wife held each other's hands, their round faces pale white. Darc realized that he himself was in a cold sweat. And the knights attacked, launching up above ground level like huge robots, jetpacks scr
eeching at an ear-grating pitch. In mid-air, their swords met with a resounding, sharp clang. They bounced off each other, regained their balance, sank down in wide arcs, touched the ground - and took off again.

  The combatants crashed into each other, shields first - Kamo lost control, spun away at a sloping angle, shot away - when he broke his fall, he had to land at the far corner of the pit.

  "He must be out of fuel now," Bor said aside to his neighbors. "If Saburé saves his last drops and walks the distance, he cannot lose."

  But to their disappointment, Saburé failed to see the opportunity. He spent his last jet fuel flying across the pit - running out of it just before he could reach the retreating Kamo. Shielding himself from the enemy fire, Saburé sank heavily to the ground - and Kamo suddenly lunged forward. Just before Saburé's metal feet could touch down, Kamo slammed shield-first into his body and tipped him over. A quick blow from Kamo's sword-hilt smashed the visor of the fallen man's helmet - and his face was exposed.

  Kamo put one armored hand on Saburé's bloodied jaw, ready to crush his throat.

  "Yield!" he snarled.

  "I yield," gasped Saburé - he had no choice.

  Bor seemed a little dazed by the brutality of his ally's defeat, but he knew what to say. He took off his eyeshades.

  "The duel is over. I hereby declare Sir Kamo Yota the glorious and honorable winner!"

  The crowd was jubilant. Kamo bowed to his fallen opponents; then he fastened the family banner to his sword and waved it over his head. Lord Orbes was white-faced but nevertheless bowed to Lord Yota, acknowledging his son's skill. Ue Yota, a slightly built, gray-haired man, bowed deeply.

  "Excuse my son's violent behavior," Ue said tersely over the noise of the crowd, "but he is not yet fully taught. I will send my best physician to see to your children's injuries." Orbes and his wife gave the Yota family their mute thanks. The Yota and Orbes teams hurried down the ramp to the pit floor. The injured Orbes brothers, still in armor, were carried away on electrically powered carts. Kamo followed them up and away from the arena.

  "And now," Bor announced, "the second match of fighters may enter the pit."

  He put his shades back over his eyes. Darc stood up, shocked. Was Bor going to risk his only son's life without hesitation? He couldn't believe it.

  He asked little Eveli, who only seemed excited by the fight she had witnessed: "Is your brother really prepared for this? How many jousts has he fought?"

  She looked up at Darc with thinly disguised contempt. "This is his second joust. He beat Tharlos last year, and he will do it again."

  "I hope so, girl. I really hope so."

  "Don't you dare speak that way to me, commoner!" she snapped, her blue eyes giving him a fiery glare.

  "Excuse me, Your Universal Highness," Darc said with a deadpan expression, and sat down before the stunned girl could react.

  Chapter 9

  "Begin!"

  On Bor's command, the next two knight teams threw themselves into the fight. Dohan gave out a battlecry and charged at Tharlos, with his shield up in front of him. Without hesitation, Azuch ran next to him.

  Tharlos and the nameless one took cover behind their tall shields, and fired. Azuch and Dohan closed in, in a zigzag movement so agile it belied the heaviness of their armor. Most of Tharlos' shots missed, but the nameless one scored several hits - which bounced off the shields. Azuch and Dohan thundered onward. Darc flinched instinctively when a laser pulse ricocheted up into the air, almost scorching the canvas roof of the lodge. Nobody else seemed to mind.

  Unheard by the audience, Tharlos ordered his companion: "On my command... now! "

  Dohan expected his opponents to fly up; but they surprised him. Simultaneously, Tharlos and the nameless one lunged forward, swinging their swords at waist level. Dohan backed, parrying the swings with his shield. Azuch was quick: his sword clashed with the nameless one's blade.

  The clang rang across the pit - the crowd roared.

  "Get him!" Bor shouted.

  "Knock his head off!" Eveli screamed in her little-girl voice.

  "Jesus," Darc muttered.

  "Tharlos! Tharlos!" a Pasko nobleman chanted.

  Andon Pasko sat silent, bewildered and unsure of whom to support. The fighters clashed swords again and again, moving quickly back, forth, sideways, without getting an opening - all the time staying close up to each other, so that neither could aim a laser shot. Dohan went in close, and locked Tharlos' sword and shield with his own. They struggled, groaning in step with the whining and hissing of their armor motors.

  "I'll kill you, northern Damon scum..." Tharlos hissed between gulps of air.

  Meanwhile, the nameless knight gained his first advantage over Azuch. The old champion kept backing, staying close, as the opponent hacked relentlessly at his battered shield. So strong were the blows, that Azuch shook with each impact. He knew that if he retreated too far, the nameless one might get the space to shoot - and pierce Azuch's damaged shield. But the crowd's attention was fixed on Dohan and Tharlos. The young enemies kept stumbling back and forth in deadlock. Azuch's shield-arm began to tire.

  Darc tried to alert the city lord: "Bor! There's something wrong about the nameless one!"

  Bor did not answer; he was too focused on his son's efforts. Then, Tharlos pumped with his toes inside his suit, and triggered a special switch. With a metallic twang, a grappling hook shot out from inside his right leg-armor - and locked around Dohan's left leg. Dohan was taken by surprise - this was a trick Tharlos had not tried before. Tharlos pulled with his foot; Dohan managed a counter-movement and kept his balance.

  Darc stood up, pointing in anger at the pit: " Foul! You've got to stop this, Bor!"

  Bor made an irritated gesture. "It's part of the game, you fool! Dohan knows what to do!"

  "Give him a kidney-blow, Dohan!" Eveli shouted.

  The fighters' tug-of-war lasted several moments - until Tharlos tripped Dohan by releasing a length of the coiled wire that locked them together. Dohan's left foot flew backwards, and Tharlos leaped back as his victim stumbled forward. In the same moment he raised his sword to chop down at Dohan's head. The crowd gasped.

  Dohan pumped with his toes, igniting his jetpack. Angled almost horizontally, the jet thrust pushed him headfirst into Tharlos' metal chest with a crashing thud - then he stabilized the weight of his feet downward, and lifted up into the air. The jet exhaust sprayed dirt all over Tharlos' armor, rendering it vulnerable to lasers. Bor and his family caught their breath - then it was Tharlos' time to be taken by surprise. He had not bothered to make the grappling hook and wire detachable, only strong enough - so when Dohan lifted, Tharlos' right leg was pulled along. Reflexively, Dohan increased the pull of his jets - slowly dragging Tharlos, armor and all, upside-down into the air. Tharlos dangled his arms and left leg frantically, screaming and cursing in panicked fury.

  The audience exploded with laughter at the hilarious sight - Dohan had exceeded the mockery and skill of last year's duel. The Paskos were stunned, dumbstruck. But Darc saw something else as well. The nameless knight's mechanical hacking had forced Azuch to his knees; in the next second, his blade hit Azuch's shoulder pad and crushed something inside. Azuch wailed with deep pain. Darc's upset mind was fully alert now, heading straight for a flash of intuition. When he noticed the deeper imprints left by the nameless fighter's boots, the insight hit him: The nameless one weighs a ton.

  Azuch's cry of pain caught Dohan's attention through the noise of his jetpack. He chopped off the connecting wire with a single sword swipe - Tharlos crashed down in the dirt, alive but soundly beaten.

  Darc grasped Bor's shoulder: "Listen, Bor! The nameless one is -"

  Bor cut him off: " Lachtfot! Lock up this troublemaker now!"

  Dohan ignored Tharlos, and jet-jumped through the air to aid the fallen champion.

  Tharlos, unable to rise up, shouted hoarsely: "Cripple Dohan... now! "

  The nameless knight turned to meet Dohan's flying att
ack. The Damon knight came down feet-first with his sword arm raised to strike at the enemy's chest plate. The nameless one parried with incredible swiftness. Just as Dohan's boots thumped into the ground, their swords met. The clash was extremely powerful, resounding like a small church bell - Dohan felt the vibration through his armored glove, almost breaking the wrist mechanism.

  Staggering backward, the nameless one stayed on his feet. Azuch Fache limped to the edge of the pit, his sword-arm hanging useless by his side. Meanwhile, Darc pushed his way past the guest chairs, escaping Lachtfot's lean but very strong steel hands.

  "Excuse me - sorry! - make way!"

  "Please come with me, master Darc," the robot insisted. The even heavier servant Surabot loomed at the back exit to the lodge, his red-glowing visorplate flickering ominously. Darc moved to the front rail, gripped it with both hands, vaulted across, and landed on the grass below. Next to the main lodge, the vendor he had seen before stood watching the game from behind a barrel. He had his box hanging in front of his chest - and was holding his large paper bullhorn. Darc rushed over and snatched the horn.

  "Gimme that!"

  "Hey!"

  Darc ran the few steps to the edge of the pit, where Dohan and the nameless fighter were clashing blades with increasing fury. The nameless one seemed to be breathing a little faster, but his blows did not weaken.

  A sudden high side-blow hit Dohan's head and wriggled his helmet loose. The audience gasped - but by some miracle, Dohan was unscathed. The head braces inside had protected his skull and neck, but the helmet and visor were cracked and might fall off any moment. Dohan shrugged off the shock and struck another lightning blow against the opponent's shield.

  "Fall then, you fool! Do you want me to kill you?" he shouted. Dohan was getting tired fast, soaked with sweat - he could not keep slugging it out for long. Darc looked at the situation for three seconds; that was enough to fully convince him.