The Tourney

by Juliet Sem

  She kept her attention focused on Béjan and Laron as they exchanged a few lazy staff thrusts, testing each other. Laron darted in suddenly, his staff twirling around in his hands as he sought an opening. Béjan danced out of his way, swinging his own staff up and hitting a glancing blow along Laron's thigh before he spun away.

  Keestu looked up at the screen at the staccato crack of batons hitting each other. Sartik and Fernuin were standing toe to toe, their weapons blurring with speed as they fought. Fernuin gasped and stumbled back as one of Sartik's batons connected with his face and the other with his injured left shin. Blood sprayed with the hit then continued dribbling from his mouth, and Keestu silently rejoiced. It was short-lived, however, as Fernuin pretending to be more dazed by the blow than he was, staggered for effect, and Sartik grinned, his teeth showing whitely in his black face as he charged forward, only to find Fernuin's baton connecting with his dominant right arm with a crack. Sartik dropped that baton and his right arm fell, dangling at an odd angle, as Sartik bit his lip to keep from screaming. Fernuin's face split in a feral grin, and he concentrated on trying to hit the arm again. Sartik ended up retreating from Fernuin's advance, until Fernuin backed him up against the wall. Fernuin coldly and deliberately landed another hit on Sartik's broken arm, and this time, Sartik screamed. He desperately swung his remaining baton at Fernuin's face, leaving himself vulnerable to attack. Fernuin's high arm flashed down, the baton cracking across Sartik's face. Sartik screamed again, kicking out at Fernuin, connecting solidly with his injured shin. Fernuin limped away, allowing Sartik to leave the wall. Sartik charged Fernuin, who easily parried his single baton with one of his while the end of his other baton punched into Sartik's throat. Gagging, Sartik fell to the floor of the arena. The medics responded faster this time, intubating the suffocating Sartik so that he could breathe before they removed him from the arena and Fernuin was declared the winner again.

  Béjan and Laron continuing to trade blows with their staves, refusing to be distracted by the renewed jeers Fernuin received when he was announced winner of his second bout. Keestu leaned forward in her chair, as did Admiral Kurzon, studying their fighting technique. Laron tired, and he stepped back to catch his breath. Béjan pressed his advantage until one of his blows landed on Laron's hand, his thumb and several hand bones breaking with a snap that the first three rows of spectators could hear, and his staff slipped from his crippled grip and clattered to the ground. Béjan, his expression compassionate rather than triumphant, backed Laron up to the wall and very slowly put one end of his staff up against Laron's unprotected neck. Unable to continue fighting, Laron raised his good hand and called out. "I concede!" Béjan immediately dropped his staff, gently thumping Laron on his good arm as he left the arena on his own, his injured hand cradled in the other. He looked up and waved feebly with his good hand as the spectators cheered their good sportsmanship.

  "Winner, Béjan of Phaet," The Autocrat called out unnecessarily. "This means the final round will be between Béjan of Phaet with eight challenges and Fernuin of Vulo with none. Béjan will choose the arena, and Fernuin will choose the weapons. What say you?"

  "I'm going to stay right here," Béjan declared, "and finish the tourney where I started!" The crowd cheered his announcement.

  "I choose spears," Fernuin said sourly after the hubbub died down, glaring at Béjan. This set off a murmur in the crowd, and Keestu leaned towards a suddenly very worried Norinna. "What is it?"

  "Spears are the worst weapons allowed in the tourney," she explained to Keestu and her companions while the arenas were cleaned and people vied and bargained for the seats behind Béjan's family box, while a more orderly change of personnel occurred in the rows behind Keestu. "Fighters are more likely to end up maimed or killed using those. Since Béjan is the larger and more experienced fighter, Fernuin is choosing the weapon that will most likely strike a crippling or killing blow, because he knows he needs to do that if he's to defeat Béjan."

  Keestu shuddered in anticipation as Fernuin's small entourage moved to the box next to her. She pretended not to see Bott smiling at her, quickly looking elsewhere.

  Silence settled over the watchers as Béjan and Fernuin were searched and sealed into the arena. Norinna clutched at her stomach several times, and Keestu worried that the stress might be bringing on premature labor, but when she asked, Norinna told her it was just the baby kicking. She took one of Keestu's hands and placed it against her stomach, and after a few moments, Keestu felt a strong buffet against her palm. She smiled as she told Norinna, "He's going to be a great fighter--like his father."

  The weapons locker was opened, and each fighter took out a spear that was two meters long. Their blade edges gleamed in the sun, and they whooshed audibly as the fighters were allowed to warm up for a few moments before being told to go behind their lines.

  Keestu smiled as the Autocress called to the fighters, "Begin!" She hoped that Fernuin was irritated that a woman was officiating the most important fight of his life.

  Keestu saw to her dismay that Fernuin handled his spear with great ease, his stocky and muscular build and lower center of gravity countering the fact that he had to hold the spear off center so that the metal-tipped end could clear the ground when he swung it around. Béjan was intently studying how Fernuin handled his spear, keeping his own movements to a minimum as he warily began to circle closer to him. It seemed to Keestu that no one in the stands so much as moved, for she could hear the soft scrape of the fighters' shoes on the ground as they moved.

  Keestu was intently watching Fernuin, and she gasped when she saw him roll up onto the balls of his feet in preparation to charge. Béjan heard Keestu's gasp and his head jerked slightly, but he resolutely kept his eyes on Fernuin as the Vuloan abandoned stealth and darted forward, the point of his spear swinging around towards his opponent. Béjan brought his spear up, easily deflecting Fernuin's blade before jamming the butt into Fernuin's left shoulder. Fernuin grunted and scrambled out of the way before Béjan could bring his own point to bear, flexing his shoulder to test it for disability.

  The crowd let out an audible collective breath as Béjan landed the first blow of the final fight. Their relief was short-lived, however, as Fernuin, rather than taking more time to collect himself as most other fighters would, charged again, his spear rotating in a complex movement that Keestu couldn't follow, and this time it connected with Béjan's left leg, the cloth tearing as Béjan spun out of the way. Keestu saw his left thigh was bleeding, though it was a glancing blow.

  Fernuin raised his spear to examine the blood on it before rearranging his footing. He was favoring his left leg, and Keestu smiled grimly. It appeared that Gépar and Sartik had done more damage than was first apparent, and the lack of rest between rounds was working in Béjan's favor.

  However, Fernuin was determined, and he charged again, this time striking a blow to Béjan's right thigh with the butt end of his spear. Béjan fell, losing his spear as he rolled away from Fernuin's spear tip, which thumped loudly on the ground where Béjan's torso had been a second before. Fernuin absently kicked Béjan's spear with a practiced foot, and it rolled to the edge of the arena behind him with a slight clatter as Fernuin attacked the now unarmed Béjan, who had regained his feet while Fernuin was pushing his weapon away, and now Fernuin's spear was wheeling about in a blur as he eagerly looked for an opening.

  Rather than retreating from the deadly spear as Keestu felt he ought, Béjan ran at Fernuin, grappling with him, his hands immobilizing the dangerous spear as he kicked out viciously with his right leg, connecting with Fernuin's left shin precisely over the torn cloth. Fernuin yelped and fell backwards, his spear lashing out as Béjan released it so that Fernuin could fall heavily to the ground. Expecting this move, Béjan leaped up and over it, landing and rolling so he could run to retrieve his spear.

  Fernuin regained his feet with impressive speed and ran at Béjan's exposed back. The crowd shrieked, and Béjan, in an economy of movement, swung the bu
tt end of his staff up with his back still turned, ramming it into Fernuin's stomach as he had thrown his arms up in order to bring the spear down on Béjan in what would be a killing or crippling blow to his neck and shoulder. Fernuin's forward charge made the strike an effective one. His spear flew from his grip, hitting the ground at the same time as he did, his head striking with an audible thump. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he went limp.

  Not one to be fooled, Béjan placed his spear's butt end on Fernuin's neck and nudged him hard with his foot, then reached down cautiously to deliver a hard slap to his face. Fernuin didn't react; he wasn't bluffing this time.

  "And Béjan of Phaet wins the final battle," the Autocrat called out. "I welcome you, my brother ruler!"

  The crowd leapt to its feet, loudly cheering Béjan, who raised his spear over his head as he whirled around in triumph, his face first shocked, then radiant as he realized he had won and was now the supreme ruler of the Autocracy.

  Norinna was on her feet, yelling, "He did it! It's been five generations since Phaet gave us our last leader, an Autocress!"

  Keestu beamed at her. "Congratulations! I'm sure he'll make a magnificent ruler."

  "And now," the Autocress began, "We will retire from the arena and prepare for the ceremony of succession."

  The crowd quieted to hear her announcement of when and where it would take place.

  Keestu saw that Fernuin was finally stirring. He sat up groggily, rubbing the back of his head. He rolled to his hands and knees with difficulty and crawled towards the edge of the arena, but Keestu felt little sympathy for him. She turned her attention back to the Autocress, but as she did, two things happened in quick succession. First, Fernuin fumbled his spear into his grip, woozily regained his feet and charged at Béjan's back, holding his spear straight in front of him for a deadly thrust, and secondly Pulon, who was intently watching his father, jumped out of his seat, cupped his hands to his mouth, and yelled, "Béjan! Behind you!"

  Somehow, over the screams of the crowd, Béjan heard him. He spun, then sidestepped, barely dodging Fernuin's spear, which viciously ripped across his lower back rather than impaling him as Fernuin had intended. Béjan instinctively brought his own spear around and down as he finished turning to face Fernuin. The spear point flashed as it plunged into the left side of Fernuin's neck with a wet ripping sound. Béjan instinctively yanked it out, a look of horror on his face as he saw the result. Blood spouted from the wound, and Fernuin's eyes rolled up into his head as he fell face forward, his body twitching in the spasms of death as blood continued pumping from his fatal neck wound.

  Many people in the crowd screamed with fright at Fernuin's unexpected attack and Béjan's unintentionally fatal counter. Keestu looked at Fernuin again, saw he had stopped moving, his blood soaking into the ground, staining it a darker hue.

  Norinna's face was ashen as Keestu turned to her in shock. "I thought the fight was over?"

  "It was, but Fernuin wanted to take the position of Autocrat by force," Norinna said, her voice choked with tears. "Since Fernuin was the runner up, if something were to happen to Béjan, Fernuin would become Autocrat. Murder for this reason has been suspected in the past, but never openly tried, certainly not at the tourney!" She sank back down to her seat, shaking with reaction.

  Keestu put a comforting hand on Norinna's shoulder, murmuring to her, "He's okay, Norinna. Breathe deep and try to relax."

  Shuddering with reaction, Norinna could only gesture feebly towards the box next to them.

  Keestu turned to the box beside them as Bott screamed as the implications of Fernuin's death sank in. She jumped out of the stands with more agility than Keestu expected and charged towards the arena, running to the security screen and throwing herself on it. Her scream cut off abruptly as she was electrocuted by the still active screen, her body stiffening as it received a fatal charge before it was switched off by the Autocrat. She fell to the ground with limp finality. Shocked, Keestu's eyes turned to the box seats beside her, and she saw an expression of pity on Pulon's face, and oddly one of relief on Shariel's as they witnessed the death of their mother shortly after the death of their father.

  Still reeling from the violence of this turn of events, Keestu surprised herself as she calmly blocked Norinna's view of the arena and asked her, "Who is the runner up now?"

  However, she was relieved when Norinna focused on her question rather than on the dreadful things going on in the area, her voice steadying as she spoke. "It is Sartik, who was beaten by Fernuin in the second round, then Laron who was beaten by Béjan, though Laron endured more challenges prior to the Tourney than Sartik; those positions are based on tradition. After that, however, it's determined by the length of time the rest of battles were, with the winner of the one lasting the longest followed by the man he beat being next in line, then moving to the next longest battle, and so forth."

  "Won't Sartik's wound prevent him from meeting challenge next month, and so he'll drop rank? Doesn't that mean his Praten, Atrilin, is now the second in line?"

  "While it's true that Sartik will most likely drop rank next month if his arm isn't healed, the tourney is a fight separate from all planetary challenges, and therefore its results aren't affected by any planetary challenges that happen subsequent to it."

  The medics arrived to attend to Fernuin and Bott, but their efforts were in vain; both were dead. They turned to tend to Béjan, removing his shirt and revealing a long cut on his lower back just below his rib cage that was bleeding profusely. However, it was a shallow wound, as Pulon's yell had given Béjan adequate warning to dodge the worst of the attack.

  Béjan waved the medics away after a compression bandage was tied around his waist to stop the bleeding, and still shirtless, he turned to Pulon and saluted him with an overhead whirl of the spear, planting it firmly on the ground beside him as he bowed his head. Pulon broke out into a surprised smile as the crowd gasped at Béjan's salute of Pulon, then shrieked approval.

  "What is it?"

  "Since Pulon saved Béjan's life by interceding against the leader of his own planet, a man from his own family, he has proven himself to be a true believer in the Autocracy's order," Norinna said, her shaking eased as she saw Béjan's wounds weren't life threatening. "By saluting him, Béjan has granted him the highest honor in our society, Believer In Autocratic Order. He will be allowed to wear a special rank badge for the rest of his life identifying him as such, no matter what rank he holds. Not many are given."

  The shock of the deaths at the tourney wore off after the bodies were removed, and Keestu followed Norinna to the palace's interior where the ceremony of succession was to immediately take place.

  A long and wide palace corridor had been cleared of everything but a raised dais that had been built at one end. Keestu, as a visitor and guest of the winner, was given a position at the front. The Autocress and Autocrat entered, standing beside two battered wooden thrones that had seen better days with tattered and faded planetary banners on poles beside them. Keestu looked down the gallery as Herini and Béjan entered, flanked by their seconds who were carrying equally faded and tattered banners in their planet's colors. They didn't hesitate, but walked with firm strides down the open corridor, smiling at the cheering witnesses lining both sides.

  Keestu saw as they passed her that they had changed their clothing to display their new rank badges, and a glance at Dinus as he passed her and Norinna showed he also wore his new rank badge as Prató of Phaet.

  The new leaders climbed the dais without hesitation and stood in front of their predecessors, who solemnly handed their jeweled spears to them, motioning for them to be seated as they exchanged the old banners for the new.

  "And as it has been done since time immemorial," the Autocress said, "We pass rule on to the next generation."

  "We charge you, our successors, with leading the Autocracy in good faith for the next fifty years," the Autocrat concluded.

  In a practiced motion, the Autocress and Autocrat
handed their banners to men waiting to take them before they began applauding their new leaders. Keestu, hopeful for a bright future for her people with these new allies, gladly joined the celebration.

  The End

  Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, would you please consider writing a review for it on your favorite retailer's site? Your opinion is important not only to me, but to others who consider reading this book. Thanks so much.

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  JulietSem.wordpress.com

  Cover art: The Cover collection.

  About the Author

  Juliet Sem began writing as a young teen to alleviate boredom she experienced in school after she wasn't allowed to skip grades. At the time, most of the major female characters in books she read were written as beautiful but useless in conflict. Her sci-fi series, including The Tourney, Crisis On Sandar, Contested Crown, and Rue's Bargain, is the result of Juliet's desire to write stories featuring strong female characters who are more than just eye candy waiting around for men to come rescue them. She lives in Arizona with her husband and cat. She continues to read and watch science fiction stories and is relieved that strong female lead characters are no longer the exception in books, movies, and TV shows.

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  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank the following people: Dan Munsell for being my test reader. Wallace Sem and Carolyn Parker for always being there. Ken Ekman, Deb Kathan, Rob Turpin, Deb Cowell, Jessica Leary, Sonny Cody, Jessica Owen, Deb Baker, Brenda Lawrence, Steve Orth, Veronica and Dave Zelman, Terri and Rick Rashid, Cindy Tuttle Rollins, Heidi Schuette, Sara Siegel, and all the other Mountain Milers. Cindy Alward. Lisa Young, Tammy Hellenthal, and Ellen Marie Blair. NATRA and its many wonderful people. August Zadra, Jimmy Leahey, Craig Carter, John Blasucci, Suzanne and Dennis DeYoung.