by S E Zbasnik
It looked as if someone cut off his lower legs and slapped feet onto his knees, the rounded bottom threatening to swallow it all whole. Meanwhile, his head was practically pointed, the jowls swooping downward like a wet sack piled on his shoulders. Hayley wondered if she jabbed at the man to try and topple him over he’d just pop on back up like a bobber.
His lips lifted in a sneer as he eyed up Gavin. “Knight,” was all he’d say, his voice spitting with venom.
Gavin shrugged it off and turned to the side of beef the Count brought with. When a hand emerged from the sunburnt walking muscle, Hayley skittered in surprise. She had no idea it was a person under there. The leathers wrapped around him were dyed a crimson red, crinkled and faded at edges like the fat in an uncooked roast.
While she tried to hide behind Gringolet, her knight approached the gargantuan man with a hearty handshake. “Pleasure to meet you…?” he prompted the walking butcher shop to fill in the blank.
It was the Count who trampled over it, “This is my champion, whom you will be fighting.”
Gavin blinked his eyes rapidly and sighed, “I am aware of that, my Lord. I merely wished to greet him.”
“Don’t concern yourself with that. I know Anne thinks she’s got one up on me, but mark my words boy,” the Count spat the word at Gavin — who looked like he could rip the man up out of his gilded shoes, and toss him into the sun, “I will win this.”
Not even breaking a sweat or his half smile, Gavin bent his head, “I wish you luck.”
Growling, the Count stomped off, snapping his fingers at the still nameless bear he shaved and pressed a sword into the paw of. Gavin waited until the pair stepped out of the stables before he sighed and faded. “I suppose it shall be swords then.” Seeming unconcerned, he reached for the belt to loop on his scabbard.
“You have to fight…to fight that?!” Hayley shrieked. If someone who looked like that came after her she’d…be dead. She’d probably kick a lot, but it’d be like trying to murder a tower.
Her knight leaned close to her, their backs turned to the stampeding horde coming to watch this deathmatch, and he winked. “Don’t worry. Just because they are big doesn’t mean they are invulnerable. Even the tiniest person can do tremendous damage.” He said that last bit right at her causing Hayley to blush bright.
“Ser Gavin,” the Lady Anne’s voice rang out like a bell. Was it Hayley’s imagination or did she take the time to put on pearls and a swipe of rouge? Her face looked brighter than when they first strolled in. Beside her came the rest — the knights and their squires, Larissa included, as well as some that looked like servants and average people. Hayley had no idea who any of them were, but they all clumped together while forming a circle around the Lady’s champion.
Unsheathing his sword, Gavin gave it a quick twist through the air. It had to be as sharp as a country church choir for how often Hayley dragged the whetstone over it. Still, he tipped it to the side to check while the Lady stampeded towards him. “Thank you for coming to my aid,” she said as if he had a choice.
He waved her muted gratitude away and lifted his head. “It is no matter…” he began when the count and his nameless giant approached. It had to be Hayley’s imagination that the very ground shuddered with each step of the massive man. More or less.
The pear count scrabbled over to Anne, his finger jabbing at her perfumed face as the pair squabbled about whatever brought this on. Gavin remained stoic, his chest out and shoulders back while surveying the future opponent. All around the little paddock the others circled, forming a human barrier for the combatants. Was Hayley supposed to remain back here? Pass her knight a weapon, or…if he fell, take charge?
Oh god, was this to the death?
She whipped her head at him, terrified of the answer, of where it’d put her if he fell, when Gavin chuckled. “You need not wait back here. Go and stand with your friends.”
Hayley pursed her lips, she didn’t have any friends, but…between the mountain of meat and her knight she didn’t want to be caught anywhere close when they struck. Bobbing her head, she skittered through the line of people and stood right beside Ser Frederick.
He clucked his tongue. “I see our dear Gavin has gotten himself into another sticky spot.”
“Does he do these often?” Hayley asked. He seemed steady, almost bored with the routine, but there were blades and armor involved. Would she be expected to do this shit? Fight noble’s battles for them?
“When was the last one?” Frederick tipped his head back to the slinking sky, “Two months hence? He is a favorite choice, not that he comes cheap.” Something in that sentence caused the man to snicker, his eyes dancing in glee as he stared at Hayley but she missed it.
The two squabbling nobles slapped their hands together, seeming to shift the tension. All the others come to watch stood up higher and Gavin reached out to take the mountain’s hand. Both shook like they were the only ones capable of civility. With measured steps, the pair walked into the middle of the paddock, swords at the ready and stances wide.
A hand landed on her shoulder and Hayley glanced over to find it was Frederick gripping to her as he lowered towards her ear, “Watch closely. Not just his arm position but his feet as well.”
With that bit of wisdom, Frederick released her, but Hayley rubbed where his hand had been, feeling a sting. In doing so, her head twisted back to spot Larissa and Marco standing side by side. Larissa had the most pickle-pinched face on. How dare that upstart be right up front for the fight. Subtly, Hayley turned over her shoulder and stuck her tongue out when a great clang rang through the air.
She whipped her head back to watch Gavin’s arms both flexing as powerfully as when he climbed the rope. His sword rattled in his grip while the mountain’s met it flat on. They stared into each other’s eyes before ripping their blades free of the stalemate. Gavin swung his foot to the left, the right leg barely lifting upon the ball, when the mountain struck again. His slash aimed for Gavin’s exposed side and Hayley’s heart leapt into her throat. Just before the mountain’s sword could strike, Gavin slipped away, but they all watched at how close it was.
The breeze from the strike rattled the mail, causing the entire structure to jangle in discord. Gavin frowned and placed his balancing hand to it to stop the noise, which was when the mountain lashed out again. It wasn’t with his sword, but his foot. A metal encased boot came digging right for Gavin’s stomach.
“No!” Hayley shouted. She leapt forward, the shoe swiping against her knight’s belly even as he dodged most of the blow. But some had to have hit as he scattered back into the crowd. Hands cushioned him from falling, wrapping around Gavin’s side and arms before he could struggle in air to keep going.
The mountain’s lips cracked, revealing a mottled smile while the Count placed his fingers in his mouth and whistled. “Yes! Give it to him!”
Both Hayley and the lady Anne glared at the monster who caused this, while the rest of the audience kept focused on the fight. The swords swung fast, the mountain now putting his all into it. One towards the head, which Gavin blocked as easily as he had in the meadow. But the mountain rebounded fast, aiming for the gut again. What did he have against Gavin’s stomach? Was he mad how flat it was in comparison?
This time Gavin flinched away, one foot slamming forward allowing his body to twist and sword arm the room to parry the attack. Hayley was about to cheer when the mountain lashed out with his free hand and punched clean into Gavin’s shoulder.
The knight clattered to the ground, groaning at the attack seizing up his arm and the entire audience went deathly quiet. Gavin’s head bowed, his knee catching him from falling fully on his stomach while he flexed his left hand. The count shouted, “That’s it. Call it! The creek is mine.”
Lady Anne looked about to fume at him when Gavin extended the hand from his bruised shoulder. “Hold please.” He whipped his head up, the amber eyes glaring deep into the mountain’s. “I am not yet finished.”
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nbsp; “For all the holy…” the count snarled. “Eli!” he shouted probably at the mountain, “kill him already!”
“No!” Hayley screamed, prepared to launch forward when hands wrapped around her stomach. She tried to fight it off, but the grip was strong. All she could do was watch helplessly as the mountain of Eli raised both hands up high while clutching his sword. Gavin didn’t move, his head gazing at nothing while he took in a breath. Ripping through the air, Eli drove the blade down fast.
Hayley cringed, not ready to watch him die, to watch anyone die. It was aimed for Gavin’s skull which…suddenly wasn’t there. She had to blink rapidly to trail the man moving so fast to avoid the blade it looked like a blur. Eli’s sword drove not into Gavin but the ground itself. Before the mountain of man could try and stop himself, or yank it free, Gavin’s boot lashed out for the gigantic knee.
A crunching pop broke from the mountain, Eli screaming in agony as he reached for his no doubt dislocated knee. But he was met with a smash of Gavin’s fist to his jaw. The massive man’s head snapped backwards, his eyes rolling back into his skull just before he landed on the ground with a great thud. Finally, Gavin rose fully to his feet and stood, sword pointed at the downed mountain’s neck.
“Yield,” he said.
“I…” Eli began before the Count shouted.
“What are you doing?! Don’t you give up now! Get up and kill him!”
Gavin, mud swiped against his arm, blood trickling from a cut to his cheek, glanced an eye to the Count, before focusing fully upon the man at his mercy. “Yield, or die.”
Swallowing deep, the mountain extended both his hands flat upon the earth. “I give,” he said, his voice trembling.
With a nod of his head, Gavin tugged his sword away. To the man he nearly split open like a sausage he dropped his hand. Eli glanced at it a moment before taking it, and the man who punched and kicked him helped the mountain back to its peak. The count was livid, spittle spraying clear across the paddock while he hopped on his short legs.
“You’re a waste of coin. You’ll get nothing from me!” he shouted, waving a finger at Eli.
“Your Lordship.” Gavin struck his chin higher. Moving as if he were a god stalking the lands of the earth, Gavin walked towards the shriveling count. “You will pay him for his duty.”
“Or what?” the count shot out, but he was already crumpled in tighter to his shoulders, clearly scared out of his wits.
Gavin swung the blade in his hand as if he were merely working out an itch, but it drew the count’s eyes to it. “You would not like the consequences,” he said, his tongue lapping against his lips.
Snarling like a rabid dog, the count yanked a coin purse off his belt and hurled it at the mountain’s feet. It split open, copper and silver catching in the bleeding sunlight while the man spat, “There, take it. But you’ll never work again, you worthless scrap of hide!”
With his barely spoken threat given, the count stormed off, his tiny legs paddling as fast as possible. The mountain bent down and scooped the coins into his massive hand. He gave a curt nod to Gavin who returned it with a smile.
A clap started beside Hayley. She spun to the man who began it the same time Gavin did, both finding a great smile on Frederick’s face. He increased the speed of his applause, the rest of the audience joining in for a roaring congratulations to the winner. Hayley moved to step away when she felt the hands still on her.
She’d assumed it was Frederick keeping her safe, but he was too busy still clapping at Gavin even as her knight blushed from the attention. Tugging forward from the snare, the hands dropped off her, giving Hayley the chance to spin around. Marco’s eyes were rolling to the heavens, his cheeks olive-pink as he moved to slot his grabby paws behind his back.
“What…?” Hayley said, jabbing at him.
“You were, I thought that you…I didn’t want you to…” Whatever he was saying mumbled into a pile of slush.
“Don’t ever—” she began when her knight shouted for her.
“Squire!”
In the chance Marco got grabby again, Hayley dashed for her knight’s side. Gavin was taking his time, marching head high and slowly towards the stable. Before she had a chance to slip in to see what he wanted, Frederick arrived.
A friendly clap to Gavin’s shoulder caused the battered knight to wince, but he wouldn’t say a word. “Not bad,” Frederick praised before he let his eyes dart towards the two girls who wanted nothing to do with the other. “Squires, how would you rank his performance?”
Larissa’s head tilted to the side like a curious dog. Bundling her hands behind her back, she said, “Good, with high skill.”
“What?” Hayley shouted at her, gobsmacked. “He got bashed in the gut and face. How is that good?” Her ire was burning into Larissa when it dawned on her that she was hurling her knight out with the bathwater. “I mean…” A blush burned upon Hayley’s cheeks when she felt amber eyes sizing her up. Gavin didn’t shout at her to shut up, but she did it of her own accord.
Sighing with an eye roll, Larissa raised her shoulders higher as she droned an oratorial speech to the knights, “He clearly drew the much larger opponent out. Gave the man not only a false sense of bravado but tested his strengths and weaknesses. Once those were discovered, he went in for the kill… Which any simpleton with the intellect of a half-drowned mouse would know.”
The hackles on her hackles raised, Hayley rounding towards Larissa and wanting to rip her hair off. Give one clean yank and scalp her. Or kick her in the gut a few times. Sure, Hayley would lose the fight but at least she’d leave a bruise behind. Before Hayley could rip into her, the entire cause of this mess came bustling over.
“Ser Gavin,” lady Anne was all smiles what with her getting to keep or steal a creek. “Congratulations on your victory.”
His weary head tipped to her. “They are yours, my Lady. If you will give me a moment, I should remove my mail. Squire?”
So that was why he called her. Hayley darted for him, leaving a fuming Larissa in the dust. She stretched her arms out, prepared for Gavin to drop his chainmail into her hands, but he paused and jerked his head towards the hem. Sliding closer, Hayley heard him groan from within the bowels of his gut. It was nearly silent but so painful she winced in sympathy.
Working together, both managed to get him free of his half-armor, Hayley collecting all the bits and plopping them in the stall beside Gringolet. While her back was turned, her knight wandered over to the chair and plopped down. He began to dab a tanned kerchief upon his sliced open brow, fresh blood staining it more. For all of Larissa’s smug certainty, looking at the man sucking in a breath through his gut check it sure seemed like taking a few beatings wasn’t the wisest plan.
Gavin gave no sign of any deep pain, though his eyes remained shut tight as he continued to press upon the open wound. Lady Anne oozed closer, “Do you need any help…with your injuries?”
“No,” he shook his head quickly, then blanched, “I am well, my Lady. Just a minor scratch.”
Bullshit. But even with him throwing her off, Lady Anne’s perfumed hands scooped back and forth over Gavin’s shoulder. When one bounded right into the punch spot, he full body flinched but didn’t shake her off. She didn’t even seem to notice, her lips salivating at the nearness of her champion.
Ser Frederick clucked his tongue once and bounded up and down on his toes, “Seems you have everything well in hand, my Lady.” The leer was less than subtle. He seemed to find her pawing endearing, while Gavin only flashed a glare from below his brow. “I’ll see you inside later, Ser Champion. No doubt there will be a delightful feast in his honor.” He aimed the question at Anne but was clearly still jabbing at Gavin. Without waiting for a response, Frederick scooped up Larissa and the pair wandered back towards whatever required them.
Food sounded so good, most of them relying upon chipped beef and lentils for the trip. Even some bread, a few days old with the mold dug out, would be a delight. But…Hayley g
lanced down at her Knight who was prodding at his shoulder and hissing.
“You look thirsty, my Knight,” Anne purred. She fished up a ladle from a bucket of water and moved it towards his lips. A hand cupped under to catch any runoff, the older Lady nearly curled up on his lap to get it to his mouth.
“I am fine, your Ladyship,” he insisted, not shoving the metal cup away, but not welcoming it either. The woman hung right in front of him, seeming about to ask again. “No thank you.”
Hayley piped up, “I’m thirsty.” Both Gavin and Anne turned to her, eyes sweeping accusations across a teenager who didn’t have a care to give. She shrugged, “It’s hot out.”
“Indeed it is,” Gavin reached for the ladle and pressed it to Hayley.
The metallic and mossy taste landed on her tongue, but she swallowed the offered water down fast. Clearly out of ideas on how to get the knight to give her attention, Lady Anne tugged a bag of coins off of her belt. “Your purse for the fight. The usual amount, of course.”
Gavin tipped his head in thanks, but he pointed toward the scraggly girl, “Give it to my squire, please.”
A massive pile of gold and silver plopped into Hayley’s outstretched hands. Her knees locked in, eyes opening wide in shock at the mass weighing down her palms. She’d never seen so much in one place, not without worrying nabbing it all would get her on wanted signs.
Lady Anne’s eyes were only upon Gavin, her hand skirting boldly across his sweaty chest. “When you have composed yourself, I will be waiting to toast to my champion.”
He swallowed deep, the knot in his throat dropping, but he managed on a smile and bowed his head. It was enough as Anne finally sauntered off, her structured hips banging about like a bell. Once the woman was out of earshot, Gavin gasped in a breath and collapsed back in the chair.
All the pain he’d ignored bloomed on his face, his lips lifted in a snarl and eyes sinking deep. Placing a hand to his stomach, Gavin tried to get a look at the bruise below before shaking his head in exhaustion.
“Squire,” he whispered, causing Hayley to finally look away from the gold squatting in her hands. “Beware accepting anything from nobility.”