Sytravious: The Lost Warlock Of Moruz (The Oathbreaker Book 1) (18 page)

Sytravious clapped, but his gaze was focused on Raiven.  Everyone surrounding him whooped and whistled with delight, while others stomped their feet to create a ruckus.  It had been ages since they were afforded the chance to have fun at the city’s expense.

              The crier continued, “In four days’ time, the festival will begin with performances by talent from all over the land.  We also encourage local merchants to come and sell their goods and services.  Lastly, we will end the festivities with a combat tournament, which is open to both eligible citizens and soldiers.  For more details please see one of the information booths we have set up right outside each castle gate.  The champion will win two-hundred gold pieces, a steed of their choice from the royal stables, and…” he paused for effect, “An invitation to the royal banquet as the esteemed guest of High Priestess Jezra and our very own Priestess Raiven.  Not a warrior?  Do not fret!  You are still welcomed to enjoy the celebratory meal right outside the castle walls.  So, leave your money at home because the warden will be hosting your free dinner, complete with wine from the royal cellars!” 

              Sytravious found himself cheering with the crowd.  Dinner with Raiven was something he could get excited about, not to mention everything else that came with the prize.  The crier had completed his announcement and the crowd had started to disperse.  He remained in place, trying to get one last glimpse of the priestess.  Just as he was about to walk away, their eyes met, and her face lit up with joy.  He gave her a wink, before disappearing into the crowd.

              Her dazzling smile was the last push he needed to confirm the decision he was about to make was the right one.  During the festival, his stepfather would be setting up a stand to do some simple smith work for the people.  Nysight would be able to earn some extra money, but Sytravious was not planning to be there to help. 

              Conversely, there was Nyxseous, who would not be busy at all.  With the warden giving out free drinks and food, there would be no reason for customers to visit the Trapper House, leaving his mother without anything to do.  If she knew what he was devising, she would stop at nothing to bring down his plans, but he did not care.  He was going to do what
he
wanted for a change.

              As he approached the castle gate, he saw the information booth.  “Those same skills can apply to whatever path you choose,” were Nysight’s words from earlier that Sytravious now repeated in his head.  He stood in line behind a wide, brawly, man with blonde curly hair.  Upon second glance, he realized it was Xertias.  Sytravious was not worried about the guardian taking part in the tournament, but it hardly seemed fair to everyone else who wanted to compete.  Why dangle all the rewards in front of the ordinary people, but then let someone like Xertias participate?  It was just wrong.

              When the guardian finished speaking to the soldier at the table, he turned around to leave.  Before exiting the booth, he stopped to size up his opponents that waited in line.  Xertias scoffed and then laughed as he walked away.  Sytravious rolled his eyes after the cocky guardian passed him.  He knew better than to be arrogant in front of the other contenders.

              “Mister, listen up!”  The soldier shouted at him.

              He leaned closer so he could hear better amidst the hubbub.  The man recited the guidelines from a piece of parchment.  “The tournament will take place in the royal square.  We will erect the ring the day before the competition.  It will take place over the span of two days.  The first day will consist of single elimination duels.  The contestants that remain will participate on day two, in a grand melee, where the ultimate champion will be determined.  All weapons are to be made of steel or iron, and must be blunted to ensure a certain level of safety for our competitors.  To win, you must disarm your opponent or they must concede defeat.  Do you have any questions?”

              Sytravious shook his head.

              “Then if you still would like to participate, sign this roster right here.”

Chapter 17

The Champion Revealed

            
 
T
he castle grounds had undergone an impressive transformation to reflect the memorable occasion.  Performers of all sorts entertained the people of Havencrest.  Tents were set up for vendors, who seized the chance to have a free spot to sell their merchandise.  Every few paces, citizens were offering Raiven different types of tasty treats, while others tried to lure her into playing festival games or joining in a group dance.  It had turned out to be a joyous celebration, just as the warden had promised.

Jezra had granted the young girl permission to take part in the festivities as long as she brought her two best guardians with her.  Bryce had been authorized to compete in the tournament, leaving her in the company of his two successors.  The absence of her favorite guardian did not bother her though, because Raiven was happy to be able to walk amongst the people of Havencrest, and they were overjoyed to see her as well.  While she wandered around, individuals were permitted to approach her with a respectful salutation, but nothing more than a simple handshake.  After greeting the first few folks, she figured out a handkerchief would have come in handy since most of the residents wiped their food-covered fingers on their clothes before shaking her hand; but they seemed so grateful for her recognition, she could not help but smile.

The thrill of being surrounded by her people tapered off by the third day, and rather than appreciating the celebration with everyone else, she was searching more diligently for Sytravious.  Since the festival began, she had yet to see him in the throngs of townspeople, but by dusk, she had managed to find Onyx.  Raiven walked up to his tent and examined the equipment he had brought along with him. 

“Good evening, Priestess.”  He bowed his head.  “How may I be of service to you?”

She smiled at him.  “Good evening to you as well.  I was just seeing if your son was out here.  He did such a superb job repairing the dagger I brought in a few weeks ago that I wanted to thank him personally.”

Onyx’s brow wrinkled in surprise.  “Really?  Well I am sorry to tell you, my lady, but I have yet to see him out here since the celebration began.”

“Oh.”  She tried to conceal her disappointment.  “Is that not a little inconsiderate of him?  How could he just go off and enjoy the party, leaving you here to do all the work?”  Raiven was trying her best to get him to tell her where Sytravious was.

“I do not think you will find him celebrating or gorging on food, it is just not like him.”

Dissatisfied with his response, she could not help but frown at the blacksmith. 

“My lady, you have my word that if I see Sytravious, I will let him know you were looking for him.”

That was all she needed to hear to boost her mood.  Delighted, she reached out across the table and grabbed his hand within both of hers.

“Thank you Onyx, may Vesalys shine her light on you.  Have a good rest of your evening.”  She released his hand and waved goodbye.

He bowed his head once again.  “You do the same, my lady.  Farewell.”

When the next morning arrived, the festival continued.  Today the priestess knew she wanted to enjoy her last outing, because she did not know when another chance like this would come along.  To get the most out of her day, Raiven knew she would have to ditch her two guardians, who were following her every move.  After many handshakes, she turned to the two men behind her and stared at her hands in disgust.  “Oh dear, it seems I have forgotten my handkerchief today.  Would one of you please fetch one for me?”

While the guardians debated who would walk back inside for the priestess, she ducked between the long stilts of a nearby entertainer and ran, dodging between tents.  When she was confident she had lost them, Raiven stopped to sit in the grass with an audience who were watching a musician perform.  She leaned back on both hands.  The warm sun shined against her face while she panted, trying to catch her breath.

“Oh, you like listening to the lute too?”

“The lute…?” she asked, and glanced up at the stage to see a man playing the stringed instrument.  “Yes, it is quite lov---Sytravious!”  She gasped, having only just realized he was the one sitting next to her.

“Maybe I should learn to play one then.”

Her loud laughter was disproportional to his wisecrack, but she was so happy to see him she could not control it.  “Where have you been?  I have been looking all over for you!”

“I was trying to keep my distance.  With your two new chaperones, I was not sure if it would be safe to try to talk to you, since they are not likely as lenient as Bryce.  However, when I saw your slick getaway, I figured I could catch up with you.”

She checked her surroundings to verify that the guardians were not around.  “Yes, Bryce went to fight in the tournament.  Maybe he will win.”  She flashed a smile at him.  “Anyway, how have you been?”

He chuckled.  “I guess I have been well, but I
have
been missing your company and our late night conversations.  How about you?”

“They have me locked away in my room, but that was to be expected after what happened.  I was worried that Master Vienken would go report the incident to the High Priestess, then track you down, have you arrested, and then publicly shame the both of us.” 

“But?”  He raised an eyebrow as he questioned her.

She tittered.  “
But
, he did not do any of those things.  Instead, he said he understands how I feel about you and told me that if I simply refrain from seeing you again until after the High Priestess leaves, then he will support you courting me.  Master Vienken even promised he would put in a good word for you when the request is submitted!” 

He gave her a weak smile.

Her eyes widened with shock.  “What is wrong?  Is that not wonderful news?” 

“Raiven, can you not see, he is just telling you what you want to hear so you will comply with whatever the temple wants?  Even if he did advocate the courtship when he consults with the capital, do you really think it would even matter?  The High Priestess will never approve of someone like me.  Have you even stopped to consider explaining how we met?”

She furrowed her brow, ruminating on everything he had just brought up.  “Master Vienken would never lie to me.  I know he will follow through with his promise and the High Priestess could never ignore such a recommendation.  In addition, it is not solely up to Jezra, she must seek Vesalys’ guidance on the matter as well.  As for how we met, I will come up with something.  It will work.  I know it will.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and sighed.  “If you say so, my priestess, but we will have to continue this conversation another time.  Your guardians are closing in and we would not want them to see you have already violated the old dwarf’s request.”

              Crestfallen, she pouted and asked, “When will I see you again?  Will you be at the tournament?  Maybe I can look for you in the crowd.”

              “Sure, I will be there.  I am getting one of the best seats in the place, you will see me.”  He winked at her when he stood up, and before she knew it, he had blended into the crowd and the guardians were marching toward her.

              “Priestess, your presence is requested in the royal pavilion at once,” one of the guardians said to her.

              “We had better go then.”  She popped up full of cheer, feeling as if nothing could put a damper on her day.  The fact that Sytravious had been keeping an eye on her made her feel bubbly inside.  She could not wait to get to the arena and spot him so they could share secret smirks and glimpses with each other.

              As she drew nearer to the pavilion, she found that the courtyard was barely recognizable as a detail of soldiers finished the setup for the tournament.  They had created an entire arena complete with a platform in the center.  Townsfolk were already filing into the seats, hoping to get a good view.  Would Sytravious be in the front row?  Raiven entered the pavilion to find Jezra, Kenshiro and the warden conversing. 

              “My dear, you have arrived!  What took you so long?”  Jezra inquired.

              Raiven shot a glance at the guardian behind her, and he communicated with a small shake of his head, that he had not said anything about her running off.  She mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to him and turned back to Jezra.  “Oh, I must have gotten caught up poring over the unique arts all the citizens have to offer.  They really are talented.  I wish I could spend more time amongst them.”

              “Come, sit down.”  The old woman gestured to the empty chair that was designated to the priestess.

              Raiven took her seat and continued to speak to her mentor.  “There was even this blacksmith that---”

              “I know, my dear.  As sovereigns of the temple, we always wish we could afford the time to spend with our people, so that we may sincerely appreciate Vesalys’ light in every one of them, but our schedules are too hectic for that.  It is part of our jobs to find the balance that allows us to dedicate the time to those who need us while being able to carry out our other duties.” 

              “Look at that!” the warden shouted and pointed, stretching his arm out, right in front of Jezra’s face.

              “Excuse you!” she scoffed and pushed his arm away from her.

              “My apologies, Your Holiness, but the constable has won the archery contest over there.  Kenshiro, you owe me twenty silver pieces!”  The warden guffawed and slapped the general on the shoulder. 

              Jezra fluttered a handheld fan in front of her face, and commented, “Edgar, it seems you have Elric in the wrong field.  An expert shooter of that caliber ought to be in charge of the archery unit.”

              “He may be a good archer, but he is an excellent investigator.  He is right where he belongs,” the warden               countered.  “Unlike the general’s protégé, who I still say has no place in this tournament.”  He chuckled at his own comment and held out his hand while he sipped from his goblet, spilling wine down his beard.

              When he glanced at the warden and Kenshiro could not mask his repulsion as he dropped the silver pieces into his grubby hand.  “Keep bad mouthing Kaspar, but when he beats Xertias, you will regret having wagered fifty gold pieces against him.”

              “You are a fool to be confident in Kaspar.  I do not know with whom he had to fight in order to qualify for today, but I assure you they were nothing like Xertias.  Your wager will be the easiest gold I will have won thus far.  Honestly, no one stands a chance against that man.  Even if it was you out there about to fight him, Kenshiro, I would still bet on Xertias!” the warden boasted.

              “Oh please.  I have invested years of my time into his training to ensure that he is a superb sword fighter, and I am pleased to tell you that he has proven himself.  He fights as if he were my own shadow,” Kenshiro said with a smug expression on his face.             

              Jezra rolled her eyes.  “Kenshiro, it is unwise to discount Xertias.  I have seen his battle skills for myself.  However, Edgar, it is stupid to disregard the general’s talent, which he has undoubtedly passed on to Kaspar.  I just know that after this contest is over, you two had better drop the topic and figure out how to carry on a decent conversation because I will not put up with this bickering at supper tonight.”

              Her words shut them up, and it was obvious Jezra took pleasure in their silence.  Meanwhile, Raiven had stayed quiet, scanning the masses for Sytravious.  The competitors started to walk out into the provisional arena and the crowd cheered.  The group entering the ring carried all sorts of weapons from swords to battle-axes.

              “Hey, there is my guardian, Bryce!  I bet he can beat up both your contestants with ease.”

“My dear, do not encourage their squabbling please,” Jezra begged, but it was too late and the warden pounced on the chance to gamble more. 

“Aha!  Another wager it is, Priestess.”

              Jezra mumbled, “I would gladly pay you to hush.”

              “Let us make those two wagers for the two ladies!” the warden exclaimed.  “The young lady is placing a bet on her guardian, and the old la---High Priestess has stake in my silence, but she has yet to choose a fighter.”

              “Ugh, well since you have already selected Xertias, I will have to pick somebody else.  It seems since all the sensible choices are taken, so I will choose…”  She narrowed her eyes and placed her finger on her chin to simulate deep thought as she browsed her options.  “That one right there.”  She nodded towards her choice.

              “Which one?” the warden asked.

              “The one with the black armor and polearm weapon.  He looks like he can do some damage.”

              The pudgy man leaned forward to see whom she was talking about.