Sytravious: The Lost Warlock Of Moruz (The Oathbreaker Book 1) (19 page)

              “She means the one without the banner, the citizen,” Kenshiro uttered.

              “A citizen?  Ha!  Too late to change your mind now, that is your competitor, Your Holiness.  I will start preparing a long list of topics to talk about tonight at the banquet, and you had better get ready to delve into your private stash because I expect a bottle of Cleary Court’s finest wine when I win.”

              “We shall see,” Jezra replied.

              “If I win, I would like to be able to visit my garden once again,” Raiven added.

              “From what High Priest Vienken has told me, I understand it has been distracting you from your studies, but I suppose I can consider it,” Jezra said.

              “And what if you lose, cousin?  How about you owe me a dance?”  Kenshiro shifted closer to her and continued in a whisper, “or a kiss.”

              She was gawking at him in astonishment when the trumpet fanfare rang out, catching her attention.  The cheers grew noisier in anticipation.  The royal crier walked into the arena, stepped up onto the platform, and cleared his throat.

              “Welcome all, to the final event of this grand festival!” he shouted, “One last time, let us thank the Warden of Havencrest for making all this possible!”  The audience applauded to show their gratitude. 

              “Due to the large number of entries, there are many finalists.  Therefore, the tournament will be in the form of a melee, every man for himself.  To win, the competitor must be the last man standing.  Conceding defeat or being disarmed by an opponent leads to automatic disqualification.  Once disqualified, the fighter must exit the arena immediately.  Every participant knows the rules.  Good luck and may Vesalys be with you all.”  The crier sprinted out of the ring.  Nearby, drums thundered, and the warden rose up to bellow, “Let the battle begin!” 

              The fighters drew their weapons, charging at one another straightaway.  Raiven watched as the men exhibited their speed and brute strength.  The clanking of multiple blades hitting against each other, was drowned out by yelling from the crowd while people rooted for their favorites.  While the rest of the royal party was entertained by the show, she glanced over the swarms of onlookers in search of Sytravious.  He had said he would have one of the best seats in the house.  Raiven looked through the front rows of seats, but to no avail.  Maybe he was caught up doing something else and could not make it.

When the warden stood up and yelled, “Come on, Xertias!”  Raiven stopped to find Jezra’s guardian in the fight.  He was easy to locate because he wore sapphire blue armor and yielded an unusually large sword, which he swung with ease.  She observed as he disarmed three men in a row and knocked out a fourth with the flat of his blade.  Fighters were getting disqualified left and right.  Even a few of participants fled the arena once they saw they did not stand a chance against Xertias, but Bryce was not one of them. 

From the platform, Raiven’s guardian stood his ground, taking down those who had the courage to challenge him.  Bryce slashed his sword down to connect with each one of his targets.  The sheer force behind each blow sent his foes thumping to the ground.  Their unconscious bodies were dragged out of the arena.  The priestess was happy with how well Bryce was doing so far.  She grinned and glanced at her cousin, but Kenshiro was too busy shouting advice to Kaspar.  Raiven turned to Jezra and saw she was concentrating on the unknown fighter she had chosen, who was actually quite clever in his strategy. 

The citizen stayed continuously moving around the arena, and using the long reach of his weapon to swipe his opponent’s feet out from under them.  Once they slammed into the ground, he was quick to use the halberd to flick the weapons out of their hands.  However, for those with nimble footwork, the citizen jabbed the giant blade of the weapon into their helm, knocking them out. 

As the number of men in the arena dwindled, Raiven was feeling great about her chances of winning.  With every competitor that got disqualified, the closer she was to getting her time alone in her garden given back to her, which meant Sytravious would be able to secretly see her again.  Overjoyed by the mere idea of getting her late night visits back, she jumped up and cheered, “You can do it, Bryce!”  She knew he would never hear her over the cacophony in the arena, but she wanted to give him extra encouragement.  A lot was riding on his victory. 

Therefore, when her guardian bumped into the citizen, she did not worry for the man was half the size of Bryce, he did not stand a chance.  The guardian lurched at him and swung his great sword.  The civilian fighter barely evaded the attack.  Bryce advanced towards him.  The citizen took a defensive position as the guardian got closer to him.  In a snake like move, the civilian used the long pole to strike out towards the guardian’s helm.  The impact nearly knocked Bryce off his feet.  He stumbled back a few steps. 

When he regained his composure, the brawny guardian continued his assault.  They matched each other blow for blow, until Bryce thrust his blade forcefully into the staff of the halberd.  The rod smashed into the citizen’s chest armor.  Bryce stepped forward, pushing against him.  The civilian dug his heels into the ground and pushed back.  The guardian gave him a strong shove that sent him crashing into the ground with a thud.  The audience groaned in unison when the citizen hit the floor. 

A knight from the elite guard took advantage of Bryce’s distraction and sprung at him to hit him from behind.  The guardian turned his attention to the man pursuing him from the rear.  The citizen got up, unfazed.  While Bryce was busy fending off the knight, the unknown fighter took his time to measure his next move.  With his left hand out, and polearm held back in his right hand, he began sprinting toward the distracted guardian’s back.  He got a running start and leapt high into the air as he thrusted his weapon.  The blade of the halberd plowed into the back of Bryce’s helm, causing the guardian to tumble into the knight.  The knight fell back, but Bryce was still standing.  With a swipe at his ankles, the polearm sent the guardian face first into the ground.  The citizen walked up and used his weapon to flick the sword from the guardian’s hand.

“Whoa ho ho!  Beat by a citizen!  I guess you owe me a dance tonight,” Kenshiro teased Raiven.

“Who is that man?” the warden questioned.  “I know many townsfolk signed up, but I never expected them to make it through the preliminary duels.”

“Then why offer a prize you did not intend for them?”  Raiven retorted.

“Why, it is called incentive, Priestess.  It is the only way to get the best entertainment out of them, like with this one today,” he replied and pointed to the civilian in the ring.

She huffed and slouched in her chair, now impatient for the tournament to end.  Without someone to root for, Raiven went back to trying to find Sytravious, but it was difficult to ignore the warden and Kenshiro taunting one another.

“I would not get too excited, Kenshiro.  Here comes Xertias for your little soldier now.”

“I am positive Xertias is about to learn a hard lesson in defeat.  Kaspar may have gotten off to a slow start, but it is only because he was being cautious.  It is evident he has become more confident with each competitor he takes down.”

“Slow is right.  That shield is tiring him out, and fast.  At least my fighter can carry his shield without straining.”  The warden held his belly as he cracked up.

Xertias had taken Bryce’s previous spot on the platform, slashing down anyone in close enough proximity.  Kaspar was about to hop on the stage, when the Xertias noticed him.  The guardian bounded across the platform and jumped off the edge.  His sword was held high above his head, when he brought it down with force.  The young soldier anticipated the guardian’s move and held his shield up.  With a clash, the sword bounced off the shield, sending Kaspar reeling backwards into the ground and he scrambled to get up. 

The soldier found himself on the defense again.  Xertias pounded against his opponent’s shield with a series of slashes.  When Kaspar found an opening, he used his blade to stab at the guardian.  Xertias parried the attack.  The guardian answered every move the soldier attempted.  Kaspar threw the shield on the ground and switched to a two handed grip on his sword.  The soldier became the aggressor.  His swift speed was undeniable, making Xertias the one using his shield as a buffer now.

Meanwhile, the citizen fighter prepared himself for the remaining six knights who had decided to join forces against him.  As they crept up, surrounding him, he spun the halberd above his head.  The weapon whirled with such grace and rapidity; each knight was hesitant to be the first to charge.  Before any of them could make their move, he brought the blade down as he pivoted in a full circle.  He sliced into each man one after the other.  Five of the knights fell to the ground when the steel plowed into their helms. 

A tremendous cheer erupted from the crowd.  The last man standing staggered back.  The knight’s wrist wobbled as he held up the spear to throw it.  The citizen rushed at him.  He sprang up and kicked his foot into the center of the knight’s chest and the sixth man slammed to the floor.  The civilian picked up the spear from the fallen knight’s hand and searched around the arena.  He pulled the weapon back and squinted his eyes, zeroing in on his target.  His arm hurled forward as he released the spear.  The weapon zipped through the air. 

Kaspar was forcing Xertias against the border of the ring when spear rammed into the back of his helm.  In a momentary lapse of judgement, the soldier looked back to see where it came from.  When he turned back, his chin was met with an uppercut strike from Xertias’ sword.  The wallop left a dent in Kaspar’s armor.  The soldier dropped to his knees before falling over on his side.

“Whoa, ho ho!  Beat by a citizen!”  Raiven said as she mocked her cousin.

Kenshiro snarled and threw his goblet to the floor and he warden’s boisterous laughs followed.  “No need to be a sore loser.”

The spectators watched in awe as the last two men got ready to face off.  The guardian smirked and stepped over Kaspar’s body, stalking up to his foe, who met him in the center of the arena.  He fixed his stare on the only person who stood in the way of winning, the mystery fighter.  Xertias gestured for the crowd to get louder as they cheered for him.  The onlookers fed off his arrogant and pompous energy.  He pumped his fist in the air triumphantly as if he had already won.  While Xertias hyped himself up, the citizen fighter observed his opponent, with the halberd laying over his shoulder.  The pounding of the drums started up again, adding to the anticipation of the final matchup.

The warden shouted over the noise, “Your Holiness, it seems you have gotten lucky in your choice.  No matter, we both know Xertias is tried and proven when it comes to combat.  He will not be defeated by a civilian with a fancy stick.”  The high priestess did not respond, instead she concentrated on the man she had selected to win.

The citizen lowered his weapon as he stepped into a ready stance.  The guardian bounded at him.  The unknown fighter was fast and hopped out of the way.  The blade of the halberd smashed into Xertias’ shield.  The guardian tried the same move a few more times, but kept getting the same result.  He tried to feint a few strikes and shift his attack at the last moment, but his attempts were futile.  The fighter used his weapon to parry every move the guardian made towards him.  The citizen countered with combinations of his own, forcing Xertias into a defensive position, while his opponent relentlessly laid into him. 

As soon as he could, the guardian flung his shield at the citizen and snatched up a short sword from the ground.  Xertias pounced at his adversary and slashed with a dual weapon assault.  The blades rained down on the citizen.  Without a chance to counter, the man relied upon his agility as he dodged the blitzing guardian.  The citizen crouched low.  He jabbed the blade of the halberd straight into Xertias’ chest.  Then with a skillful flick of his weapon, he disarmed the guardian of the short sword.  Xertias used his sword to block as the polearm came slamming into him.  He thrust forward, driving his adversary back.  The citizen stepped back with the movement.  Then he suddenly turned around and sprinted away from Xertias. 

The guardian raced after him.  As the gap closed between them, he raised his sword above his head to deliver the final strike, when the fighter vaulted high into the air, bringing Xertias to a sudden halt.  The audience gasped in disbelief.  The citizens spun in the air and the giant blade of the halberd came whooshing down onto the guardian.  Xertias strained to block, keeping his sword held above his head, but the impact was too much for him.  The halberd broke through his defense and plowed into his helm.  Xertias staggered back, but managed to maintain his footing.  He was on guard, preempting the next hit, when the citizen carried out one sweeping blow to his ankles, knocking him off his feet.  He thudded to the floor and laid there, dazed and confused.  The citizen approached him with caution, and then kicked the sword out of his hand. 

The crowd broke out into an applause.  The warden stood up, outraged.  “What in the name of Vesal---”

“Edgar, I would appreciate it very much if you would refrain from using our goddess’ name in vain,” Jezra said.  The high priestess maintained her poise as she rose from her seat to clap with everyone else.  Raiven joined in, not having expected the event to be as entertaining as it was.

“Well, you won the bet,” she said to Jezra.  Raiven did not want to admit aloud, but she was envious that Bryce was not the champion.