Tournament of Kings

Chapter Sixteen: Berserker against Flame

It was amazing how quickly things were reset, or so Relma thought. Soon, they were all back in the stands, waiting as the crowd watched as the sun moved on. But everyone was restless, waiting for something to happen. No one was focusing on the match but rather on what might happen during the match.

Everyone was more interested now than before. It was interesting to Relma how unpleasant things could be memorable and exciting. While pleasant things passed you by suddenly, you hardly noticed you had them.

Saphra seemed to live by that code.

"Sorry about what happened with Frederick, Varsus," said Reginald. "Bad luck having your win stolen by a cheater."

"It is of no consequence," said Varsus. "When he is healed, I will fight him again and determine who should have won the match." Meaning Frederick. He'd been poisoned and still nearly won. Judging from Varsus' expression or what little Relma could make out of an expression, he knew it.

"The tournament may be over by then," noted Reginald.

"I will fight him nonetheless," said Varsus. "If only for completion's sake."

"Either way, wish me luck," said Reginald, drawing his sword and unslinging his shield. "I'm going up against the Bloodthirster."

"Bloodthirster?" asked Varsus.

"Well, she was pretty descriptive in what she wanted to do to me," said Reginald. "Seemed an appropriate name."

The Black Knight was already making her way into the ring. She spun her poleaxe repeatedly, and it was a blur in her hand. Reginald followed after her, slamming his sword against his shield in a challenge.

"Be careful, Reginald," said Varsus.

Reginald halted at the top of the stares and smirked. "I've been careful all my life."

Davian came forward as the two faced each other down. He stood between them, and the crowd was silent. "My friends, today we have a match of supreme excellence!

"In the one corner, we have an heir of House De Chevlon, come to prove his worth on the battlefield.

"In the other, we have-"

"Skip the introductions, you old fool," snarled the Black Knight.

Davian halted, shrugged, and walked to the sidelines.

"...I think that might be Tanith," said Estela

"Don't be absurd," said William. "Tanith has never once used a polearm in her entire life. She's terrible with them. Give her an axe or a sword, and she'll tear through armies. But she's completely unsuitable with that sort of weapon."

"What makes you so sure?" asked Estela.

"| grew up with her," said William. "She's like a sister to me."

"Your sister almost started a war," said Estela.

"No, she responded to aggression with aggression," said William. "Telix had been aggressive long before she was. Benarus was doing nothing. Had the situation continued, things would have gotten far worse.

"So she made an ill-advised but understandable attack on an enemy who had been allowed to run rampant."

Estela gave him a distrustful look. "No, all she cares about is killing people."

"Don't talk about things you don't understand." shot back William. "Tanith lives to do battle with the enemies of Harlenor in all their forms. Unfortunately, she is... well, too bloodthirsty for her own good.