Chapter Twenty: Cousin against Cousin

12 3 1
                                    

"Good match," blurted Garrick.

It surprised Relma that he said it, but she was not unpleased. At least Garrick was a good sport about it. Though why, when he had all but cheated before? Then again, maybe that was why he was a good sport about it.

Estela looked up in surprise. "What?"

"You have defeated me in combat," said Garrick. "Well done."

"You aren't offended?" asked Estela.

"Why should I be offended?" asked Garrick in genuine bemusement. "You made use of a legal and underhanded method to defeat me. I'm impressed.

"I would be a hypocrite not to offer you a hand as a worthy opponent." And he offered her a hand.

Estela looked at it for a moment. Then she took it. "...Good match."

William turned and walked over to where Varsus was standing. "Well, this will be our match, Varsus."

"I am interested to see how you have grown," said Varsus. "Here is to hoping I win my first actual victory in this tournament."

As they walked to the stairs, Saphra arose and quickly made up to William. In her hands was a long violet scarf. "Oh, Squire Gabriel. Take this. I rather like the idea of you wearing my colors."

William shifted. "...Thank you. But I don't feel-"

"Oh please, it would mean so very much to me," said Saphra, smiling for the first time since Relma had seen her.

William shifted. "...Very well, Saphra. I will wear it with pride." He offered his hand, and Saphra tied the scarf around him.

On Varsus and William took their places, Davian appeared to announce them. What exactly was Davian? He certainly wasn't ordinary... what was his rank anyway? He held every position at once when it suited him.

"Today, we have a battle between family!" said Davian. "On the one side, a recent victor of the Khasmir Campaign! A man who has faced the beasts of hell repeatedly and done battle with Melchious himself! I give you, William Gabriel!"

William donned his helm and came forward, eyes glimmering. His footfalls seemed like the falling of the Black Mountain behind him as his sword was drawn. The Black Sword gleamed in the sunlight, shimmering off the polished surface. His flaxen hair flowed about him alongside his crimson cloak.

It was quite a menacing figure, given that William was more or less a good person. Why did he insist on looking so terrifying? Hadn't he mentioned the armor was a gift from Rusara? Was it a Dust Elven thing? Garrick wore no such armor, so perhaps it was an Escorian Dust Elf thing. Rusara had been notable in the Escorian Civil War as a lieutenant of Arraxia.

Relma shuddered at the stories of those wars. Never in her time if she could help it. Certainly, she'd never press her claim if it meant a repeat of that. She doubted anyone would.

"In the other, a man who defeated Sir Frederick in the ring!" said Davian. "A scourge against pirates in the northern seas! I give you Varsus Gabriel!

"These two cousins will do battle with each other! And the winner is the one who moves on to represent House Gabriel in the finals!"

The two drew their swords and saluted as Relma approached Estela. Varsus looked very chivalric and heroic in his polished mail and blue cape. He flourished his blade with grace, golden hair swirling about him. William stood at the ready like an executioner.

What was Saphra up to, though? She'd been insistent on that scarf. Too insistent. Why had William listened to her? They knew one another.

"So how do you think this will go down?" asked Relma.

Tournament of KingsWhere stories live. Discover now