Crowned

Chapter 15 - Derrick

Derrick sat against a thick tree, propping his feet up on a smaller branch as he watched Lord Bedivere. He was practicing against a poor soul that hadn't properly considered the strength of his opponent or else had been coerced into fighting.

Either way, the two sparred. Against any other opponent, the young man would have had a fair chance at winning. He had a solid execution of the foundational moves but Lord Bedivere was superior in all.

Derrick had been sitting in the tree for the better part of his morning, studying Lord Bedivere and looking for a blemish in his technique. So far he hadn't noticed very many, if any, flaws.

His stomach growled. It was almost lunch time, judging by the sun's position and the Third Round started soon. Someone said that it was archery. Derrick was already half decent at it so he figured he would be spending his time more wisely by watching Lord Bedivere rather than practicing his archery.

He slipped down the tree trunk and took the long way through the woods back to the castle. Lord Bedivere would surely cause a commotion if he knew Derrick had been spying on him.

A hand clamped down on his shoulder just as he entered the castle.

Derrick grabbed the hand and started to throw the predator over his shoulder.

"Derrick, it's just me!"

Derrick stopped his offensive attack. "Cedric, one day I'm not going to know it's you and you'll get hurt."

"Nah, you can't hurt me." Cedric slung an arm around his shoulder. "But do tell, why do you look so guilty?"

"Shh. I was spying on Lord Bedivere. Trying to figure out his preferred fighting techniques."

Cedric likewise lowered his voice. "Find anything out?"

"Not much. If I had to guess, I'd say that his left side is more susceptible to attacks. Occasionally he'll leave it unguarded, but that's only after hours practicing in the heat." Derrick sighed. "I'll have to start training hard if I want to be confident in beating him."

"You don't think you can?"

"I can. I just need to build up my endurance. Lord Bedivere can last for hours on end."

The two men quickly ate their lunch in the great hall before congregating out in the warm fields. The early afternoon sun heated the shirt on Derrick's back.

Dozens of targets had been pasted onto large, semi-circle haystacks and set out hundreds of feet from the contestants.

Like the previous events, Katherine sat with her father and mother under a canopy, overlooking the contest. He accidentally met her gaze, but for some reason didn't look away. And neither did she.

They were parted by more than field's length and all the surrounding noises seemed to fade. He knew her hopes and fears and dreams. He knew she didn't want to be married to someone like Lord Bedivere. And she wouldn't. Not on his watch.

He held his gaze for a few seconds longer, studying her face, before reassessing the situation at hand.

The first round of men had been called up to the indicated line and were handed bows and arrows. Only those with the best scores would proceed.

Arrows whistled through the air towards the targets. A majority of the arrows met the targets. Some fell short. Others hit the wrong targets - Derrick wasn't exactly sure how that was possible.

Dozens of squires hurried to pull out the arrows and record the scores.

The next round of men were whisked to their positions. Derrick took hold of the bow and nocked an arrow. He was vaguely aware of Knight Damon to his right, doing the same.