politely cheering the victor, and, after the healer had attended to his wounds, Priam returned to his seat. The crowd applauded as he made his way up the stairs. But soon the applause turned to escstatic roars of approval. Confused, Priam glanced around to see Aeden sprinting up the stairs after his own victory before he remembered that they had fought their matches simultaneously this time.
“Wonderful job, Priam. There’s always next year.” Lord Rossam told the boy, who hung his head in utter defeat.
“Hey. Cheer up. You made it to the top four. That means you’re the fourth best duelist in the city. In our age group, of course.” Aeden tried to console his friend, but Priam remained quiet.
The tournament now nearing its end, each duel spurred the crowd to its feet, roaring its excitement and approval, and soon the championship matches were announced. The youngest division went first: the crowd shouted and yelled and clapped thunderously as the two youth, a boy and a girl, circled each other, trading ferocious, yet clinically precise blows. The boy knocked the girl down, allowed her to stand, and delivered two more quick strikes to her chest. She emerged the victor from the second round, and the third round kept the audience in suspense as the two dueled to a near draw, neither scoring on the other nor drawing any blood for nearly seven minutes. Finally, the girl managed to disarm her stunned opponent, and ended the round quickly after three swift blows and a deft touch to the head to the obvious delight of the crowd.
Aeden waited down near the judges’ table for the match to end, eyeing the man standing nearby. His opponent, a young man of twenty-four and a commoner, politely made conversation with Aeden as the two waited. The two youth bowed to the lord and walked away, leaving the lawn clear for the waiting dualists. They approached the center of the ring, and, bowing and shaking each other’s hand, wished the other luck. They drew their swords and immediately began circling each other. A hush fell over the crowd as all watched intently. Neither one made a move until well after a minute had passed: Aeden lunged, but feinted, drawing the other man to swat at his sword as he ducked and swiped at the man’s legs. Reading Aeden’s mind, the man jumped and brought his sword crashing down on his opponent, who lifted his to block the blow just barely in time. The crowd erupted.
This continued for several minutes, until finally Aeden made a mistake. The man started a swing at him and Aeden readied to block and follow up with a quick flurry of strikes, when the man unexpectedly spun and struck from the opposite direction. Aeden’s sword twisted around nearly out of his grip, and the other man rained down a storm of quick swipes on his chest, shoulders, and helmet, landing four before Aeden could recover. The younger man now dazed and enraged, the elder quickly finished the round with a well-placed swipe after an unsuccessful lunge by Aeden. He skulked away from his opponent, the judges declaring that round for the commoner.
The next round went to Aeden, though only through a great deal of luck. A strap on the man’s shabby armor came loose, and in the split second it took him to wrest it free, Aeden managed to score three points. The man regained control of his sword, and the next several moments were a blur of swipes and parries. The man scored once, then twice, but Aeden received another bit of luck as the man stumbled backward on a piece of debris, allowing him to end the round with two quick swipes to the man’s legs.
After a quick breather, they approached one another again, bowed, and Aeden wasted no time in charging the man, concentrating hard as he spun and jumped and slashed into his opponent, who staggered back in surprise at the ferocity of the onslaught. Aeden scored a hit, then another, before the man re-asserted himself, using his quickness and agility to his advantage, moving faster than the
“Wonderful job, Priam. There’s always next year.” Lord Rossam told the boy, who hung his head in utter defeat.
“Hey. Cheer up. You made it to the top four. That means you’re the fourth best duelist in the city. In our age group, of course.” Aeden tried to console his friend, but Priam remained quiet.
The tournament now nearing its end, each duel spurred the crowd to its feet, roaring its excitement and approval, and soon the championship matches were announced. The youngest division went first: the crowd shouted and yelled and clapped thunderously as the two youth, a boy and a girl, circled each other, trading ferocious, yet clinically precise blows. The boy knocked the girl down, allowed her to stand, and delivered two more quick strikes to her chest. She emerged the victor from the second round, and the third round kept the audience in suspense as the two dueled to a near draw, neither scoring on the other nor drawing any blood for nearly seven minutes. Finally, the girl managed to disarm her stunned opponent, and ended the round quickly after three swift blows and a deft touch to the head to the obvious delight of the crowd.
Aeden waited down near the judges’ table for the match to end, eyeing the man standing nearby. His opponent, a young man of twenty-four and a commoner, politely made conversation with Aeden as the two waited. The two youth bowed to the lord and walked away, leaving the lawn clear for the waiting dualists. They approached the center of the ring, and, bowing and shaking each other’s hand, wished the other luck. They drew their swords and immediately began circling each other. A hush fell over the crowd as all watched intently. Neither one made a move until well after a minute had passed: Aeden lunged, but feinted, drawing the other man to swat at his sword as he ducked and swiped at the man’s legs. Reading Aeden’s mind, the man jumped and brought his sword crashing down on his opponent, who lifted his to block the blow just barely in time. The crowd erupted.
This continued for several minutes, until finally Aeden made a mistake. The man started a swing at him and Aeden readied to block and follow up with a quick flurry of strikes, when the man unexpectedly spun and struck from the opposite direction. Aeden’s sword twisted around nearly out of his grip, and the other man rained down a storm of quick swipes on his chest, shoulders, and helmet, landing four before Aeden could recover. The younger man now dazed and enraged, the elder quickly finished the round with a well-placed swipe after an unsuccessful lunge by Aeden. He skulked away from his opponent, the judges declaring that round for the commoner.
The next round went to Aeden, though only through a great deal of luck. A strap on the man’s shabby armor came loose, and in the split second it took him to wrest it free, Aeden managed to score three points. The man regained control of his sword, and the next several moments were a blur of swipes and parries. The man scored once, then twice, but Aeden received another bit of luck as the man stumbled backward on a piece of debris, allowing him to end the round with two quick swipes to the man’s legs.
After a quick breather, they approached one another again, bowed, and Aeden wasted no time in charging the man, concentrating hard as he spun and jumped and slashed into his opponent, who staggered back in surprise at the ferocity of the onslaught. Aeden scored a hit, then another, before the man re-asserted himself, using his quickness and agility to his advantage, moving faster than the
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