Fay Tale - Chapter Seventeen

Seris smiled at the gathered crowd until he felt his fangs would fall out. His expression went feral as his gaze settled on the Fay-blessed ogre standing on one side of challenge circle. Angelis sighed.

Don’t sigh at me, Angelis! You should have stopped this insanity before it began!

I understand you are upset with events as they stand, his vampire brother replied, his voice soft and calm over their mental link. But the correct blame lies at the feet of our exalted and currently indisposed king. If His Majesty had not been so insistent on waving all protest aside over Maidd’s appointment, Commander Hoofsbane would not feel he must challenge him in so public a manner to regain the honor of Eirendyr’s army. Though what honor is to be gained in guarding a child I know not.

Damn Hoofsbane! Seris snarled, and damn Maidd too!

Angelis pointedly cut off all mental contact with his brother, leaving Seris to sulk alone. Instead, he watched the crowd gathered for the challenge with growing apprehension.

The moment Maidd had agreed to the Commander’s challenge the nobility had burst into a flurry of betting and informal alliances. The courtiers and servants were left to do the real work of putting together a last-moment challenger’s circle and seating for the observers.

Angelis felt the familiar bite of worry as he watched Hoofsbane check his lance before the match. The centaur was well-known as the best commander of mounted units in the surrounding kingdoms. Even more disturbing was his impressive record of victorious challenges. While ogres were considered warriors of some renown as well, only those of greatest fighting ability remained in their mercenary hordes. Those of lesser skill were often forced to make their ways as solo fighters, and according to his sources Maidd had been alone when he entered the capital of Endyr.

I cannot see an outcome where Maidd survives this match, the vampire thought grimly. He glanced at the princess who was watching the proceedings with obvious excitement. She does not understand that lives are so often forfeit in these duels. When the final blow comes, I must shield her.

His thoughts were interrupted by the piercing blare of a trumpet. Both princes winced as the call for silence rang through the tepid air.

“Hear ye! Hear ye! All of Eirendyr’s citizens!” a herald proclaimed. “Commander Hoofsbane of Eirendyr challenges the Ogre Maidd to trial by combat! One weapon per combatant. There is no time limit. The last combatant standing will be declared victor!”

The crowd sent up a loud cheer while Lily clapped.

Who is the Judge for the proceedings? Seris asked silently.

Angelis’s eyes searched the crowd opposite the royal seats but saw only an empty chair.

I do not know. Are you thinking to appoint a specific individual?

Seris gave a mental shrug.

I don’t think it would make a difference unless one were more inclined to pause Hoofsbane before a killing blow. The Commander doesn’t play with his opponents, Seris cautioned when he felt Angelis’s hope rise. I doubt there would be time for the Judge to halt the fight.

You must try Seris. If it is someone not inclined to the Folk or ogres in particular, you must petition for a change.

Even if I was able to change the Judge to someone more favorable to the Folk who would choose an ogre over one of our soldiers? Seris pointed out. When Angelis glared at him, Seris soothed him with a touch. I will do what I can to spare the ogre, Angel. I promise.

Angelis sat back, satisfied, even as Seris considered what little it was he could actually do to accomplish that.

By this point the crowd’s fervor had diminished somewhat and was further assisted by another piercing cry by the trumpet.

“Our presiding Judge for the challenge is our fair and wise Royal Judge and Advocate, Lady Aisha!” the herald announced.

Seris’s eyes widened as the feline woman approached the chair garbed in her long, dark robes. It was odd for her to be out and about the castle at this time of day, and Seris wondered if she had been called specifically to oversee the challenge.

Both princes bowed to her and she to them. Lily managed an adorable pseudo-curtsey in her chair. Royalty acknowledged Seris expected her to take her seat, but she remained standing before the crowd.

After a few awkward moments the herald called out, “The royal Judge, the Lady Aisha wishes to address the citizens of Eirendyr!”

“This challenge is to be held and its outcome upheld by the power of the law and the kingdom,” she began. “As befitting a royal Guardian, the ogre Maidd will prove his worthiness to protect his charge, Princess Liliana. To the rules of engagement I add only this. If either warrior perceives at any time that he is incapable of continuing the fight, either from injury or inability to defeat his opponent, he may yield without pain of death or fear of disgrace.”

Then the Lady sat, apparently satisfied even as whispered conversations sprung up all throughout the crowd.

Seris felt his brother relax in the chair beside him. Now it was possible the ogre might yet survive this challenge. But Seris had to wonder if Hoofsbane would allow his opponent breath enough to beg for mercy.

The trumpets sounded yet again to regain the attention of the nattering crowd.

“Opponents approach!” the herald bellowed.

Hoofsbane clopped over the stone courtyard towards the herald and Judge’s chair. Maidd copied his movements, coming to a halt before Lady Aisha only moments after Hoofsbane.

“Do you, Commander Hoofsbane, agree to comply to the rules of combat and promise to spare your opponent if he cries to yield?” the herald asked.

“I do.”

“And do you understand that you may yield at anytime after the challenge has begun without forfeiting your life or honor?”

“I do not plan to yield, but I hear and obey the Judge,” Hoofsbane replied.

“And do you, Ogre Maidd, agree to comply to the rules of combat and promise to spare your opponent if he cries to yield?”

“I do.”

“And do you understand that you may yield at anytime after the challenge has begun without forfeiting your life or honor?”

“I have no honor to forfeit,” Maidd replied simply.

His words caused another stir among the crowd, but the herald quickly dismissed the fighters to their side of the circle. A servant handed Hoofsbane his lance. He took it and cracked the butt on the stone at his feet.

“Are you ready to meet whatever gods you have beneath my hooves?!” he bellowed to the ogre.

Maidd took his weapon, a simple quarterstaff, from the nervous servant assigned to him. He swung it a few times through the air to test its balance before answering.

“I am.”

“The princess will now commence with tossing the royal coin!” the herald said, frowning at the centaur who had deviated from the time-honored script.

Lily hopped off her chair eagerly, and Seris picked her up and set her feet on top of the wooden barricade, which wrapped around the challenger’s circle. He kept an arm around her waist as Angelis handed her a large golden coin.

“Throw it into the middle of the arena,” Seris coached softly. “That will signal the fighters it’s time to begin.”

Lily hauled her right arm back, nearly clocking her father on the head, then threw as hard as she could. The crowd chuckled appreciatively as it sailed across the arena.

“Good arm, princess!” someone called out from the anonymity of the gathering. Lily grinned proudly as the crowd roared with laughter.

Few saw Hoofsbane charge across the circle. His lance leveled at the ogre’s chest.