Joseph Korlac walked out from the stand. He drew a gleaming white sword and threw aside his black cloak as he did. Beneath was shining mail. His hair was dark and long, and his eyes gray. He was a tall man, though not much older than William. He wore armor that glinted in the sun and had a long black cloak around him, which he shed as he stepped into the ring.

William stood silent, his weather-beaten and crimson cloak still in the wind. They looked at one another in silent challenge. Relma wondered what they were thinking of and who his opponent was?

"Who is this Joseph Korlac?" asked Relma.

"The son of a powerful Lord of Eastern Antion," said Reginald, bringing back a tray full of food and drink. He sat down and passed some to each of them. "He shares borders with the realm of Sorn, and his family is one of the richest. They are rivals with the Gabriels."

"They're a bunch of stuck-up prigs," snapped Hawkthorne as he came forward. He munched on a chicken leg and drank beer like a starving man. "They think they're better than the Hawkthornes. All just because of a couple of their ancestors. We founded the Kingdom of Escor and get no respect for it."

"I expect they think they are better because of the present state of your house," said Varsus. "And you didn't find Escor; you founded a completely different nation in the Fairy Hills. Which is now part of Escor."

"You shut your mouth, or I'll do it for you," snapped Hawkthorne.

"By all means-" began Varsus.

"Can we not start a fight in the stands?" asked Reginald, munching on some chicken leg and drinking beer. "I don't want to make a scene."

Hawkthorne looked down. "...Right, sorry, Reginald." He drew out a flask and drank from it before sitting down.

"I haven't heard much about these Korlacs?" said Relma, sipping her drink.

"If you must know, House Korlac is a very old and venerable family," said Varsus. "They have vast tracts of land and provide much of King Andoa's armies. Although recently, they've been shut out of politics because of certain factions. Corrupt officials tend to be paranoid about those who zealously enforce the law.

"They dwell on the critical borders with the nation of Sorn and stayed loyal when they seceded. Now House Gabriel is growing in power and threatening to take that from them. Nobles never give up anything easily."

"I know what William has done," said Relma. "But what sorts of things has Joseph done?"

"Not much. Not in war, I gather," said Varsus. "But that isn't his specialty.

"He is a very firm supporter of law and managed to shut down a large ring of smugglers. Several rings. Also, root out most of the bandit gangs in his dominions."

Finally, Korlac spoke, voice polite. "William Gabriel, I have heard stories of your valor upon the battlefield. It is my great honor to fight against so well-documented a foe on this field." Well-documented? Was that a compliment? "Your exploits have ensured the flow of malas into many lands legally."

"Korlac is almost hunting malas peddlers," said Reginald. "The House believes it shouldn't be sold at all. Though he missed a shipment recently. I heard rumors that the Sorcerer's Guild has people selling it in it."

"Written word passes away while deeds remain forever," said William. His voice held an edge. "And much news has come to me of your deeds as much as my own. But, no doubt, the footpads and thieves must cower at the mention of your name. Their knives and handaxes are nothing before the noose.

"Though I wonder if perhaps you find such lightly armored fair, poor sport."

"Ouch," said Reginald.

"A poor sport for a knight, but one in which all can be of service," said Korlac. "I take more pride in my successes at sea. Unfortunately, I gather your luck has been less good in that fashion."

"Far from it," said William. "For luck, good and ill, is defined by what you make of it. And I have made much of poor fortune. While you have gained much through many blessings bestowed on you."

"These two really hate each other," said Relma. Though it was good dialogue, she wondered if they'd rehearsed it.

"There is a saying that one is given the fortune which one shares with the world," said Korlac. The crowd cheered.

"I should not recite sayings which you have not put to the test," said William. "But enough of this; let us understand why we are here."

"So be it," said Korlac.

William drew his sword. And then it was like he was someone else entirely. He roared and charged forward with eyes flaring and shield raised. Obviously, Korlac was surprised, and the older noble was forced to yield ground. The crowds cheered as William's sword clipped Korlac's helm.

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The noble fell backward, and his helm fell from his head. His dark hair fell out as he rolled away from William's strikes. Then, rising quickly, he struggled to get up as William loomed over him, shield raised.

"Stand up, Sir Korlac.," said William.

Korlac rose with a stab upwards, and William stepped backward beneath his attacks. William ducked and weaved, nearing the edge of the ring. As he reached it, he slid to a halt and brought around his shield to bash against Korlac. The force of the blow sent Korlac reeling, and he was forced onto the defensive again.

They stepped in circles, slashing and bashing in a vicious fight. Then, at last, they separated, breathing heavily. William's flaming eyes blaze a bit less as Korlac held his ground. The dark-haired man's arm was shaking.

Then they rushed at each other. For a moment, they were closing, their cloaks flowing behind them in the morning light. Blade and blade were surging for a mark. Both swords caught the light, and there was a blinding flash.

Relma shielded her eyes from it as the crowd did, and the two had passed one another. William was turning, but Korlac was more nimble.

Korlac slammed his sword down onto William's shoulder. The boy fell to one knee and reeled back, catching himself on the one hand with a cry of pain. Then, blindly, he stabbed Korlac. There were sparks, and his blade was driven straight through Korlac's mail. Korlac gasped, blood pouring from his mouth.

William drew out his blade and fell to one knee. He struggled to stand, blood leaking from his mail. Korlac collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach. His black sword fell from his grasp, and he suddenly lunged forward.

Setting his hands on Korlac's shoulder, there was a flash of light. Then William fell to one knee and drew off his helmet to reveal his face. Korlac's stomach wound had healed.

Silence fell over the crowd as the two nobles looked at each other. Then, finally, the two rose, picking up their blades. "I apologize, Sir Korlac," said William. "I was too aggressive in my assault."

"I was not expecting it," admitted Korlac, holding his broken armor.

"That was the purpose," said William with a wince. "You broke my shoulder."

"I've never been injured like that before. It'll stay with me," said Korlac.

"Good," said William. "Pain is how we learn."

And then they kept on fighting. The crowd cheered as the combat continued, and William and Korlac continued to duel. Relma began to pick out differences. Korlac seemed to use the flow of combat to propel him, while William was always aggressive. At first glance, they seemed equally matched.

But William was stronger. His blows always seemed to land harder. Even so, he gave up several chances to knock him flat.

"This fight is over," said Varsus.

"What do you mean?" asked Relma.

"They're stalling," said Reginald. "Filling out the fight. The audience has come here to see a battle. Not a real fight.

"Real fights are over quickly."

"Yeah, especially when you fight Ajax," said Relma in agreement.

The cheers continued as the two of them dragged it on. William repeatedly slammed Korlac's shield until the shield bent and broke. How strong was he? He wasn't even all that older than her.

William shed his shield in a dramatic gesture that sent the crowd wild. The two held their blades two-handed and clashed against one another. Korlac was driven back before slipping to one knee and striking William's leg. Gabriel knocked the sword out of Korlac's hand, then put a blade to Korlac's throat.

"Yield," said William.

Korlac arose, raising his hand in good humor. "Consider me yielded."

William offered him a hand, and Korlac clasped it. The two shook, then turned to return to their places. They paused only to pick up their weapons as Davian proclaimed the victory.

"So what would happen if someone beat another fighter very quickly?" asked Relma.

"It would be a violation of courtesy," said Varsus. "Potentially a grave insult. Letting the other side seem like they stood a chance is a tradition.

"Even if they didn't."

"So you're supposed to avoid winning as long as possible?" said Relma.

"Yes," said Reginald. "The real trick is making it clear you could have won any time." This was complicated, wasn't it? Relma wondered if she shouldn't have done more research on the traditions. She'd never been to a tourney before.

Relma broke off and went to greet William as he came up the steps. He had his battered shield slung over his back and helmet under one arm. He looked exhausted. "Sir Gabriel, congratulations," said Relma.

"Thank you," said William, walking past.

Relma followed after him. He'd used healing magic earlier. That must have been the power he got from Elranor. But she couldn't heal a broken shoulder and be impaled without breaking a sweat. "So, uh, that was a really aggressive attack."

William grasped a skin and opened it before pouring water into his mouth. Then he pulled it down and stopped it. "I was trained by Raynald De Chevlon. He can't use a shield, so his fighting style is about the offense. Of course, I learned other fighting styles, but I felt an aggressive one would be best."

"It took me by surprise," said Relma.

"That was the idea," said William. "Put forth the image of a refined gentleman, then reveal me as a berserker."

"Is that why you wear the skull armor?" asked Relma, not putting any sarcasm into her voice. "Even though you're a paladin."

"There is never a circumstance where surprise cannot provide an advantage," said William. "You just need to find it. Unfortunately, I learned that the hard way in Khasmir."

"The circumstance or the advantage?" asked Relma.

"Yes," said William.

"Interesting philosophy." said another voice.

They looked up to see Joseph Korlac approaching. "My father taught me that deception is ultimately a poison. Men who gain a momentary advantage through wicked means may triumph for a day. But the very nature of their acts infects them, leading to their ultimate destruction."

"Deception is not an inherent evil," said William. "It may be used for evil. But when a man runs for his life from murderers, is it a good deed to point them in his direction?"

"I suppose it depends on the man's nature," said Korlac. "I admit, I wasn't expecting to win here. I was hoping to get past the first round, however."

"That's about all I'm hoping for," noted Relma.

William sighed. "I was hoping that in my first battle, I'd prove valiant and win a great victory. Instead, I cringed and nearly lost my life. The only decent thing I did during the battle was to leap into the sea to save a friend."

"How old were you?" asked Relma.

"Fourteen," said William.

"Right, of course; you are nearly sixteen now, aren't you?" asked Korlac.

"Yes," said William. "Though happily for some of those I saved on the road, not quite. Why do you ask?"

"No particular reason," said Korlac. "To have become a knight at so young an age is an impressive feat. I'm surprised I never heard of your knighting." But wait, Korlac was just a little older than William? Maybe a year.

"Yes," said William. "And news rarely travels quickly when one does not make a scene."

"Would Lady Raleen and Sir Hawkthorne come forward," said Davian. "Your match is about to begin."Relma nodded and walked over to Davian. She looked to Estela nervously, who raised a hand—wishing her good luck.

Relma was going to win this.