Silence reigned in the court as they digested what the Grandmaster of Fire and the current headmaster of the royal college of magic had said. A disturbance in the far right of the court caught the attention of all. As one man waddled through the court, pushing through the nobles and royal footmen.

“This farce has gone on long enough! That cat belongs to me! Let me through!” He shouted.

Liam recognized the voice despite having never heard it with his own ears. Green’s memories were full of this man’s shouting and blustering. One of the few people the old drunk had never been able to forget was his liege lord, Viscount Blackwood.

“The mongrel called Nyota is my property your majesty. One of my maids no less! I apologize to yourself and the court for the affront my subject has caused your honourable majesty. Please allow me to punish him-”

“Punish me? You hide here in the capital while our lands burn and you would punish me?” Shouted Liam, unable to control his fury at the man who should have saved Avignon and Petra.

Blackwood’s outriders should have interceeded, his knights were in Avignon but refused to fight. He’d even sent mercenaries as far as Mont St Michel only for them to flee before unknown monstrosities.

The king’s insult had already pushed Liam to the limits of his temper. Now he was a coiled spring, waiting to rebound against the smallest provocation. One more and his back would break, freeing his lightning. Blackwood shot to his feet, advancing on Liam with his open hand raised.

Ohhhhh hell no. You don’t get to insult my wife and slap me. I’ll kill you.

Baron Green had little martial prowess, but many jilted lovers had slapped him. An occurrence that became so common it became predictable, practiced. One hundred slaps in, Green learned to counter. With only a few (dozen) lessons from Arlet.

Liam stepped towards Blackwood, halting the man’s forward movement by pressing his right palm against his portly belly, pivoting on his toes he balled his left fist. He aimed for the Viscount’s chin, swinging with all of his might. Not allowing himself to be deceived by the two false chins below the first.

Blackwood never saw it coming, too focused on putting on a circus of loyalty he failed to consider Liam might resist. Not even when the fist connected with his jaw, or when he flopped backwards onto the floor did he comprehend Liam’s intent.

“You sniveling dog! Your refusal to answer my calls for aid is why I have come before the king. Yet here you are! Hiding like a coward from your duties in the luxury of court! Do not address me again. Do not speak to my wife or I will take my satisfaction from your worthless life! Just as I took Nyota from your degenerate son.” Shouted Liam, spittle flying as he screamed at the supine man.

“My son? What did you do to Oliver?” Blathered Blackwood, rubbing his jaw with one hand.

Liam peeled off the glove he wore over his catboy hand, tossing it with enough force to smack Blackwood in the nose.

“I killed him in a duel of honor. Pick up that glove and I will show you the last thing he ever saw.” Goaded Liam.

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Blackwood’s mouth dropped open for the three seconds it took to process Liam’s words, looking from Liam’s glove to his face and back again. Then his face twisted into a sneer of disbelief.

“Accept his challenge Blackwood. A dozen Archbishops rebelled against him and my own royal magicians stand as witnesses for a slave… This chaos is unprecedented. Hear me, had Taloc himself not heralded your arrival all four of you would be vivisected before the court. But he did… So l will let Therun Taloc judge you in a trial by combat.” Ordered the King.

Blackwood picked up the glove and looked at it for a moment. No doubt considering soiling the garment in some sordid manner. Then he handed it to Arlet, the sign of a duel accepted.

“If it’s to be a trial by combat, I would ask the court to provide champions, a champion of combat and a champion of magic, to match the Baron’s own stable.” Sneered Blackwood, emphasizing the word ‘stable’ as he looked at Nyota.

“Very well, my own blade and the first chair of my battlemages shall be your champions.” Announced the king.

“As Therun Perun Taloc is my witness, I will fight in this duel myself, with Lady Nyota at my side.” Answered Liam, matching the viscount’s emphasis with his own.

Meanwhile a robed mage who had been standing at the grandmaster’s side came forward, his hooked nose blinking at the prospect of human incineration.

“As the first battle mage of the college of fire it will be an honour to fight for your majesty.” He said.

The Wolf-masked champion stepped forward, bowing to King Aldric before he advanced, greatsword in one hand.

“I am the king’s blade. The wrath of his will. I accept your challenge Baron William Green, Should you lack Taloc’s favor I will slay you both.” Growled the eight foot tall man.

“May you find the Elysium fields in death.” Answered Arlet, stepping forward for their rematch. He stepped in front of Nyota, as if he could take her place in the duel by mere positioning.

Crap. I slipped off shit-mountain and fell into Dwayne the -Furry- Rock Johnson! That man must weigh five hundred pounds! I thought medieval people were supposed to be skinny and malnourished. But this dude looks like an advertisement for Testosterone Replacement Therapy.

Liam caught Arlet’s shoulder.

“I appreciate the gesture Arlet. Truly I do. But, what kind of man claims the favor of god then allows another to fight in his stead? This is one battle you cannot fight for me.” Whispered Liam, turning to the king and stepping forward before his champion could stop him.

Nyota danced on Liam’s coattails, clinging so closely to his shadow she seemed to disappear into it. Knights with pavises surrounded the four combatants, forming a square arena. Royal footmen cleared the space giving them a forty foot wide and forty foot long square to battle within. As they maneuvered Liam found himself reflecting on the actions that had led to this moment, pondering the thousand details that had gone so horribly wrong.

“Your majesty! May I speak?” Called Liam, realizing he had not yet asked for the king’s aid.

“You have not needed my permission thus far.” Sneered the king.

Liam did not reply, knowing that he would only aggravate the king if he did so. King Aldric saw that he was waiting for permission and relented.

“Fine! Say your peace.” Grumbled King Aldric.

“Thank you, your majesty. I came here to give you a warning, my lands suffer an invasion of monsters, without your aid my people will starve within the month. Our cities are besieged by monsters of legend who burst out of the aether. Even my own house is under siege and I am powerless to protect my people. In the past month half of my citizens have fallen, as have half my cities. I fear that when we perish this invasion will spread to other lands.” Pleaded Liam.

“Begin the duel.” Announced the king. His face a mask of craven obsidian.