“If it’s okay with young Haldi and his father, then yes.”
Haldi nodded his head vigorously towards the head table. “I’ll do it, Your Majesty. Please let me.”
“Then it’s settled. You’ll have your competition, Keplin. Win or lose, there will be no hard feelings for either of us. How does that sound?”
“But of course.”
The king ordered servants to clear away a few dozen silver tables so that the boys would have somewhere to spar within the centre of the crowd.
While the preparations were underway, Nolan looked at the quiet couple from across the table and asked, “Commander Hueler’s son. What do you think his odds are of winning?”
When Katerina hesitated Reynolds took the liberty of answering. “The boy named Recks will probably win. Haldi’s older brother was scouted by an elder of one of those western sects just like that man is trying to do with the prince now. He’s got a lot of talent and I’d imagine he gets in plenty of combat practice as the son of the strongest soldier in the lands. Still, the other boy is a disciple of one of those big sects and a direct disciple at that.”
“Not just that,” said Katerina. “They’re both at the seventh level of Profound Entry, but that other boy should know a couple of martial skills. They’re probably higher quality than any of the ones passed down in the royal family so that might tip the balance.”
“Kat, they just said that there aren’t any martial skills or anything allowed. I figured Haldi would lose because martial sects exist for the sole purpose of training the body and mind. He might be Commander Hueler’s son, but he doesn’t live and breathe combat. I just hope he holds his own, the poor kid.”
“Then why are they letting this happen? That’s the commander’s son! They should just make those scamps leave our valley.”
“Phht,” said Ian through a mouthful of food. “The way I see it, that prince there is going with them either way. Haldi’s just a scapegoat for the beating and shame that’ll come with being defeated in front of so many people.”
“That can’t be right,” said Katerina. “Why would the king allow his best friend’s son to be humiliated in front of such a crowd?”
“Because his son is a commoner. Think about it Kat. How bad it would look on the kingdom if word got out that the crown prince was beat up at the main feast of the Summertide Festival by the disciple of an honoured guest? For both the king and the commander, this is probably the better of two evils. That poor boy simply has no say in the matter.”
“That’s not true!” The table’s attention fell upon Esteban, who was looking over at Haldi with concern in his eyes. “He’s just sticking up for his friend.”
“Either way,” sighed Reynolds, “Haldi’s going to have it tough with this one.”
It wasn’t long before a large square of space had opened up at the centre of the scene, young Haldi on one side while Recks began a confident stretch on the opposing end. Along one edge of the perimeter of the fighting space stood the royal family along with Cera and the rest of the people from her table, though King Caimen, Commander Hueler and the elder that had invited Nolan and his friends to the feast all floated directly above the makeshift area. Keplin on the other hand didn’t get up from the head table and instead continued eating as if uninterested in the spectacle that he’d pushed so hard to create. Such an attitude planted a seed of worry in Nolan’s heart.
“Kick his ass, Haldi!” Esteban had stood up on his chair once again, which earned him more than a few echoes, exclamations and applauses of agreeance. Because of this, Nolan let him stay up on his seat.
He caught Keplin looking over in their direction as the short, pepper-haired man tossed a grape into his mouth. As their eyes connected Nolan pulled back his robe, patted the spatial bag tied to the belt of fabric that held up his soft trousers, and then sent the man an exaggerated wink. How satisfying it felt to watch the curtain of cool slip from the man’s aged face, to see the large veins that gained prominence on his forehead as Nolan blatantly laughed in his direction. From the moment that he’d won the black halmite he firmly believed that this man would seize the first opportunity to cause trouble for them, so he gladly dipped into the old bag of tricks and taunts that he’d made use of so many times during his days as a delinquent in Collinsville.
“Why’re you egging him on?” asked Ian. “He’s just another problem I don’t want to deal with.”
“Just because you don’t wanna deal with him doesn’t mean you won’t have to. He’s not exactly the forgive and forget type.”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“He can definitely hear us you know.”
“Yeah with those bitch little ears of his.”
They entertained a quiet chuckle amidst the silence, though they stopped once the king signalled for the match to begin.
The boy named Recks flew forward the moment that the signal was given and kicked Haldi hard in the gut, though the latter grabbed hold of the former’s leg, spun on the spot and then hurled him into the audience. Recks appeared a second later with anger in his eyes as he unleashed rapid barrage of punches and kicks upon his opponent.
Haldi’s eyes were all concentration as he retreated backward while blocking and countering the other boy’s strikes, though it soon became clear that Recks held a slight advantage.
While the fight continued, Reynolds leaned in close and whispered to the group. “Hey guys, do you feel like a lot of people are looking at our table?”
Nolan was aware of the several dozen pairs of eyes that were currently fixed upon him despite the fight for the prince of Ridgerock’s fate. Keplin hadn’t stopped glaring at him, so it was only natural that people would follow his gaze. Not just that, but it seemed that a good number of people recognized his face from the challenge of the royal plaza.
Cries rang throughout the area as Haldi’s voice filled the air like the dying caw of a sickly crow. He’d lost his balance and suffered a strong kick to the face, and before he could stand the other boy had leapt into the air and landed on the centre of his back with a stomp. The crack that resounded throughout the plaza told everyone present that Haldi would never walk again, and the globe of inner essence that surrounded Recks spoke of Commander Hueler’s wrath. Before the energy could contract and take Recks’s life, it was suddenly extinguished. The king’s father had stilled Hueler with a hand, eyes red as he shook his head and then gently summoned Haldi’s broken body from the centre of the fighting area.
“Hahahahaha!” Keplin tilted his head to avoid the knife that the young prince had just thrown at him, and continued laughing as the queen restrained her rabid son. “Do not be so upset, young prince! You will be treated very well in our sect!”
Nolan’s heart broke as he watched Cera and her husband hurry to heal their child with their own internal energies. He was just lamenting over what pity it was when he sensed Esteban’s aura abruptly switch places.
The pale, frizzy-haired boy had leapt into the open space before any of the group realized what a foolish decision he’d just made.
“Fight me you piece of shit!”
Although the sudden development wasn’t particularly in their best interests, Nolan was suddenly grateful that Esteban had taken to his profanity.
Confusion swept the crowd alongside the anger and frustration that filled the fibres of every citizen present, and even many of the guests. While people appreciated the sentiment and bravery behind the action, the fact remained that Esteban was at the third level the Profound Entry stage, while Recks was at the seventh and clearly capable of taking on people at the eighth.
“Stop your friend!” said Reynolds. “Hurry!”
Recks simply laughed in Esteban’s face, but before the latter could make a move a light film of spiritual energy suddenly transported him back to Nolan’s table.
“Your courage is commendable, young lad, but what’s done is done.” The king’s father spoke in a gentle tone and yet all within the plaza could hear him, his yellow robe ruffled by a cool breeze.
“Hold on.”
Everyone looked toward Keplin, who’d suddenly stood from his seat with eagerness spilling from his eyes. “I told you, Caimen, that I’m a fair man. I say let them fight. If this child here manages to win, then I will reward him with my marrow mending pellet. If he loses, then his friend there has to hand over the black halmite that he won at your father’s little game earlier.” The devious man looked over at Nolan. “Of course, so long as that boy there isn’t so greedy that he would value a hunk of ore over a young boy’s life.”
“Don’t do it, Nolan. Harming Esteban won’t help my boy!”
Hueler looked at his wife as she cried out toward Nolan, and then followed her gaze. Nolan stared at them for a moment and then gave them a confident nod.
“I’ll be back guys.” He leapt over a hundred metres to land directly in front of Keplin. “Hey Old Man Winter. Do you have any more of those pellets?”
“You dare to speak to my master like—”
“Hey, it’s the guy that cheated and still lost at the royal challenge that I breezed through!
“You dare—”
“Yeah, I dare. And did anyone ask you? No? Then shut the fuck up and let the grown-ups talk.”
The stem of an apple flew towards his eye fast enough to blind someone at the sixth level of Profound Entry, though it stopped a few centimetres away from Nolan’s right iris and landed to the ground with a harmless clatter as spiritual energy began to dissipate.
As if nothing had happened, Nolan scoffed. “What, you can talk shit to anyone who’s stronger than you, but the second someone does it to you it hurts your fragile little feelings? Hahaha, are all the elders of the Nightshadow Sect so soft? I’m suddenly more proud of my master.”
With everyone’s eyes on him, Keplin snorted and said, “I have one more, though I won’t risk it.”
“Bet it. If my disciple there loses then not only can you have this black halmite, but I’ll hold my neck out for you to slit my throat.” He turned to face the crowd. “I swear to all of you looking at me that this is a legit proposal. Members of the Earth Sect don’t go back on their word!”
Hushed conversations drifted through the crowd like the breeze that continued to ruffle the robes of everyone present.
“What about Haldi’s friend?” yelled Esteban from where Sean was holding him by the shoulders in a firm grip. “Who cares about that pellet? Let’s save Haldi’s friend!”
Nolan looked over at Keplin. “You heard him. If Esteban wins then the prince stays here and you also have to hand over that marrow mending pellet. If your guy wins then the halmite is yours and I’ll also let you kill me. How does that sound? Unless you’re too scared, then me and my buddies will just leave you to your scumbaggery and hit the road.”
“Ha!” called a red-faced Keplin. “For a deal so generous to me, I’d even wager my soul.”
“I don’t want some shitty thing like that.”