“Sir Alaykin, may I present to you your two top tier warriors! Royce Colton and Judd LaMogre!”

Judd held himself firm as Sir Alaykin looked down at them. Though he must have recognised Judd by now, there was no scorn in his eyes. The same could not be said for Dalain for Judd was sure he felt his eyes scraping over Judd like he was manure on the bottom of his shoe.

“Noble warriors, I commend you for your skill in battle.” Sir Alaykin announced. “Out of the two of you, one will be crowned the victor of the tournament. I look forward to your match.”

“And now,” the steward announced, “we will have a midday reprieve with some light entertainment.”

Judd escaped the ring and sank next to Oster on a hay bale, his armour slapped many times and spectators shaking his hand.

“Get that off,” Oster ordered, removing Judd’s helm, “and get this into you.”

Judd gulped at the wine, still breathing heavily from the match. “I wouldn’t like to go up against Eda Marione in a year or two. He’s good.”

“This place is an excellent testing ground for new fighters.” Oster nodded. “Mark my words if Marione doesn’t become one of Alaykin’s soldiers when he eventually wins this tournament. That said, you’re the one who won that match.”

“He got one of my shields.” Judd muttered.

“Lucky blow.” Oster said then clipped Judd over the head. “Just like that.”

“Yeah, I know, I wasn’t expecting it.” Judd looked at the bottom of his cup. “No more?”

“Not unless you want to try to relieve yourself while wearing armour cause I’m not doing all those fiddly catches and ties up twice in one day.”

Judd chuckled.

“Well done, LaMogre.”

“Can’t wait to see how you fare against Colton!”

Judd nodded as people complimented and commented. He glanced at the balcony where Sir Alaykin was enjoying his midday repast.

“Dalain recognised me.” Judd said quietly.

“That was inevitable really.”

“I didn’t think I’d meant that much to him.”

“You didn’t. Thugs like Thiery don’t recall those they humiliated. But I would wager Sir Alaykin would and he might have mentioned, in passing and with more than a drop of condescension, that Dalain must have been mistaken in his assessment of you.”

“I don’t know why.” Judd huffed. “Alaykin would probably just think I was shaming during the ‘training’ with Dalain.”

“To what end?” Oster peered into Judd’s face. “It makes no sense. However, if Dalain lied about the degree to which he thrashed you…”

“But he didn’t.”

“And yet, here you are.” Judd was given a plate with roasted chicken on it. He removed his right gauntlet and filled his hungry belly. “Don’t satiate your hunger. You don’t want to be so full that you can’t move.”

“Yes sir.” Judd chewed. He wanted to look up at the balcony again but knew every time he did so, the tension in his body increased.

Caste was permitted to sit in Alaykin’s balcony with a superb view of the fighting ring. He had wanted to lean out over the wall to watch what happened but instead, tried to appear indifferent, as if, somehow, he could convince himself that he was so. Bede talked to him almost endlessly and seemed utterly appeased by Caste’s noises and vague answers.

Food was a welcome distraction and Caste was about to put a piece of perfectly roasted pheasant into his mouth when he heard Judd’s name spoken.

“…surprised to see how far LaMogre has ascended in the tiers, let alone now to be facing off against the only person standing in his way to winning.” Sir Alaykin tilted his head, studying Dalain. “Perhaps your assessment of his abilities was somewhat…lacking?”

“The whelp could have been bested by a child with a wooden sword.” Dalain grunted.

“I see no whelp.”

“He wasn’t wearing armour when he came to me for training.”

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“Ah, of course…that must make all the difference.” Alaykin’s voice was mordant and Caste could see Dalain bristle like a vicious dog desperate to be let off his chain.

“Royce Colton will make swift work of him in the final tier. Judd LaMogre, armour or no, won’t stand a chance. His shields will fall.”

“Had I not seen him fight with my own two eyes, I might have agreed blindly with you before but now I will reserve judgement.”

Caste took a bite of his pheasant and chewed without tasting it, wishing he was anywhere but on the balcony. However, he couldn’t run away now. Not even the irritatingly inaccurate minstrel’s melodies were enough to drive him from the balcony.

If Judd LaMogre’s quest for knighthood was to end in that ring, Caste would have to bear witness.

A blast of the horns announced the end of the midday meal. Judd looked at Oster.

“Nearly time.” Oster checked over his armour. “You know you’re up against the toughest fighter of the entire tournament?”

“I know,” Judd whispered, “I saw what he did to the last person he was matched against in the middle tier.”

Royce Colton fought with a heavy axe and had the muscles to wield it well. Colton’s middle tier opponent had fled the ring howling, his arm hanging uselessly by his side. It was possible Colton had broken his collarbone, using the blunt side of the axe as a club.

“He’s strong but slow. You’re going to have to dodge his blows because any of them that connect with you, will kill you. And if your shield gets in the way, you’ll lose it.”

Judd nodded, shaking. “How do I beat him?”

“Tire him out. He might be strong but he can’t wield that thing effectively for long. Eventually he’ll get sloppy and you’ll have no problem breaking his shield. Hey,” Oster snapped his fingers in front of Judd’s face, drawing his attention to his eyes, “lean into your strengths and don’t let him target your weaknesses.”

“Sir Alaykin, sword master Dalain, ladies and gentlemen of the court and to all those present, we call forth two great warriors who will go head to head in this ring for a chance for glory,” the crowd shouted as the steward put all his effort into his announcement, “for the honour,” another shout, “and the title of Fort Bastil’s tournament champion!”

The crowd roared their approval and the clatter of armour as Judd’s nerves caused him to shake, was lost in the cacophony.

“Warriors, present yourselves.”

Judd moved towards the ring, the crowd parting for him to do so, his armour rapped by those closest to him while those who could not reach him, applauded and cheered. He held on tightly to his helm with one arm, grasping the hilt of his sword with the other and ducked his head beneath the top rope of the ring. After the claustrophobic press of the spectators, the emptiness of the ring was both welcomed and alarming.

For while there were only two other people in it, one of them was Royce Colton. He was built even more heavily than Dalain and would have given the ogre a run for his money in an ugly competition. He brandished his axe and flexed his muscles.

“Royce Colton,” the steward turned to Judd, “Judd LaMogre…acknowledge each other.”

Judd held out his hand and was relieved it was clad in a gauntlet for Royce’s eyes glimmered at the opportunity to bestow a prebattle blow. Judd knew he was not winning any support because of his confidence. He could only imagine how small he had to look compared to Royce.

“Lean into my strengths. Protect my weaknesses.” Judd repeated softly.

“Judd LaMogre, are you ready?”

Judd smacked his shield.

“Royce Colton, are you ready?”

Royce did the same, his deep set eyes glowering at Judd.

“Fight!”

Judd immediately moved out from the corner of the ring. Though it meant he was getting closer to Royce, he could not afford to be pinned into a tight space as Royce wound up for a skull crushing, rib shattering blow. Judd dove out of the way, the armour protecting him but also stiffening his movements. He scrambled to his feet to see that Royce was already coming at him, his axe swinging wildly. Judd’s courage all but deserted him and he leapt back, instinctively raising his shield, a hard blow shattering the wood.

The crowd booed and cheered, depending upon their betting preference.

Royce chuckled darkly and moved away.

“Round one to Royce Colton!”

Judd sighed and went back to his corner where Oster was waiting.

“I know,” Judd said before Agress could berate him, “I let him intimidate me.”

“You’ve got tire him out and for that, you need to move faster.” Oster insisted, strapping on the second shield. “How’s your arm?”

“I felt the blow but without the gauntlet, I think it’d be broken.”

“Treat him like a big fish you’re trying to reel in.”

Judd looked over at Royce who smiled at him and not in a nice way.

“I hate fishing.” Judd muttered and stood up.

“Judd LaMogre, are you ready?”

Judd hesitated smacking his shield for when he did, he couldn’t escape the match.

And in that moment of silence, he heard Dalain snort derisively.

The trauma of the beating he had received from Dalain returned to Judd with a vengeance. Suddenly he wanted to be anywhere else other than the ring. Royce rushed Judd whose distracted brain had turned the noise around him into dull thuds. Judd had barely enough time to duck out of the way but instead of turning and attacking, he scampered to the other side of the ring, booed and jeered at, all his supporters dissipating. As Royce charged again, Judd tried to get around him but Royce’s reach was wide with his axe. It collided with Judd’s shield, shattering it and knocking him off his feet, his body slamming into the ropes of the ring.

The crowd cheered loudly as Royce bellowed like a bull.

“Round two to Royce Colton!”

“Come on, LaMogre!” Judd heard Oster order. “It’s not over yet!”

Judd stayed on the ground, his arm throbbing with a terrible pain. It was possible Colton had fractured his forearm and his shoulder hurt as well. He yanked his gauntlet off and flexed his fingers, feeling the sinews of his arm scream.

“I can’t do this…” He gasped, his face close to the ground, his eyesight swimming. “I can’t…”

“Judd, get up.” The gentle voice next to his ear reached him with remarkable clarity and he lifted his eyes and saw Aalis kneeling at the edge of the crowd, so close he could see her dreadlocks hiding within her hood, her fingers clutching the rope, her eyes soft and pleading. Judd started to shake his head. Aalis reached her other hand out and clasped his injured wrist. He felt a rush of cool strength flowing from her grasp all the way up his arm, almost as if she was imbuing him with steel like strength. Her eyes blazed with intensity, the colour in them shifting from the hue of straw to a dark amber that sparked with golden light. “I said, get…up!”