Blood Of The Righteous

by J. E. Sandoval

  “I left her at the castle with the nanny. I don’t want her to see blood spilled at such a young age. Gabriel, I am praying for you.”

  “Thank you, Lady Eddington,” he replied. “I can use all the prayer I can get.”

  When they got to the holding area, a knight bearing the white and violet sigil of Gaul was waiting for them. “Brother Gabriel,” the knight said with a thick accent, “I am Sir Philippe Du Rouge. Your brother explained to me the situation. I would be honored if you would take my armor and unseat that sorry excuse for a judicial champion.”

  “Thank you, Sir Du Rouge. You know Sir Marcus?” Gabriel asked.

  “I do, indeed. He murdered a cousin of mine in the judicial pits, a fight he should have, by all accounts, lost hands down. So, how do you feel?”

  David put his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “My brother is in top fighting form. We made sure Eddington’s goons couldn’t get near him.”

  The Gaul nodded in approval. “Oui, this is good. Here, let me help you get suited up.”

  They took the next fifteen minutes getting Gabriel into the armor. Fortunately, Sir Du Rouge had the same build as Gabriel. Half way through, the delivery of the five lances was made.

  A pair of squires wearing Eddington livery entered the holding area carrying armor and lances, Lord Eddington right behind them.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Eddington raged. “You would disrespect a lord of Aragil to the point of refusing his gift of armor and lances?”

  Sir Du Rouge walked over and examined the armor. “You, Lord Eddington would disrespect Brother Gabriel by putting him in an early grave! This armor would take one or two hits at the most!” He knocked on the armor, producing a loud ringing.

  “Nonsense! What do you know of such things?” Lord Richard demanded.

  “I have been tournament champion in New Paris for the last four years, Eddington! You may have pulled off your knavery with untrained eyes, but not mine! I spit on this so called armor of yours.” Sir Du Rouge spat at Eddington’s feet.

  “Fine. Then it will be in your armor that Sir Marcus will put this churcher to the ground!” Eddington spun and walked out. He snapped his fingers and the two squires humbly followed.

  Du Rouge came back over to Gabriel and resumed buckling the final buckles.

  “What was wrong with the armor?” David asked.

  The knight grinned. “It was too light. If Sir Marcus had tipped his lance, it could have gone right through Brother Gabriel’s heart.”

  They all chuckled.

  “Okay, Brother Gabriel, you are ready. Here, let me help.” Sir Du Rouge helped Gabriel up onto his large war horse. Thunder nickered a bit at the extra weight. “I will join Lord David with you on the lists. What I said about my jousting skills was true.”

  “Thank you. I shall do my best to avenge your cousin,” Gabriel said.

  “I know you will, Brother Gabriel.” He grabbed the horse by the reins and led it out into the stadium yard, David behind him carrying the long lances.

  The stadium erupted in a chorus of boos and hisses as they came into view. A few of the commoners threw cabbages and tomatoes at them.

  “Pay the rabble no mind, Brother Gabriel,” Du Rouge said. “They show their own ignorance.”

  The crowd erupted into cheers at the entry of Sir Marcus. He waved to them and was rewarded by bouquets of flowers being thrown towards him. Several young women even exposed their breasts to him.

  Gabriel looked to Sir Du Rouge quizzically.

  “It happens, Brother Gabriel. These contests attract all kinds.”

  David handed Gabriel a lance. “Knock him on his ass, brother!”

  Gabriel sat ready atop his sturdy warhorse, shield on his left hand, lance in his right. Everything depended on the next few minutes. He was certain that he would survive the encounter, but better to defeat him now than to have David kill him tonight. It was an option, but not a desirable one. In fact, if he allowed David to go through with it, would he be forced to join The Fallen? No, now wasn’t the time to think about it.

  The flag was dropped, he signaled with his heels, and his stallion charged. Gabriel clung tightly with his knees. The thundering of the horses’ galloping feet drowned out the screams of the crowd. Sir Marcus was getting closer, his joust aimed directly at his shield. Gabriel hoisted the lance into the cradle and braced.

  The blow felt like a hammer to his chest. He fell back, briefly staring up at sun. He gave a quick glance at his lance. It was intact. “Damn it!” he yelled. At least he was still on his horse, which had slowed. He dropped the lance and hoisted himself back upright into the saddle. David and Sir Du Rouge ran over to him while he caught his breath.

  Over on the other side, Sir Marcus was showing his destroyed lance off to the crowd, who roared with delight. A quick glance over towards Sir Eddington made Gabriel want to hop off his horse and carve that smug smile off of his face.

  “Brother Gabriel,” Sir Du Rouge yelled while David fetched his lance. “Brother Gabriel, is okay. It was only one point. Focus, lad. Focus.”

  David handed Gabriel the undamaged lance. “You can do it, brother! Don’t get frustrated.”

  “The match stands one lance to none!” The announcer yelled as he placed the small white flag in the appropriate peg. The crowd cheered wildly.

  Gabriel signaled his ready, as did Sir Marcus. The flag dropped.

  “Hyah!” Gabriel yelled as he kicked the horse with his heels. Again the thundering footfalls of the horse blocked out the crowd. Again he got the lance in the cradle as Sir Marcus drew closer. And again, he was hit like a hammer without his lance landing a blow.

  His horse galloped to a stop. He caught his breath again, cursing his poor performance.

  “Brother Gabriel!” Sir Du Rouge yelled. “Listen, he always strikes you hard on the left side of your shield. This time, roll to the left and point your lance upward. If fortunate favors you, you will strike him in the head and it will make you even, oui?”

  Gabriel nodded, panting.

  David led the horse to the proper place. “Roll and raise, Brother.”

  Again, the flag was dropped. Again, he kicked with his heels and charged. Gabriel leaned forward and put the lance in the cradle. “Roll and raise. Roll and raise. Roll and raise.” As Sir Marcus drew close, Gabriel rolled his shoulder to the left and brought his lance up. It struck Sir Marcus solidly in his head and shattered.

  The crowd roared its disapproval in a collective boo. Gabriel glanced over towards Eddington, who was standing, shouting something angrily to Sir Marcus. He dropped the shattered lance onto the ground.

  “You did it, Brother!” David screamed running over. He quickly fetched Gabriel a new lance.

  “Maybe I have a future in coaching, oui?” the Gaullian knight asked. “Listen, he won’t fall for that again. He will most likely try to roll his shield again, so strike him on the right. His armor will protect him, but you will land a blow. Even if he hits you, it will be a draw and you shall advance to the sword.”

  Gabriel nodded as he took the lance from his brother.

  The flag again dropped and Gabriel spurred his horse into a sprint. The lance tucked into the cradle and Gabriel again leaned forward. As Sir Marcus approached, Gabriel moved his lance to the right. It struck! An instant later he felt like an anvil had dropped on his chest. The world spun as he flipped over backwards. His breath left him as he hit hard on the ground face down. He had failed.

  Gabriel pounded the ground in frustration as the crowd booed. “Oh, El! I’m so sorry,” he said, not lifting his face from the dirt. Wait, why was the crowd booing?

  “Gabriel!” David screamed rushing to his side. “Gabriel, you did it! You knocked him on his ass!”

  “Oui! You should have seen his eyes widen as he was knocked back! It was beautiful!” Sir Du Rouge and David each grabbed an arm and lifted him to his
feet.

  The Gaullian knight began loosening the buckles to get him out of jousting mode. David removed the stunned Holy Defender’s helmet.

  Gabriel breathed deep. The crowd was on their feet, howling with rage. The announcer stood up and called for quiet.

  “The match is a draw! Contestants, proceed to the sword area!”

  The sword area was a four leg by four leg fenced in square, almost right up against the crowd.

  “David, go and fetch the other helmet and his sword! Très vite! Vite, vite, vite!!!”

  David nodded and ran back to their waiting area.

  “And get some water!” Sir Du Rouge yelled. He went back to loosening the various buckles so as to maximize Gabriel’s agility. “I’ll bet you that Marcus is ready to pass a brick. The swordsmanship of Holy Defenders is legendary.”

  Gabriel was still breathing heavy. “What do you think his… tactics will be,” he said between panting breaths.

  “He will most likely be very desperate. Be extra careful. He has never lost a sword fight.”

  “Neither have I,” Gabriel replied.

  Gabriel looked over towards Sir Marcus. One of the knight’s young squires was lying on the ground unconscious, most likely punched with a gauntleted fist out of frustration. Tension and nervousness were written across Marcus’ face.

  Eddington was pacing back and forth, hands balled up behind his back. He was furious.

  David returned with the items requested. He handed the water to Gabriel and the helmet to Sir Du Rouge. Gabriel took a big long drink from the waterskin, then handed it back to David.

  The helmet, which gave him a much better view of his surroundings, was attached to the armor by Du Rouge. David handed him his sword. He was ready. The three walked over to the entrance to the sword area and Gabriel entered, as did Sir Marcus.

  The announcer stood and silenced the booing crowd. “The rules are the first to strike seven consecutive blows wins. There is no pause of the match when a blow is struck. Are you both ready?”

  Sir Marcus raised his sword to signal his ready. Gabriel did the same.

  “Don’t let me down, Marcus!” Sir Eddington said, sitting back down.

  “Begin!”

  Gabriel immediately went into a defensive stance. He gripped his sword with both hands and began to circle. Marcus was cautious for a few seconds, them flew into a series of wild blows. Gabriel deflected them with ease. After seven wild strikes, Gabriel stepped back at an overhand chop. The knight’s sword struck the ground and Gabriel landed two well-placed blows, one on his chest, then one on his side. Sir Marcus backed up, eyes wide with disbelief.

  “Kill him, Marcus!” Eddington screamed at the top of his lungs.

  The large knight stabbed at Gabriel’s exposed face, which was easily slapped aside. Gabriel countered by swinging low, catching Marcus on his thigh plate. The metal on metal clang rung out, causing the crowd to go wild with anger.

  Marcus backed up, switching tactics to a defensive stance. Gabriel cautiously moved in and feigned a low strike. Gabriel brought his sword down and with lightning speed, swung hard, hitting Sir Marcus’ helmet on the side with the flat of his blade. The loud sound momentarily disoriented the large knight, but that was all Gabriel needed. He scored three quick strikes across Marcus’ mid section, thus ending the match.

  “Victory to Brother Gabriel, seven strikes to none!” the announcer yelled.

  Gabriel heaved a sigh of relief. He pointed his sword at the stunned judicial champion. “Renounce your claim on my sister, or I will run you through.”

  Sir Marcus dropped his sword. “Please, Brother Gabriel, show me mercy. I renounce my claim on Eleenia Ki Kalendeen!”

  Gabriel nodded, turned, and began to walk over to David and Sir Du Rouge. He saw their eyes go wide, and in an instant he turned around and swung his sword. Sir Marcus had a dagger in his hand and was about to plunge it into Gabriel’s back, but instead, Gabriel’s sword cleaved his hand from his wrist.

  The bloody hand, still clutching the dagger, sailed into the crowd, landing in the lap of a stunned Lord Eddington. Fortunately for him, it landed blade up.

  The large knight fell to his knees and screamed in anguish, clutching the bloody stump of his sword arm.

  “You did it!” David screamed, running to his brother. He gave him a congratulatory hug.

  “Indeed, you did,” Sir Du Rouge said, patting him on his armored back. “And you ended that charlatan’s career. Well done. Now come on, let’s celebrate!”

  Gabriel shook his head. “No, Sir Du Rouge, we are heading back to the Golden Dragon, collecting our effects, and heading from Avonshire as soon as bloody possible.”

  * * * * * *

  David, Gabriel, and Eleenia sat alone in the warm, humid common room of the Golden Dragon Inn. Sir Du Rouge and the crew of the Waverunner had all come and given Gabriel their congratulations, and thanked him for making them a sizable profit.

  Eleenia set down her cup of sweet wine. “I knew you would come through for me, Gabriel. Thank you so much! Father would have been so proud of you.”

  “Did you see the look on Eddington’s face when the hand landed in his lap? He is damn lucky the knife didn’t hit the family jewels,” David said.

  Eleenia laughed. “Even if it had, that’s a mighty small target according to his wife.”

  Gabriel looked down and blushed, which caused El and David to laugh even harder. “What do you think will become of Sir Marcus?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

  “Sir Marcus killed himself.”

  The all looked towards the door. Sir Eddington was standing there, flanked by guards. He pompously strode into the room.

  “Took the coward’s way out, did he?” Gabriel asked. “A man who tries to stab someone from behind? To be honest, I’m not in the least bit surprised.

  The guards cringed, expecting Eddington to fly into a rage. Instead, he remained composed. “Your family has caused me no end of grief. Within the hour, I want the three of you on horseback heading north, never to return.” He snapped his fingers and a serving girl brought over four more drinks. “Congratulations, but let that be the end of it. If I never see a Ki Kalendeen again for the rest of my days, it will be far too soon.” He picked up the cup of white wine.

  “The feeling is shared mutually about you, but not the rest of your family, Lord Eddington,” Eleenia said. They all reached for the drink refills.

  Eddington raised his cup in salute. “To the end of our association.”

  “Hear, hear,” they all said before draining their cups.

  A corner of Eddington’s lips curled up in a devious half grin. “Any second now, gentlemen,” he said towards the door.

  General Sagaroth and Dameus strolled into the room. “Well, well, David. I never expected to see you again.”

  David’s eyes went wide with terror. “Sagaroth!” He jumped to his feet and reached for his sword. Gabriel was also up in an instant, sword drawn. Eleenia stood up and got behind her brother.

  “He’s the hellspawn bastard then?” Gabriel asked. “I will not suffer you to live you… you...” Gabriel started sweating profusely and his vision started to blur.

  “Eddington, you traitorous dog!” David said as he stumbled to his knees.

  Eleenia went unconscious first, hitting the floor hard. Sagaroth took a quick step towards her, but stopped.

  Dameus caught the flash of concern in his eyes.

  David fell next, but Gabriel was still holding on to consciousness. “I will…” he struggled to say. “Lord, forgive me.” Gabriel fell forward, his sword clattering away from him as he hit the ground.

  “Very good, Lord Eddington,” Dameus said. “Your service to the Aragil crown will be well rewarded.”

  “It is an honor to serve,” Eddington said obsequiously. “I shall have my men fetch their belong
ings. It would look too suspicious if they were left behind.”

  “Good idea,” Dameus replied. “Come on, General. Let’s get these three back to Lystra.”

  * * * * * *

  The ride back to Lystra had been uneventful. Dameus made sure all three of them stayed sedated in the uncovered wagon for the two day ride. Gabriel regained consciousness several times, but he was put right back out. Dameus caught Sagaroth staring at Eleenia every half hour or so. He would have to do something about that, he decided. They had brought six of the dozen guards down to New Portsmouth with them. Lord Eddington had been most accommodating, even allowing them to stay in the castle, out of sight of the Ki Kalendeens, of course.

  He thought the little drama that played out between them and Eddington was most amusing. It was a shame about the judicial champion. It would have been downright hilarious had he killed Gabriel and then married Eleenia. Oh, well. It just made Eddington more eager to help.

  Dameus wondered what he would do to them. Could a Holy Defender be raised as an undead? A thrill shivered up his spine, as no one had ever attempted it. The youngest he would use to try and make the special undead that he and Tollinar were in a competition over. The girl, that would be a test for Sagaroth. Would he be willing to kill her with his own hands? If he can’t, he would die. If he did it, maybe as a reward he would raise her and give the general an undead molestation. Dameus laughed out loud at the thought.

  “What’s so funny?” Sagaroth asked.

  “Oh, you’ll see, eventually. How much longer until we get to the castle?” The necromancer wasn’t used to traveling by horseback, but he wanted to make sure that the three of their prisoners remained sedated.

  “Lystra is over the next hill, my lord,” the sergeant said. “We should be at Castle Ki Kalendeen within the hour.”

  “Good.”

  David began to stir.

  “Shall I administer the sedative, my lord?” the sergeant asked.

  “No,” Dameus replied. “Let them awake.”

  David opened his eyes, shielding them with his bound hands. “Where am I?”

  “On your way back to your ancestral home, Lord Ki Kalendeen.” Sagaroth had said the word ‘Lord’ with a sarcastic mock. “We thought it an appropriate place to end your bloodline.”