Druid's Bane

by Phillip Henderson

  She opened her eyes and gritting her teeth, sat up gingerly. Sweat ran down her face, stinging her eyes and dripping off her chin.

  “Lord Kane, you forfeit the point,” Mr Templeton bellowed from outside the ring, “and the next time you behave so contemptibly, it’ll be the match.”

  “It’s not my fault the clumsy wench can’t keep her feet,” snarled Kane. “And I’ve broken no rule.”

  “You manhandled her, you sorry knave!” Faith shouted from the railing. The crowd was yelling so loudly, she could barely be heard.

  “I did not. The blow was delivered via my shield; there’s nothing illegal in that.”

  Technically he was right. “Give him the point,” Danielle said evenly after lifting her visor. She pushed the steward off and got back to her feet. When she wasn’t heard, she lifted her voice and shouted, “Give him the point!”

  Her demand quickly quieted the crowd and brought looks of astonishment from all who heard her. Even Kane seemed baffled.

  “I said give him the point! For it’ll be the last he gets in this round.”

  Kane offered a gracious nod, lifted his sword, and set himself. “Why don’t you see sense, Danielle, and relent?”

  The moment the wardens stepped out of the way, Danielle dropped her visor into place and charged at him, sword high, offering him her unprotected front, drawing the thrust; making him commit, only to discover the feint too late. Then, veering her blade sideways, she slammed her own weapon into his ribs then smashed the return swing into his back as she swept past him, as deftly fluid as a mongoose evading a viper. He cursed as he stumbled away, the double blow almost felling him. The move clearly surprised him. When he turned to face her again, he was bent, nursing sore ribs. Danielle darted towards him once more. Metal rang together, and Kane bellowed as her sword hammered first against the armour on his forearm and then against his side. He barely had time to turn before she was on him again, striking him three times; the third blow connecting with the backs of both thigh guards, taking his legs out from under him and sending him crashing to his knees.

  The crowd was on its feet cheering riotously as her point tally increased.

  “Get up!” Danielle shouted over the deafening noise coming from the stands.

  Tossing his shield away, Kane staggered to his feet and, swaying slightly, wrapped both hands around the hilt of his sword. He came at her, sword raised high. Danielle fended him off with her shield and easily ducked under the return cut before thrusting her sword up just below his breastplate. He doubled up with the impact and then crashed to the floor of the arena as she swept his calves from under him.

  The crowd in the commoner’s stands roared with glee at the growing farce. The mood was far more subdued among the nobility.

  A warden crouched down and asked Kane if he wished to continue, but Kane merely rolled to his side, coughing violently.

  “The round is the lady’s!” Mr Templeton shouted. His voice was lost in the thunderous cheer that rose up from the stands. Danielle flicked open her visor and grinned broadly. Elated at the victory, she offered a curtsey of gratitude to her adoring fans and blew her father a kiss as the first white flag was slotted into the rack on her side of the scoreboard.

  In his corner, Kane sagged to his knees, pulled off his helmet, and dunked his sweat-soaked head into the bucket of water Orson had provided. Danielle watched him closely as she drank from a cup and listened to Faith.

  “Don’t be fooled, Dee,” her friend said. “He’s not finished yet. You’re going to have to watch him in this next match. You made him look ridiculous at the end there. You’re finding your form. But he’ll be spoiling for revenge. He’s also got everything to lose. And you know how treacherous he can be when his back is to the wall. Patience, and you’ll not only have the better of him, you’ll have his title as well. Just make sure at the end you hurt him good.”

  These were Danielle’s thoughts, too, and she nodded before pulling on her helmet again and dropping her visor.

  “The contestants will take their positions and draw their swords.”

  “You be careful,” Faith said, her serious brown eyes peering in through the slit in Danielle’s visor.

  The second flag was raised. Danielle inhaled deeply and relaxed her grip on her weapon and shield. Kane had recovered, and she knew she now faced a monster. It was a daunting prospect. But damned if she was going to be intimidated.

  “Begin!”

  Danielle took two steps forward and braced as Kane came straight at her. With a chance to rest his sword, he now moved with purpose and precision again, and she struggled to keep him at bay. Shield, sword, shield sword, she defended as best she could, absorbing his onslaught while trying to maintain her strength and take as little punishment as she could. But again and again, he found a way past her defences and his points accumulated. Faith was encouraging her to keep wearing him down, but it was becoming ever more difficult to get onto the front foot, let alone get at him. The crowd had become a great deal quieter than they had been in the first round.

  Struggling to keep her breath steady and blinking sweat from her eyes, she threw up her shield to stop a cut aimed at her side. Somehow it slipped past and she staggered back, cringing with pain. His sword slammed into her other side, doubling her up, then whipped through the air and struck her helmet. She didn’t see it coming, and the force of the blow felled her cleanly. When she came to, Faith was kneeling at her side, dabbing at a stinging cut above her left eye, while Eden and Mr Templeton were standing nearby, lost in urgent conversation. The noise from the crowd was deafening, and from what Danielle could hear, the cordon of guards was struggling to keep the horde from storming the arena. She couldn’t see Kane but he had certainly been awarded the bout. And if she didn’t get back to her feet, it would be the match and title as well. And a great deal more!

  “What were you thinking? You walked right into it,” Faith said. The confidence in her eyes had vanished. “You should relent. You beat him in the first bout, and he can’t take that away from you.”

  “Like Vellum, I’ll relent.” Danielle sat up. Her head was spinning and a sharp pain lit-up behind her eyes making her grimace.

  Eden crouched and frowned as he touched her face. “We’re going to call the match. Kane will retain his title. I’m sorry.”

  She grabbed the sleeve of his robe. “You are not. It’s not your decision to make.”

  “Dee, we had an agreement. Father has given the signal.”

  He looked up as the palace physicians arrived at her side. They’d clearly struggled to get through the surging crowd from their seats by the score master’s bench. Not about to tolerate their fussing or her father’s meddling, Danielle got to her feet and raised her hands for quiet.

  The crowd roared at her resurrection from the floor of the tournament ring, and then quieted to let her speak. When she could be heard, she turned to face her father, who was on his feet, and looked sick with worry. “Father I’m fine, and I wish to continue.”

  His response was lost in a triumphant cheer. Everyone knew that if he intervened, he’d be breaking the tournament rules and such an action would be an affront to every common born citizen in the square. His face darkened with displeasure but he gave her a stiff nod that said they’d be having words about this later and then sat back down.

  “That was particularly foolish,” Eden said. “You promised.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Rubbish, you’re fine. You’re almost out on your feet.”

  That was true. A week of competition, and little sleep the night before had taken a severe toll on her strength. And in truth, she had resigned herself to defeat, but there was no way she was going to hand Kane his title by default.

  “You can do this,” Faith had cupped her cheeks and now she whispered something in her ear.

  Danielle actually grinned at that.

  “Last throw of the dice,” Faith said, handing Danielle her sword and then helping her put he
r helmet back on. “If it doesn’t come off, we’re getting you out of here, like it or not.”

  Kane looked pleased that she had decided to continue. He also looked rested and quietly confident, as if this was always going to be the outcome. He offered her a salute, before pulling on his helmet and drawing his sword.

  “Brave, Danielle, but stupid,” he said, when the match glass had been turned and he came out of his corner to engage her. As before he sort to beat her down and very quickly the tally of strikes for and against favoured him. The match was going his way and every one knew it as clanging steel and grunts of effort rang out over an increasingly silent and grim faced crowd—at least in the commoner’s stands.

  “You’ve proved to be quite the disappointment, Dee,” Kane said, after raking her back and sending her stumbling to the railing.

  “I have no intention of disappointing anyone but you,” she snarled, struggling for breath as she found her feet again.

  Kane chuckled and feigned a charge. Danielle fell for it, and he stepped aside and struck her across the left shoulder, the momentum drove her back to the railing. She rolled away, barely missing being struck. Kane pulled his sword free of the chipped railing and charged at her. His confidence was getting the better of him, making him bold. Danielle ducked away, and ducked away again. Then again and again, until he was puffing from chasing her and frustration tempered his sword work even more than before. Then she saw her chance and seized it. Ducking under one of his wild swings, she hacked at his shin guards, catching him unawares and toppling him over. He tried to roll away but Danielle punished his back and then took aim at his helmet. She got two solid blows in before the stewards dragged her back.

  “Foul! Foul!” Mr Templeton was shouting. “The lady knows better than to strike when her opponent is on the ground.”

  A steward went to Kane’s side and helped him sit up.

  A number of lords were voicing their protests from the royal pavilion, but being shouted down by the crowd of commoners who were cheering their lady and suggesting other ways of bringing her brother down, none of them sportsmanlike in nature at all.

  Kane got to his feet, fury in his eyes.

  “You will both remember the rules,” Templeton said.

  Kane charged her as soon as the fight resumed. Danielle ducked down low, caught his sword with her own and slammed the edge of her shield onto his boot. Kane howled and back tracked. Danielle flew at him and in four strokes she’d knocked the sword and shield from his hand and sent him crashing to his knees. It was her turn to grin. The wardens rushed in, one of them going to Kane’s side, the other lowering his wooden pole and barring Danielle from advancing.

  “All you have to do is stay down, Kane, and it’s over,” she said over the warden’s shoulder.

  “Damn you, I am the champion of the Illandian sword, and I will not be beaten by some upstart of a woman,” he said as he got unsteadily to his feet.

  Danielle retrieved her shield and when Kane came at her staggering like a drunk she gracefully parried and stepped in, her full weight behind her blade, catching him across the diaphragm. The blow doubled him over, and as he sagged forward she thrust her sword between his boots, hooking his ankle and sending him crashing back against the boards. The impact dislodged his helmet and sent it sliding away across the ring.

  Danielle lifted her visor and came forward as the two wardens sat a groggy Kane up.

  “You’re finished, sir. So show Father some respect and do the honourable thing—surrender your sword,” she said, her voice half lost in the roar of the crowd. Elation swelled in every fibre of her being. She’d done it. She’d won the Illandian sword, and defeated her brother, and the entire realm had watched, noble and common born alike. Equally as important was the political statement this victory made. It was on every smiling face and in every cheer and every fist that punched the air in triumph.

  But before Danielle could enjoy it, and much to her dismay, Kane shoved off the wardens, retrieved his helmet, and pulled it on. Then he bent and took up his weapon. “You want my sword, sister?” he shouted, his voice cracking with fatigue and rage. “Then come and take it!”

  While still speaking, he lunged at her, hoping to catch her off guard. But Danielle, easily avoided the haphazard thrust and belted him across the chest, sending him stumbling back on unsteady feet. One leg buckled and he collapsed to his knees. Right now he was the face of everything that was corrupt and wrong with Arkaelyon, and it fired her blood.

  “Kane, you’re finished. Now, relent—for Father’s sake. And for your own!”

  The crowd was urging her to finish him and there were more than a few in the royal pavilion shaking their heads in dismay and disgust. But as the wardens came forward again, Kane shoved them off and staggered towards her, reeling on his feet. Through his visor slit, his eyes pinned her. The fury there was akin to madness yet it didn’t intimidate her in the least. Danielle went at him with everything she had, striking him a dozen ringing blows before he crashed into a corner of the ring and collapsed in a heap. The last sands of the bout fell through the hourglass and the crowd was on its feet, cheering wildly, throwing dozens of Noren roses at the ring in celebration.

  “The Lady de Brie is the new champion of the Illandian Sword!”

  Danielle pulled off her helmet, grinned from ear to ear. Elated, Faith leapt over the railing and hugged her. They’d done it!

  “No! It wasn’t supposed to end this way.” Kane was struggling up.

  Despite everything, Danielle felt his humiliation and pushed out of Faith’s arms and crossed the ring. “Kane, please show Father some dignity. You’ll be able to challenge for the title again next year.” With the celebrations already underway around them, few would have heard her.

  “It’s not supposed to end this way,” he rasped.

  He had been pulling himself back up, one hand on the railing, his back to her. Then, with a maddened hate filled cry, he twisted with all his strength, and his sword thrust out in a flash of steel. With her own weapon sheathed, and unprepared as she was, Danielle had no chance of avoiding the blade. The point took her in the midsection with such force that it doubled her up. The punchering of metal plate was followed instantly by a searing pain and she cried out, not quite believing what had just happened.

  Horror froze on Kane’s face as blood began to run down the blade of his sword, the end of which had penetrated Danielle’s breastplate.

  Few seemed to have noticed their lady had been wounded and gritting her teeth, Danielle pushed herself off her brother’s blade and sat down with a thud. Kane blinked dumbly at her and quickly dropped the weapon as if her blood on its blade was not his doing. It didn’t quite seem possible.

  Danielle thought momentarily of her dream, the way Kane had killed her. Then she toppled over, her head striking the rough boards of the tourney ring.

  The next thing she knew, Faith was beside her, struggling to unfasten the armour and shouting at the match wardens, who stood by in shock. The celebrations had ceased and like everyone else in the square, they were gaping at her, their eyes wide with horror.

  Eden arrived next. “Dee…?” He patted her cheek, making her look at him and not the blood that was beginning to seep out of her armour and pool on the floorboards. “Just hold on; the court physicians are coming. You’re going to be fine.”

  Danielle nodded, despite the obvious doubt in her brother’s face, despite her own doubts. She winced against the throbbing pain in her belly as they worked to get her armour off. Nearby, five knights had stormed the ring to intervene. They had Kane pinned faced own on the boards. Sir Jeffery was shouting for chains, and Kane was protesting his innocence. Elsewhere, Danielle was vaguely aware of women and children beginning to wail and cry.

  “We have to sit her up to get the breastplate off,” Faith said.

  Danielle noticed the tears running down her friend’s cheeks, and she felt a pang of regret, and a creeping fear.

  “Faith, I’m sor
ry…”

  “Hush, now.”

  As they moved her a sharp burning pain seized her. It felt like molten steel from a blacksmith’s furnace was being poured into her stomach. She gritted her teeth and tensed against it, swallowing a scream. As it eased, her fear burst forward and consumed her. Tears sprang into her eyes. Her only thought now was of her father.

  She gripped Eden’s hand, hampering his efforts to get her armour off.

  “Where’s Father?’ The thought that she might die without seeing him again made her frantic. “Father—where is he?”

  Eden shushed her as he made way for several of the court physicians. “You’re going to be fine. Just rest Dee. Father’s coming.” She knew Eden was being brave for her, telling her what he dearly hoped would prove true. They removed her breastplate. Eden cupped her cheeks before she could look down at herself. “We’re going to lie you back down… It’ll hurt some. Understand?”

  She nodded and braced herself. Then she screamed, nearly swooning from the pain. The pain eased a little as they began to work on the bloody wound to her stomach.

  A cordon of knights and guards had formed around her, and at that moment father and Michael arrived. They crouched down beside her, each taking one of her hands. She squeezed tightly, grateful for their presence. She saw both of them glance at her stomach and their grim expressions brought a sob from her throat and more tears washing down her cheeks. She had failed them, just as she had failed all those who looked to her as Arkaelyon’s hope. The thought was more than she could bear. “I’m sorry, Father… I’m so s-sorry.”

  He gave her a tight smile, clearly struggling with his emotions, and then leaned forward and hugged her head to his. “You’re going to be fine. He stuck you good, but it’s not so deep.” He sat back. “You hear me? You’re going to be fine.”

  Danielle nodded weakly, though she didn’t feel fine and she wasn’t so sure he spoke the truth. The pain was fading, but she was finding it hard to breathe. She could hear Eden and Faith talking to each other, feel the physicians working to stop the bleeding, but everything else was fast becoming a blur of sound. She knew she was slipping away. Thoughts of her dream returned, the way Kane had killed her there. The pain was the same, the consuming darkness—the helplessness.