by Finley Aaron
While they were taking their places, a herald strode to the center of the field, bellowing in his loudest voice to remind the men of the rules, which were mostly about not actually trying to injure or kill anyone, and removing oneself honorably when rightfully out.
As soon as he was done, the herald fled from the field.
The blare of a trumpet pierced the air, and the men surged forward in a wave.
Every man had his own preferred strategy at the start. Some liked to hang back just behind the first bout of those who rushed forward. Ella had long before learned that her best hope of getting sashes from her opponents lay in rushing forward and plucking what she liked to call the “easy pickings,” before the least-skilled players were eliminated.
But that was when she was fighting against boys, most of whom, for the last year or two at least, had been younger than she was. Now she was fighting men, and as she extended her sword in an attempt to pluck a sash, she found that, not only was her jab blocked, but she had to dance backward or risk having her own sash plucked.
The realization hit her with jarring force, traveling through her the same way the vibrations from a ringing block traveled up her arm, and it was all she could do, for several moments, to avoid the blows that seemed to be raining down on her from all directions.
“Stay under me, Kid,” Dominic advised with a grunt, towering over her as he used his blade to push back a leaping swordsman. “You’re short. Stay low, keep your head down, and they won’t be able to reach your sash.”
Ella was barely able to hear him over the clash of swords and the sounds of struggle (even without hooves, the foot melee was nearly as loud as the mounted), but she immediately recognized the sense of what he was saying. She ducked low and maneuvered herself to a position slightly behind the accomplished swordsman.
There, she wasn’t under such constant attack. It was unlikely she’d manage to capture any sashes, but she would at least have a better chance of staying in play. Even if she captured no sashes, she wanted to be among the undefeated on the winning team.
While all of this was going on below, I flew higher, partly to get a better view of the action, but mostly, to stay well out of range of the fighting.
For several long minutes, the scene below me was a chaotic jumble of grunting men and clashing swords, the sounds of battle all but drowned out by the fans who screamed from the sidelines for their favorite players.
I spotted Raedwald, who was not far from the black-bearded brothers, Einhard and Uliad. The three of them were caught up in intense fighting further down the line, to Hugo’s right, with a couple dozen men or more between them and Ella.
But as the battle waged on, and the stink of sweat mingled with the scents of leather and freshly-disturbed earth, which was soon tinged with the distinct smell of blood, I looked down, and saw a man clutching his shoulder, which had been sliced open through his leather armor.
Raedwald grabbed the injured man’s sash as he staggered toward the sidelines, blood seeping between his fingers as he tried to contain the wound.
I buzzed like an angry bee in the sky, but there wasn’t anything I could realistically do that would help the injured man, or punish Raedwald for stealing the sash of a man he hadn’t personally eliminated.
Besides, the man with the bleeding shoulder wasn’t the only one leaving the field. Red and blue sashes fluttered as they were plucked from their loops, and eliminated players left the field—some fleeing quickly to avoid any further chance of injury, others trudging from exhaustion.
Unlike the sword competitions, which were fixed at three minutes long, the melee would go on indefinitely, until one side had no more men standing.
Even from my vantage point in the sky, it was difficult to tell which side had the most men, since some of the sashes I saw had been claimed as prizes, and everyone below was constantly in motion, swords flashing in the sunlight. I kept my attention divided between Ella and Raedwald as the swarm below slowly thinned.
Raedwald did not go out. One of the Ulster brothers (I’ve no idea which one was Einhard and which Uliad) had his sash stolen, but the other remained in.
As did Ella. And Dominic. And Hugo.
Then Dominic was hit by a horizontal blow to his right side while he fought another man on his left. He ran off the field before anyone could claim his sash.
This left Ella fighting essentially alone. She’d clapped Dominic’s attacker across the back with her blade at almost the same instant he took out Dominic, but the red-sashed fighter didn’t leave the field. This meant she had to fight that man and another, which might sound overwhelming, but Gustav had often joined in practice when she fought her brother, so she was used to blocking two swords at once, and used her small shield to great advantage.
To her benefit, the thinning field provided more space for proper sword-fighting, unlike the initial mad fray, which had left little room to maneuver. Off to her right, Hugo took out another red-sashed swordsman, and then turned his attention on to trying to capture the sash of one of the men who were attacking Ella.
This eased the pressure on Ella momentarily. But across the field, Raedwald and the remaining Ulster brother teamed up to pick off another member of the blue team.
They then turned their attention toward Hugo and Ella.
With Dominic and so many others eliminated, the sea of swordsmen that had blocked Ella from their view was now thinned considerably. I watched from above as Raedwald and his henchman sent each other a knowing glance, then went bounding straight past a cluster of fighters, toward Hugo and Ella.
Skullduggering snollygasters!
I whipped down from the sky, mindless of the danger, to warn Ella. Her hood was tight and I didn’t want to block her view for even a fraction of a second (as that kind of advantage would be all her opponent might need to defeat her), but I squeezed in near her ear, shouted that Raedwald was on his way, and flew back out in time to watch Hugo disarm the man who’d defeated Dominic.
Being disarmed was nearly as obvious an eliminating factor as having one’s sash plucked, but the man appeared ready to grab his sword again, when Ella, who’d seen everything, dropped her shield and picked up the other man’s sword by the handle.
This was good timing on everyone’s part, because Ella needed both swords to fight off both the man she was already battling, and Raedwald, who’d just arrived.
Hugo was likewise freed up just as the Ulster brother barreled toward him, his sword moving in a powerful downward slice toward Hugo’s head.
Hugo blocked the blow, but the force of it bent him low.
Ella whipped her right-hand sword around, blocking a strike from Raedwald and pushing the Ulster brother back. With her left hand, she flicked the other sword at the sash on the chest of the man she’d been fighting the longest. He was either exhausted, disoriented by her sudden change of hands, or lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that she was fighting three men at once. Whatever the cause of it, his reaction was slow, and though he jumped back, it was not until Ella’s sword grazed his chest and caught his sash.
His jumping back therefore pulled the sash almost free of its loop. Had she been able to give her full attention to the matter, Ella could have flicked her wrist and pulled the sash completely free, but she was quite distracted by a number of things happening to her right.
One was that the Ulster brother had swung another downward blow at Hugo, which sent the blue-sashed swordsman into a bowing sort of crouch. Ella might have wondered why Hugo’s opponent was repeating the move, but she saw where he was looking, and the malicious glimmer in his eyes.
Hugo’s neck was exposed.
The way he stood at a crouch, sword above his head to block the strike from above, Hugo had to throw his head back, craning his neck to allow him to keep his eyes on his opponent. His body armor and helmet were not of one piece, and though leather and chain mail typically overlapped enough to cover every gap, in his current position, and owing possibly to t
he fact that he’d grown some since the armor had first been made to fit him, there was an exposed gap of neck, and a major blood vessel clearly visible through his skin.
If he was struck in that position, even by a blunted blade, it would cut the vessel easily, and he would die.
Ella saw all this in an instant, but in that same instant, Raedwald saw it, too.
Her initial opponent was frantically trying to stuff his sash back through its loop. Though Ella could easily have taken it from him at that moment, she took advantage of his distraction to turn her attention to keeping Hugo safe from Raedwald and his henchman.
Raedwald raised his sword to strike Hugo, who the Ulster brother held at an impasse, swords crossed, each man pushing with all his strength in an attempt to force the other back.
Ella whipped her sword around quickly, catching Raedwald in his exposed side, but he ignored her as he brought his sword down toward Hugo’s neck.
With only the tiniest of a fraction of a second left in which to act, and having seen Raedwald was bent on his purpose and would not be stopped, and knowing that even if she got one of her swords between Hugo and Raedwald’s blade, the force of his blow would simply send her sword into Hugo’s neck, Ella threw herself onto Hugo’s back, sending him crumpling to the ground.
Raedwald’s blow came down—hard—on her back.
Chapter Seven
A trumpet sounded from the sidelines, and officials rushed the field. The few men who remained on the field stopped fighting and looked to see why they’d been interrupted before one side was completely eliminated.
I hovered above, watching everything.
Below me was a screaming din, each man trying to shout down the others. Members of the crowd were shouting, too, though many of them had fallen into a hush, hoping to hear the verdict.
Ella rolled off Hugo’s back and tried to ask him if he was hurt, but he was stunned and red-faced, either from anger or embarrassment or simply the effort of the fight that had passed, I’m not sure. But it wasn’t as though the two of them could have had a conversation, not with the way the officials were shouting, and the Ulster brothers and Raedwald yelling back. Even the heralds had gathered around, though they stood out of reach of the swords.
Twice I thought Raedwald might turn his sword on the officials. While three of them tried to shout him down, another jabbed his finger at the sash of the man Ella had fought, whose sash she’d nearly taken with her sword. They pronounced him fairly eliminated, and sent him to the sidelines.
He looked as though he wanted to protest, but once he’d caught sight of the others gathered around him, outnumbering him by a great margin, he pulled out the sash himself, handed it to the official, and trotted off the field.
While that was going on, Ella got to her feet, wincing with the pain in her back from Raedwald’s blow. She offered Hugo her hand in an effort to help him up.
He took it, though he didn’t look happy about it. Once he’d reached his feet and stepped away from the uproar far enough that he could be heard, he asked Ella, “Why did you land on my back?”
“Your neck was exposed,” Ella explained, though she feared he might not believe her. “Raedwald saw the opening and was going to strike. He had this look in his eyes. It was greedy…” She tried to think of a word that would explain it. “Bloodthirsty, even. I think he meant to kill you. I struck him in the side with my sword, but he didn’t stop, and there wasn’t time for anything else.”
“So you threw yourself on top of me?”
“Yes.” Ella hung her head, and winced again as even that small motion sent stabbing pain shooting up her spine.
“Are you injured?” Hugo looked suddenly concerned.
Ella, fearing she’d be thought weak or feeble, shook her head. “I’m fine. It’s nothing. Not a scratch. Raedwald’s sword came down on my back. My armor protected me.” In fact, her armor had extra padding which her mother had sewn in under the leather to disguise her feminine figure, but even that had been little help against the force of Raedwald’s angry blow.
“You took the hit intended for me?” Hugo realized aloud.
But an official was already approaching them. It was the man who’d taken the red sash from Ella’s earlier opponent. He held it out to her. “This is rightfully yours.”
Ella looked around, bewildered. “I don’t—I didn’t—”
“You pulled it free with your sword.”
Realizing where the sash must have come from, she shook her head. “Not completely.”
“You struck him fair on the chest. That alone should have eliminated him. Since he stayed in dishonorably, the sash is yours.” The official shoved the sash into her hands and cleared his throat, turning to point toward where Raedwald and the Ulster brother were still trying to shout down three officials and two heralds.
“Now, about this other activity,” the official continued. “We saw clearly what happened. Everyone did. Raedwald’s out because you struck him in the side.”
“He also caught me across the back,” Ella admitted.
“Being already out at that time, his blow does not count. Now.” The official cleared his throat again, and this time began to look rather uncomfortable. He gestured to the two of them to step back from the shouting match. They picked their way through the battle-pocked turf to an area in the midst of the green where it would be difficult to overhear.
“I’m not the head judge, so I can’t give the final ruling, but from what I saw, and in light of what everyone knows about Raedwald and Einhard.” The official paused and looked long at Hugo.
Hugo frowned, then arched one eyebrow upward in question.
The official took a deep breath and turned to Ella. “Why did you throw yourself onto Hugo’s back?”
“Raedwald’s blow was headed for his neck. There was a gap between his pieces of armor, and nothing to cover it. His neck was exposed. Even a light strike would kill him, and given the force and angle of that blow, it might well have cut off his head.”
Hugo’s eyes flashed with sudden fury, and he glared in Raedwald’s direction. For a moment, he appeared to be about to stomp over to exchange words with Raedwald, but instead, he looked at the official.
“Is that what you saw, too?”
“That’s what I saw,” the official confirmed. He flicked a finger in the direction of one side of the field, where furious fans were still screaming, some of the accusations loud enough to be heard over the rest of the din. “From the sound of it, that’s what a lot of people saw.”
Hugo clenched his jaw, then shook his head, relaxing his expression slightly. “It’s the risk I take when I choose to compete.”
“And Raedwald knows it,” the official added. “I’m going to speak with the others. Stay here.” The man trotted off, leaving Hugo and Ella alone.
“I thought Raedwald hated me,” Ella said in her deepest voice, confused by the heir’s choice of target.
“He hates me more,” Hugo informed her grimly.
“What did you do to him?”
“Don’t you know?”
“I’ve no idea. I’ve been competing in junior tournaments in the east all these years. I’ve never competed in this district or this division, and I’m not familiar with hardly any of the competitors.”
“But you’re from Caprese? That’s part of this kingdom.”
“Yes.” Ella was impressed that Hugo had heard of their estate and knew which kingdom it belonged to. She, on the other hand, had no idea where Adalaard was.
Hugo continued, “And you don’t know what I did to upset Raedwald?”
“I have been on the road for most of the last five years.”
“Our feud goes back much further than that.”
“He really knows how to hold a grudge. But what could you have done, then? You’re not old enough to—”
“I’m seventeen,” Hugo inserted, flashing a look that said his age ought to give her some sort of clue.
Ella looked at him, tr
ying to figure him out, distracted because her heart kept doing strange flip-flops, which she attributed to being at the center of a protested melee result, though she’d been involved with those before without her stomach somersaulting. Their official headed back toward them, and Ella shrugged. “I still don’t know what you did.”
“I was born,” Hugo answered quietly just as the official reached them.
“That’s it, then,” the official announced. “Raedwald’s been suspended from all tournament competition for the next two months on grounds of insolence toward officials following dishonorable behavior. The blue team has been awarded the victory. As far as his attempt to kill you—”
“He denies everything,” Hugo guessed.
“As always,” the official confirmed with a look of apology.
Hugo clapped the man on the shoulder with gratitude, and began walking with him toward the sidelines. “You’ve given me two months of competing without having to worry about him. That’s a gift I won’t squander.”
Everyone had begun to leave the field, so Ella hurried over to where she’d last seen her family.
Nora, of course, was beside herself with concern, and fussed over Ella, who insisted she’d be fine. Gustav, Bertie, and Robert were buzzing about whether Raedwald hadn’t been about to kill the man she’d fallen on, and Ella confirmed their suspicions, adding that the official had testified as much, though it didn’t seem there was anything to be done about it legally, since deaths weren’t uncommon in the melee, and it was a risk all players accepted.
The mention of this sent Nora into another fit of fussing, which Ella mostly ignored as Rolf came bounding toward them, his face flushed with excitement.
“Do you know who that was?” Rolf asked Ella.
“Who? Hugo?” Ella wasn’t sure which man Rolf was referring to.
“Hugo.” Rolf dragged out the name, nodding knowingly.
“Hugo of Adalaard.” Ella tried not to blush when she said his full name, though she couldn’t think why her instinct was to blush. Perhaps because she’d saved his life, and he’d been so nice about it.
