36

Michael stood with his team in the pit. He was wearing a breastplate and helmet, with a sword and shield in his hands. The rest of his team was behind him a short ways, going over final plans, though his own guidelines were simple—keep everyone from going down. The arena had been changed to accommodate the team melee. There were now more of the large pillars to block the line of sight, and a trench had been dug in the center with a few rickety wooden bridges put in place to allow crossing. There were nine teams, and Michael had already provided a list of Titles and Deeds from all of the opposing teams’ members to Lance before they’d even arrived in the arena. They only needed to eliminate three of them for the melee to end, though occasionally more went down or survived to the time limit.

The nearest two groups were looking at Michael’s, which had wound up positioned between them. It wasn’t difficult to figure out what their thought process was, but Lance’s positioning was intentional. Those two groups had the fewest Titles and Deeds among any of the teams, and Lance was confident in their ability to win against both of them. Michael was less certain, but eager to get started. Watching Davi and Pyotr had lit a fire in him, and he wanted to see how hot it would burn.

The horn blew, and Michael fell in with the rest of the team. He was toward the center with Leana, who was his primary responsibility. Lance stayed front and center and was flanked by Cohle and Jakub. All three of them were wielding spears with shields. That seemed to be the favored kit for most of the competitors. Michael had seen formation training with those weapons occurring frequently, so that made sense. The irregulars didn’t get formation training due to their unique role, but for this particular event, the weapon choice made sense.

Lance looked back at them, gesturing toward the other group in the corner.

“Push,” he said simply, and they all began moving in that direction, their footfalls kicking up sand as they moved.

The other team they approached had already been moving toward them and began to increase their pace. Soon both groups were letting out a yell to hype themselves up.

Michael could hear Leana muttering behind him.

“The cloud that blocks the sun, the roof that blocks the snow, the dam that blocks the river. The shield that blocks the sword!”

Her voice rose to an exclamation, and a shimmering wall of solid blue suddenly appeared in front of the other team mid-charge, just at face level. They slammed into it, running full speed. The one in front jerked backward as his head struck the blue wall, the rest of his body moving ahead of him. The others on his team fared similarly, but one of them managed to slide under the shield at the last moment.

He slid between Lance and Cohle, who were moving toward their fallen opponents, and stabbed his spear toward Leana, who he’d either identified as the weak link or the largest threat. Michael threw himself in front of the attack, slamming it to the side with his shield.

Leana took a few steps back, dismissing her shield and focusing on protecting herself.

The one that had avoided hitting the shield was the other team’s captain and had a half-dozen Titles and Deeds that Michael had guessed, by context and name, were related to reactions and speed. His theory was proven correct as he began striking.

Michael managed to parry or block most of the attacks, but there were several that got through to Leana, who had to block them with her shield or even bat them away with her staff.

By the time Lance had turned around to help, letting Cohle and Jakub handle the rest of the team, the enemy captain had managed to send out more than a dozen rapid strikes and parries.

There was a yell from behind them, and Lance looked over to see the other team on their side catching up to attack, missing one of their number.

“Leana, break off and block them while Michael and I finish him.”

“You couldn’t finish breakfast, Lance. I’ll take out your whole team myself,” said the enemy captain, his lightning-fast strikes not slowing at all as he spoke.

As Leana ran, Michael suddenly felt a boost. It was a small one, but it seemed her slight retreat had activated the boon on his Deed to protect someone that was fleeing. With renewed strength and Lance’s help, he started to send out more and quicker strikes. The other captain managed to block or parry them, but the increased strength of the blows made them heavy, and that gave Lance an opportunity.

Lance smashed the butt of his spear into the other captain’s foot, and as he went to howl from it, he headbutted him in the face in a surprising display of brutality, leaving him with a broken nose on the ground.

They turned to see Leana using a number of shields to keep the other team from getting to them. Michael could see then why she was chosen. Ollie’s shields were quicker and more subtle, but hers were solid as walls, and she seemed able to maintain a large number of them very easily. She may be lacking in regular combat spells, but her defensive powers were impressive, and since those were all she could use in these events, that made her a fantastic choice for them. Still, she had a nasty cut on her leg and a dent in her helmet.

Michael reached her first, healing her quickly.

She dropped a shield, causing one of the enemy team to stumble through, and Michael pounced on him like a lion. He batted the recruit’s shield away and slammed his sword onto his helmet hard enough to make him crumple. Another two got through, and this time, Lance took one of them, bashing him onto the ground with his shield before making him yield.

Michael took the other, a recruit wielding a bastard sword, but this one was more prepared for the attack. They had a rapid exchange of blows, but he was tired from swinging his heavy blade, and Michael was barely panting. When he overextended on an overhead slash, Michael hit him in the chest with enough force to dent his chestplate and send him to the ground, gasping for air.

Cohle and Jakub returned from mopping up the other team covered in fresh injuries, and together they all chased down the last member of the enemy team that smartly conceded and threw down his sword once he was cornered. Michael healed everyone, and they started to move toward the rickety bridge when the horn was blown again, stopping them in their tracks.

“The team melee has concluded!” yelled the announcer. “Three teams have been eliminated. The remaining teams will move on to the games!”

There was a cheer from the crowd, and it got louder as Lance slammed his shield with his spear and raised it high. Michael noticed his eyes darted to his father in the observation box, but from what Michael could tell, General Kreg’s expression remained dour and unchanged. He looked around the stand and saw Davi, Ollie, Marcus, and Pyotr all hooting and hollering at him along with all of the other Penitents, and he raised his sword in their direction. While he stayed focused on their excitement for him, he could see just as much venom being thrown in his direction. Still the reaction wasn’t nearly so negative as it had been for Davi’s victory in the melee. He had the fact that it was a team game and Lance was so popular to thank for that.

The applause died down, and they all went to the team exits. Michael took some time to heal the worst injured combatants but avoided healing anyone from a team that was still in the competition. If there had been any severe injuries he would’ve done it, good strategy be damned, but from what he could tell, the damage they’d received was mild.

“Good job, everyone. Leana, your shield timing was perfect,” said Lance.

She nodded. “Of course it was.”

“Cohle is rubbing off on you,” noted Jakub dryly.

“Unfortunately, she won’t let me. I think she prefers the company of the other lady mages.”

“That, or a man who doesn’t look like the ass of a boar,” she responded. She’d given as good as she got from what Michael had seen, but that was a necessity, given the profession she’d found herself in.

Lance went silent as he looked over the other teams. His face was smiling, and his words were praise, but he was already thinking about next steps. Michael was fairly certain he’d never seen a genuine smile on Lance’s face. Michael wondered for a moment if he’d ever messed any of his own kids up as much as General Kreg seemed to have. Likely not, though, as he’d at least taken the time to hug them on occasion.