39

The arena had undergone yet another change overnight, though the work had likely started while the games were occurring. There was now a wide, circular wooden platform assembled in the center of the bleachers. There were no obstacles on it, no cover that could be used to one’s advantage. The one-on-one fights were meant to be clean, with clear victors. If someone was going to win by guile, they’d need to be exceptionally clever.

Michael stood on one side of the arena next to Lance and Cohle. Leana and Jakub were still putting on their gear. Nearby, Rein and his brother were the only ones that had arrived from the opposite team. Michael had agreed with Lance’s plan and so was going to be chosen first to fight for his team. There was a chance that just his reputation as a lifetaker and a Penitent, not to mention someone that killed an instructor, would be enough that Rein would want to fight him personally, but he needed to seal the deal, to make sure that’s what would happen.

“Hey, Rein—” he started, causing the young man to look at him. He was going to mention the boy’s sister but realized he couldn’t get it out, causing Rein to just shake his head and return his attention to his brother.

Michael just couldn’t stomach taunting Rein over a taken sister, but that didn’t mean he was out of options. He thought for a moment, considering what kind of insult would work best on a teenage boy of noble lineage for whom reputation was everything. He imagined what he himself would’ve taken offense to at that age, whether it actually mattered or not.

“Hey,” he hollered at Rein.

Rein looked over at him again with a scowl.

“You look like you lie with men.” He paused for a moment to consider how a militaristic society might not think that was so bad, then remembered a way to seal it either way. “And you’re the one who takes it.” Michael said it loudly enough that those in the nearest stands could hear it, and there was a gasp when he said the second part.

The opposing captain’s eyes bulged, and he stepped toward Michael, but Lance stepped in front of him, and Rein just gritted his teeth and stepped back.

Lance looked at Michael and sucked in some air between his teeth. “Well… it’s a good thing you chose to carry a shield today.”

Michael didn’t respond. He didn’t actually care if Rein was gay, of course. He’d had a number of gay friends back on Earth, but if there was one thing he remembered starting fights in high school back on Earth, it was one kid calling another a queer. He hadn’t picked up any equivalent slurs in Stent yet, but he’d figured the more indirect insult would work well enough, and it had.

The crowd all settled into their seats, and the announcer gave a brief blow on his horn when it was time for the fights to begin.

“Welcome all to the fourth day of the Festival of Blades!”

There was a warm cheer from the crowd, and the announcer took a moment to soak it in.

“Today’s event will be the one-on-one team fights.” He looked down to Michael and his team. “Senior Squire Lance Kreg, who do you choose as your first fighter?”

Lance stepped forward. “For this first fight, I nominate Irregular Michael Mann.”

There was a boo from the crowd as well as some screams of the slurs Michael had learned since arriving in that world.

The announcer turned his attention to Rein. “Senior Squire Rein Condant, who does your team nominate to fight this opponent?”

Rein stepped forward. “I nominate myself.”

That provoked a loud cheer from the audience.

The announcer nodded. “Fighters, take your places.”

Michael and Rein both began walking up the steps onto the platform. As they walked side by side for a moment, Rein spoke just loud enough for Michael to hear.

“I’m going to break you so badly you’ll wish your soul had found oblivion rather than come here.”

“You took my insult so personally I have to believe it’s true,” replied Michael, unable to help himself. “Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll make someone a wonderful wife someday.”

Rein almost struck him then but managed to keep himself calm as he walked to one end of the arena.

Michael walked to the opposite side and took a breath. He had almost no chance of winning based on both what he could see when divining Rein and what Lance had told him. He decided he was going to win anyway. He tightened his grip on his sword and shield and dropped into a low stance

The announcer’s horn blew, and Michael charged forward, trying to take the initiative and gain the benefits of his new Deed.

Rein moved to meet the charge. He was also wielding a sword and shield, and their shields collided in the center of the arena.

Michael was thrown back several feet, the bones in his arm screaming from the impact. He landed well and swung his blade as Rein moved to close the distance between them. He could feel his Revenge Denier ability activating, giving him a boost as he swung.

His opponent ducked the strike and sent out a half-dozen of his own that matched Lance’s speed and strength when they’d sparred.

Michael did his best not to take any blows directly, instead opting to deflect them as much as he could.

Rein was angry, which had been Michael’s goal, but he was maintaining tight control of his movements. It was impressive to see in someone as young as he was; at that age Michael would’ve lost his head and just started throwing haymakers, especially if he had the kind of strength behind him that Rein’s Titles and Deeds had granted him.

The assault had no pauses, no breaks for Michael to take back the initiative. It was just a constant onslaught of strikes, shield bashes, and kicks. Several of them managed to break through his blocks, and he started to take hits. One particularly wicked strike managed to push his shield down and hit him on the collar, nearly forcing him down on one knee. He needed to create an opening or at least find a way to give himself a breather, or he’d have no chance at winning.

He muttered, “fuego,” and produced a small mote of flame in front of Rein’s face for just a moment. The range at which he could cast had improved greatly since he’d forged all of the new magicka channels, but it wasn’t a ploy he’d have been able to pull off if Rein hadn’t pushed so close and aggressively.

Rein stepped back, raising his shield in front of his face instinctively, and Michael swung his sword with all the force he could muster, slamming it into Rein’s unprotected hip. The captain dipped a bit, and Michael struck out with his shield arm, smashing it into his side between where the breastplate was strapped.

He tried to follow it up with another sword strike, but Rein recovered and slammed the hilt of his sword into Michael’s helmet. Michael stumbled, stars flying across his vision, and Rein kicked him in the breastplate, denting it with force and sending him flying across the arena. He lost the grip on his sword, and it tumbled from his hand.

There was a cheer from the crowd. Michael took a moment to press his now free hand against his chest to heal himself, feeling cracked ribs mend and burst blood vessels seal. He pushed himself to his feet, holding up his shield. He was on the edge of the arena now. Ring outs were uncommon, but they were considered a victory. The size of the arena meant the victor was usually clear well before someone was driven to the edge of it. He looked at Rein. He was approaching slowly, soaking in his impending victory. No, realized Michael, looking closer. He was tired. Sweat was dripping down his face, and he was breathing heavily. They’d been fighting nonstop for some time, but how tired he was seemed beyond that. This wasn’t like his fight with Lance. This was after a team melee and an exhausting physical contest just over the last two days. Michael could see a path to victory.

He eyed his sword quickly, and Rein noticed. He ran for it, but Rein ran ahead of him moving much faster and kicked it out of the arena. Michael knew he wouldn’t reach it in time. “Fuerte!” he yelled as he channeled magicka and slammed a shield-enhanced fist strengthened by his Deeds into Rein’s Helm.

Rein fell to one knee, and Michael followed up by slamming his shield into his head. He could feel it, victory starting to come into reach. He went to follow up with another shielded punch.

Rein launched himself to his feet with a roar and enough force to push Michael back. He slammed his sword downward with more strength and ferocity than he had used the entire fight.

Michael was forced to catch the entirety of the blow directly and felt his shoulder dislocate from the strike. He cried out, but the cry was interrupted by Rein’s blade smashing into the side of his helmet. There was ringing in his ears, and he tried to heal himself instinctively, but a shield smashed his hand away, breaking it. He was on the ground, he realized, not remembering the fall. He tried to stand back up, but another kick hit his already dented breastplate, and he skipped like a stone over the wooden arena. Everything went dark.