I awoke on the morning of the tournament feeling eager. In a few hours I would be in the middle of the arena accepting whatever challenge was placed in front of me. I dressed myself in my old clothes and my new armor. I wondered if this was the feeling my father had on the morning he was going into battle. I was anxious, nauseous, and a bit giddy. I was prepared for this, I had trained for this, I would succeed in this.
"Break your fast boy, but don't break it too hard. A full stomach will slow you down, and an empty one will leave you stranded."
"Yes papa." I followed him out of our room and went to the dining hall of the inn. There was a large table in the center that had many different breads, meats, cheeses, and fruits. There was only one choice of drink and that was a sour old ale. I made a modest plate of sausage, biscuits, and fruit, and found a table and waited for my father to finish piling food on his plate. He walked over with his plate in one hand and two tankards of ale.
"Here boy, it's not the best you'll ever drink, but it will calm your nerves. I know what it's like when you are going into battle."
I guess what I was feeling is how he felt in those days so long ago.
"This isn't battle papa."
"Don't fool yourself lad. Your sword may be blunted, but there is just as much risk as going into a real battle. Especially if someone doesn't know what they are doing, and there's a good chance of that happening with a bunch of 10 year olds running around with sharp pointy metal sticks."
I hadn't thought of that. I just assumed that blunted swords and armor meant that no one would get hurt. Maybe a bruise here or there, but nothing more.
"Can someone really get hurt badly papa?"
"Indeed they can. There are rules about the type of strikes that you can use. You are only supposed to stay to slashing type cuts. You can only thrust a point when you are in absolute control and you wish your opponent to yield, but when you are caught in the throws of battle, mistakes happen. You don't always think with your head when your pot is on the fire."
I began to worry that I would be the one that would make a mistake. I would hurt someone and be thrown from the tournament. It must have showed on my face, because my father reached across the table and put his hand on my arm.
"Don't worry boy. I have faith in you. All you have to do is stick to your training. If you do that you won't be able to make a mistake. You will be focused and calm. Just remember that night by the river."
I slowly started to relax, and I thought back on that night. The first night that I experienced the Swordsman's Euphoria. Then I remembered that I had something else to help me. I checked my pocket for the smooth stone. It was still there. I could feel a warmth radiating from it, and that calmed me even more. We finished our plates and made our way to Galdren's forge. I still felt hungry but my father told me that is exactly how I wanted to feel. "If you're hungry, then you will fight better so that you can get to your next meal" is what he said. He also said that if I had a full belly, that I would more than likely empty it on the field of battle. That was something I didn't want to do.
Galdren was once again standing outside of his forge with his arms crossed in front of him. I began to wonder if that was how he stood all day. If we weren't there, would he just stand there and look brooding for everyone that passes by, or was that just for us? He couldn't hold the look of malice long enough today though. A broad smile crossed his face when he saw us.
"Come in gentlemen, we have much to discuss."
My father and I both stopped in our tracks and looked at each other. "Gentlemen?" we both said with our faces contorted in a look of confusion. Then we both nearly fell over laughing.
"You two are rather relaxed considering what is going to be happening in a little over an hour."
"Aye. that we are. You didn't let anything happen to that sword did you?"
"Do ya think I would be the blacksmith to the king if I misplaced a sword?"
"I guess you wouldn't."
"Get in here now, we really do have a lot to discuss." Galdren turned and marched into the small booth and went straight to the back. We followed. I could see the burlap bundle with the sword in it on his table. It was still wrapped up. I wanted to go and get it, but knew that I had to wait until it was presented to me in the arena.
"Boy, I don't know how much your father told you about the tournament, so I'm going to let you know what is in store for you. The tournament is made up of three events. The first is a test of strength and endurance. You will have to carry a log on your shoulders as your run around the arena. The one who complete the most laps wins that event. The second is going to be horsemanship. This is going to test your riding skills. The final event will be a melee. It will be a last man standing fight. You will be awarded points for making contact, and you will lose points for being hit. You will start the melee with 5 points each. If your point total drops below zero, you will be out. I was worried about the horsemanship event. I knew how to ride a horse, but that was all.
"Horsemanship? I asked sheepishly.
"Don't worry lad, they only want to see how well you are able to control a horse that you've never been on. You only need to be able to guide your mount through a course that they set up. You would be surprised at how many can't do that simple task. That last bit didn't ease my mind.
"What are you doing Galdren? You just stirred him up again. Listen lad, this is nothing you haven't done before. I know you don't have much riding experience, but I've never seen you have a problem on the back of a horse. Just treat it as you do whenever we have to ride out of the village."
That helped. I began to settle down and relax again. Running with a log would be easy. I did that everyday, and it was with two trees, uphill. I could run around an arena with a log on my back. If the horsemanship was what they said, I should be fine there as well, and the melee is what I've been training the whole time for.
"Now, all the events are important, but the only there is really only one that matters. The top four in each of the first two events are allowed to proceed to the melee, and that is the one that determines your fate. You win that, you win it all, and only one can win. Oh, there is one way that you can lose without losing all of your points."
"How?"
"If ya yield to another fighter. That will end your day as easily as dropping below zero."
"I will never yield." Yield, I would never have to yield. I will beat everyone in that arena.
"That's the spirit lad."
We made our way to the arena early. It was the same arena that we had watched the young knights training the year before. As I walked through a tunnel that led to the floor of the arena I realized it seemed much bigger from down here than it did from up in the stands. I stepped out of the tunnel onto the floor and looked up at the rows of seats that would soon be filled with cheering people. The sand on the floor was soft. I could feel myself sink in a little with each step. Running wouldn't be as easy as I thought it would be.
Galdren lead us across the floor of the arena to another tunnel, this one lead to a waiting area for all the contestants. There was a man and boy already there. They were talking quietly in the corner and turned towards us as we walked in. They smiled, waved and then went back to their discussion. We went to the opposite corner and sat on a bench.
The room filled quickly after a few more minutes. It looked like there were 15 boys including myself. They all seemed to have jitters, with the exception of the first boy that I saw. He was still talking quietly with his father. After a short time, I stopped looking around the room. I was feeling myself get anxious again by looking at all the other boys being anxious. I just focused on my breathing as if I was going to start practicing one of the movements. In no time, I was off in another world that was silent. I could feel my body relax and calm. I went through each movement in my head, the sword whirling in empty space, waiting to strike an actual opponent. I began to hear a bell ringing. I looked around and saw nothing but my sword and the surrounding darkness. I heard it again, and it slowly pulled me back to reality.
"Hello, I am Sir Wallace and I'm here to go over a few rules for this tournament." Sir Wallace was the biggest man I had ever seen. He stood a head taller than anyone else in the room. His shoulders were broad and I wondered how he got through the door without turning sideways. He had chainmail armor on under a white tunic. On his chest was a blue lions head, the symbol of the Targen Knights. "The first rule is, well, it's to have fun. Yes this is a tournament to get a coveted invite into the Knights academy, but you should still have fun. The second rule has to do with the melee. Stabbing strikes are not permitted. If you are caught performing a stabbing strike, you will receive a deduction of 5 points. If that causes your points total to fall below zero, than you are out. There are no exceptions to this rule. Remember this is a fun friendly tournament, we don't need you killing anyone just yet."
Everyone had a light chuckle at that, but you could see a few boys got even more nervous. I wan't sure if it was that they were worried they would stab, or that they would be stabbed.
"The third rule pertains to the yield. If you have control of an opponent and they cannot safely recover, you may ask them to yield. If they yield, they are out of the tournament. There is a second part of this rule, if you yield, you must place your sword on the ground and leave the arena. Your weapon will be returned to you after the melee is over, so that you can return it to your sponsor."
Sponsor? Was that what I was to consider Galdren? Did you need a sponsor to get in the tournament? I thought it was open to anyone 10 years of age. If it weren't for my father knowing Galdren, I wouldn't have a sponsor. I looked up at my father questioning.
"Later lad, I'll explain later."
"Finally, you are going to line up in here. When you hear the trumpets salute, you will walk with your sponsor to the center of the arena. You will hear one more salute of the trumpets, and the King will come through a curtain into this box. You will take a knee to show your respect for the king. You will see all other Knights in the arena do the same. Sponsors, you do not need to take a knee. When the King sits, you will rise back to your feet. Your sponsor will then present your weapon to you, and they will then leave the arena. After that, the tournament will begin. I will have you all follow me to the far side of the arena, and then you will listen to what you are told from there. Remember, to have fun out there today, and good luck to you all." With that, Sir Wallace spun on his heal and walked out of the small waiting room and through the tunnel.
Everyone began lining up in pairs when he left. My father held me back. "I know you want to now about the sponsor. Every entrant must have a sponsor to provide them with a weapon. The sponsor either has to be a noble of good standing, or a blacksmith of the kingdom."
"If that is the case, then not everyone can enter this tournament. You said anyone can enter."
"I did, and that is true. Anyone can enter, but you have to be able to find a sponsor. We are lucky to know Galdren. Good luck son. I know you will do your best." My father hugged me and smiled.
I was perplexed by this information. The tournament wasn't truly fair to everyone. Even though you didn't need to be a noble to enter, you still had to know one, and how could a common person know a noble. That wasn't important now. I saw Galdren was motioning to me to get in line with him. We were the very last ones to exit the tunnel.
The trumpets blared and a roar went up from the crowd as the first participant walked out of the darkness and into the sunlit arena. Galdren and I waited out turn to make our debut in front of the crowd. I stepped into the bright sunlit and it caused my eyes to squint. When I could finally see, I looked up and saw the crowd. I had never seen so many people in one area. Maybe I had, in the market, but you are amongst them then, and they aren't all looking at you.
We lined up in the center of the arena. Trumpets blared again and the King made his appearance. He was younger than I thought he would be. I don't know why I thought that, but I always pictured him with a long white beard, with a large polished crown, and a oversized fur-lined cape. He was quite the opposite. He was thin, but he looked tough, maybe wiry is a better way to put it. He had long dark hair, and he wore similar armor to what the Targen Knights were wearing. the only difference was that his tunic was a bright blue with a blossomed flower on it in white. Atop his head was a thin gold band. He waved to everyone in the crowd, and gave the participants a nod of his head, and then sat. We all stood and receive our weapons.
"I know you are going to do fine, and you don't need my saying this, but good luck to ya lad, and give'em hell." Galdren then clapped me on the shoulder as he walked back to the tunnel.
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