A Snoop Without Magic by Guy Antibes

Author:Guy Antibes
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Casiepress LLC
Published: 2019-02-27T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Three

~

“N ot bad,” Kened said. “Your two most challenging matches, and you made enemies of both.”

“That was my assignment,” Sam said. “I don’t know if we did any good.”

“Oh, you did,” Kened said. “You have had six invitations to dinner tomorrow night. There would be more, but tonight is the winner’s banquet at the city hall.”

Sam shook his head. “Do I have to go?”

“Of course,” Kened said. “But you don’t have to stay long. Just make an appearance and then leave abruptly.”

Sam turned to Worren. “Won’t that get everyone upset?”

Worren grinned. “That is a very good idea. I hadn’t thought of it yet.”

Stefen entered the room. He had been absent the entire day. “An excellent debut,” Stefen said. “The people are giving you a definite persona. The style switching and the stinky ward have them talking about your prowess with sword and pollen, yet they can see you flaunting your superiority. Having them notice your ability with pollen will keep some from thinking you are you.”

“I didn’t want to lose,” Sam said. “Since I wasn’t disqualified, my irritation paid off.”

“It would have paid off even if they ran you out of the tournament,” Stefen said. “Out of all the contestants, you were the one everyone talked about. I spent all this time in the city’s taverns gauging the matches.”

“Is this what you wanted?” Sam said to Kened.

“Not really. My goal was to give you experience fighting Toraltians. You succeeded with that, but I always thought you were better than the provincial duelists.”

“Where do we go from here?” Worren said.

“Dinner,” Sam said. “I am hungry.”

After washing up and changing clothes, Sam, Kened, Worren, and Stefen, at Sam’s insistence, showed up at the city’s hall. The dinner had already started, but there were seats for three of them. Stefen demurred and found a spot far from them.

Sam sat next to the Norlankian woman who had finished second in the tournament. She mostly ignored him until Sam asked her where she had learned to duel so well, having to speak through Worren.

The woman looked a little flustered, probably fighting with her distaste of Effian Walk. “I had brothers who fought, so I was expected to follow in their footsteps. I could beat them both by the time I was twenty,” she said.

She looked closer at Sam and his beard. “Just how old are you?”

“Not quite twenty,” Sam said. “But I have fought in different countries. I have been to Toraltia, Norlank, Wollia, and of course, all the Polistian countries. I had an exceptional trainer at the University of Tolloy, Pilot Grott. The Vaarekian dictator, Viktar Kreb, conscripted all the good swordsmen into his army. I fought on the same battlefield where Kreb died.”

“We heard about Kreb,” the woman said. “He tried to set up weapon depots in Norlank, but they were discovered. They found most of the weapons were pollen or cheaply-made metal. His supporters would have been cut down.”

“I don’t know about those kinds of things. I wouldn’t be able to understand how someone would think taking advantage of his allies would be a long-term strategy.

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