Elemental Links by M. A. Leon

Author:M. A. Leon [Leon, M. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781999572112
Publisher: M. A. Leon

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Kyle won the next round. Minutes after the bout ended, the next schedule was on the board. Another quarter of an hour passed and Shane beat Kyle with ease, exhorting himself little more than necessary to scrape by with three points, all from Kyle’s legs and arms. By the time Kyle faced Jake, the noble was looking nervous. His body language gave away small spasms and fidgets that made Jake sorry he had to take him out. With a simple dodge under Kyle’s jab and a spin that collided Jake’s sword to Kyle’s back, Jake won by three points.

As Jake exited the arena, his gaze magnetically found Shane’s. Shane winked. The act was so unlike Shane that Jake deemed it a ruse to throw him off before the first round even began. It was then Jake realised the only way he could beat Shane would be to have never known him in the first place. Jake had to forget everything he knew about Shane of Hadlen, except for his style of fighting.

And the fact that Witherton trained him too, Jake thought to himself. He tried to recall every lesson Witherton had ever taught him, thinking Shane could use any one of them against him. Jake was possibly the only person in the world who had any hope of foreseeing even a small portion of Shane’s manoeuvres, aside from Witherton himself.

Within the next quarter-hour intermission, a wooden plaque with the Maldra coat of arms was hung to the right of Dweyton’s platform and another coat of arms, which Jake guessed was Fief Hadlen’s sign, dangled on the left. Shane’s family symbol portrayed a drooping black rose overshadowed by a white one in full bloom. Black petals lay below the hanging face of the dark flower. Oddly enough, the subtle message of the roses made Jake more uneasy than if the shield had depicted a lion ripping out the throat of a sheep.

Stop it. Getting yourself worked up over a stupid rose isn’t helping, Jake chided himself.

Ring-a-ling. The bell rang, signalling the crowd to regroup for the final match.

After just one day, Jake was getting tired of hearing the bell over and over. By now, even the jangle of someone removing their armour set his nerves on edge.

Jake tried not to enter the arena along-side Shane; it would have felt too much like comrades stepping onto a battlefield. He saluted Lord Dweyton and Cassie with the hilt of his sword to his forehead. Louie was perched on the corner of his chair as if it were taking more willpower than he had ever exerted to keep his bum on the seat.

Shane strolled amiably to his position in the centre of the ring, using the dull tip of his practise sword as a walking stick.

While the herald announced them, Jake closed his eyes, taking deep breaths while casting out every trace of Laughing Shane, Passionate Shane, Helpful Shane, Supportive Shane, and all others but Tournament Shane from his mind. When he opened his eyes again, he grimaced at the dark adversary before him.

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