Sword of the Bright Lady by M.C. Planck

Author:M.C. Planck
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9781616149895
Publisher: Prometheus Books
Published: 2013-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

17.

FIGHT CLUB

The other two men dressed for battle while Christopher meditated. Then Christopher ran through a few kata, to loosen up his muscles and the knot in his stomach. Karl grimly followed along.

Cannan watched them silently until the end.

“Dance that well outside, and we may have a chance,” the big knight said. As rousing speeches went, it wasn’t.

Christopher felt ridiculous, like he was participating in a World Wrestling Federation match. There was a noisy crowd, the smell of beer, contestants in funny costumes, and an absurd fight card of a tag-team of Good guys against one super-Bad guy. He stopped feeling that way when he saw Bart.

The dark knight was standing at the other side of the square, facing one of his men. The soldier had his glove off and was holding his palm up in the air. Bart shoved a dagger through the man’s hand, pulled it out, and dropped it to the ground. The man winced silently, but not because tael blocked the pain. His hand was bleeding freely.

Bart raised the man’s hand to his face, smeared the blood from his forehead to his chin. He smiled, if you could call it that, a rapturous demonic possession. He released the soldier, who let the priest bandage his hand, obviously saving the healing magic for their lord. Bart turned to the field of honor while another soldier placed a large black helmet on his head.

“It means nothing.” Niona tried to sound reassuring but lacked confidence. “There is no arcane or divine significance. He only seeks to frighten you.”

The way Christopher’s knees went weak belied her words. It was plenty significant. “It means he’s one twisted bastard.”

“You have no idea,” Lalania said with deep sadness. “I could tell you tales to curdle your blood. He rules absolutely in his own land, save for the edicts of the King. But edicts only reach where officers of the crown go, and they don’t go into dungeons or villages.

“This is a heroic contest,” she told the little group. “I foresee many profitable nights recounting the story. But happy endings are always more popular, so please try to win.”

“You’ll make me famous?” Cannan grinned. “I’ve always wanted to be famous.”

“I’ll try,” she said, “but it will be hard to compete with the valorous Goodman Karl. His presence here is inexplicably courageous. To follow his master into battle when he is so utterly outclassed is loyalty beyond measure.” Christopher was going to object that he was the one following Karl, but she wasn’t paying attention to him. Karl was doing his thing again, where all other men turned invisible. “It is a crime that such a man should be unranked,” she said softly.

“I agree,” Cannan said. “These lands have become corrupt when such bravery is not rewarded.”

“It was rewarded.” Christopher felt compelled to defend his new homeland. “Karl turned it down.”

Cannan was surprised. The troubadour wasn’t. She’d already heard the tale. “Which makes him even more inexplicable.”

“I can explain it,” Christopher said, since Karl wasn’t saying anything.

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