The Swordsman's Intent by G.M. White

Author:G.M. White [White, G.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781916179929
Publisher: Twin Star Press

The competition ended with several students having outperformed the rest, Ervan and Belasko highest amongst them. They all gathered around Markus, who stood in the centre of the duelling circle. They were tired after the many hours of training, the long day of duelling, but most of those who had lost were happy, having given their all. Most, but not all. Markus began to speak.

“I’m proud of you. All of you. You should be proud of yourselves. You have trained hard, fought well, given all that I asked of you and more. You are all deserving in your own ways. However, I can choose only one of you to be my successor.”

He looked around at the group, the hopeful expressions on some faces, resignation on others.

“The person I choose has been exemplary throughout their time here. Not just in their sword work, but in their attitude. Their conduct. They have demonstrated to me, in many ways, that they are the right choice to be my successor. To train with me, and one day soon, to take on the mantle of the Royal Champion. Defender of the king’s own honour.”

He paused, then smiled. “Fittingly, it is a role he has taken on before, albeit by happenstance. Belasko, I choose you.”

Belasko blinked, surprised, before a slow smile spread across his face. The other students surrounded him, clapping him on the shoulder, on the back, calling out congratulations. All save one: Ervan, who stood apart, face expressionless, cold, like a statue hewn from marble.

Markus walked over to Belasko and held out his hand, which the younger man gripped and shook.

“Thank you, Markus, sir. It’s an honour. I’ll do my best to repay your faith in me,” said Belasko. “I—”

“No,” said Ervan. The others quieted, looking at the young aristocrat with puzzled expressions. “No,” he said again, “it can’t be. He cannot be the champion.”

Markus’s expression was frosty. “Why not? Who are you to say, to dictate my choice?”

“I’m better than him—than all of you. It should be me.”

“Ervan, I’m sorry you’re upset,” said Belasko, “but there was only ever going to be one of us chosen. Most of the people in this room were going to be disappointed today. I fully expected to be. This surprises me as much as anyone, but—”

“Surprise?” Byrta snorted. “You’ve been the best of us the whole way through this. I’m definitely not surprised. Almost relieved it’s not me, to be honest.” She grinned at Belasko. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

Ervan’s eyes were fixed on Belasko. “I can beat you.”

“You’ve not managed it so far—not in training, and not today. What makes you so convinced?” Markus’s voice was as cold as his expression. “No. You’ve had your chance and are now embarrassing yourself, dishonouring me and the others present. I think you should withdraw your comments and think a little more carefully before speaking in future.”

“I challenge!” Ervan called out, voice ringing like a bell. “I challenge Belasko. One last bout, one last duel to decide the matter.

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