The Lion Guard: King of Outremer

Chapter 3: The Queen of Outremer

Beshte took in the gentle ocean breeze from the bow of their ship as it glided across the Mediterranean sea. The hulking Norman Knight savored the spray of water across his face, cooling him from the sun's incessant burden from a lack of clouds.

Beshte never did well in the sun but figured he'd have to get used to it given where he'd live now.

"Nervous?" He heard Anga ask. The noblewoman came up beside him and leaned against the wooden railing.

"Maybe." Beshte admitted sheepishly.

Anga chuckled.

"Maybe? What happened to the booming confidence you Norman's are known for?"

"We're fearless in battle. This is something different. Leaving home-" Beshte started.

"Leaving home! You Normans are famous for leaving home to seek glory and adventure-" Anga laughed, earning a frustrated look from the imposing knight.

"Are you just going to keep bringing up what most Normans are known for and laughing at the fact that I don't fit all of those descriptions to a tee?"

"Well, you saying that takes some of the fun out of it."

Beshte sighed.

"Look, I'll admit it wasn't as easy leaving France as I thought it would be." Anga admitted, her expression becoming more vulnerable.

"Still, we're practically a family ourselves, and no way I'm letting Kion go to perhaps the most dangerous Kingdom on Earth alone." Anga's voice hardened again into fierce dedication, earning a smile from Beshte.

"Oui! Plus, Kion isn't the only one there who needs help. Protecting Outremer is a duty to God, one that requires the utmost strength, devotion, and commitment." Beshte was about to speak when the two heard vomiting.

Looking over, they saw a sickly Bunga, green in the face and utterly miserable as he lay sprawled over the railing.

"Utmost strength, devotion, and commitment. Someone ought to remind Bunga of that." Anga chuckled.

"Uhhhg, if God intended men to travel by sea, he'd have given us fins." Bunga moaned.

"Ohh, Bunga." Beshte sighed.

Below deck, Kion stood in a fighting stance across from Fuli. The Prince wore only a pair of trousers with his muscular body exposed. Despite this, Fuli paid such things little mind and smiled.

She held a wooden knife in each hand and lunged towards her Prince, slashing and stabbing with ruthless efficiency. However, Kion blocked our countered Fuli's attacks, grappling with her but unable to land a decisive blow due to her speed.

"Come on! A knife can kill just as easily as a sword, Kion!" Fuli growled with a devious grin. Narrowing his eyes, Kion snatched Fuli's wrist as she came in to stab. The young woman tried to force his arm back and get him into a vice, but Kion proved too strong and swept Fuli's legs, hurling her onto the ground.

However, not a moment after doing so, the Prince snatched up a wooden sparring sword on a nearby table and brought it up just in time to counter a blow from Ono.

The chaplain followed up with a series of furious strikes high and low, keeping Kion on his toes until the Prince found his stance and came back, eventually landing two armor-beating half-sword blows onto Ono's bare chest and side.

Ono grunted but nodded with approval. All three youths panted heavily and felt sweat trickle down their skin as if they'd taken a dip in the ocean.