The Kingdom of Liticea: The Sorcerer Prince

Chapter Sixteen: Julius the Black

The tournament lost its flare after the stabbing of Baldrick Guale. The people, already thirsting to see blood, were calling for Sir Julius to slice the Userian's head off and place it on a spike. Arhan had vacated his seat after sheep dung had been flung in his direction followed by calls to 'go back south, sand rat!' He stuck close to his mercenaries who now formed a protective circle around their employer and Nakbar. Crowds were circling them like hyena's around lions. Nakbar's band of warriors were imposing with their fit bodies and alien weapons, but that only kept the slurs and the punches so far away. Stones were thrown and swords were drawn and one poor bastard got his face slashed by a knife.

It became so chaotic, that Bartera Noc and the Brukalil had to to be brought in to restore order. When the crowds cleared away and went back to their seats, Brukalil soldiers were standing everywhere. Even the most uninformed peasant knew better than to get on the bad side of the Legion. For the final match, Captain Noc and ten others personally guarded the Duke and all his guests. Era kept all her children close. Ronnis and Rooney were scared and clung to their mother's leg. Brunos was visibly nervous as the mob slid away.

Tauron and several other nobles asked Lord Dayvey if he was going to cancel the last round. He found the idea preposterous. Hundreds of tournaments had been held on this day and it was not going to top because of a bad wound and a riled up crowd. They could understand not stopping it for the fatality of some nameless knight from a small keep in the middle of who-knows-where, but this was Baldrick Gaule. The son of an Archbaron of Forthren. To not delay the match to honor his falling might be considered a slight, especially to Desmond The Frogman.

"The match continues!" he shouted to all in the stands, "The champion shall now be decided!"

If the Userian won, there would be blood in Blackfield. Prince Tauron knew it. The people lived for these events. It was the only break the monotony of peasant life besides war and natural disasters. They want entertainment and they will get it or they will make it themselves and it usually involved them turning on materials, animals and each other. 

Helg and Julius were both watching the commotion from their small waiting room. They watched the whole fight between Nakbar and Baldrick and when the match-ending shot came, they both could not believe what they were seeing. Baldrick was a formidable fighter throughout all the rest of his bouts. He attacked with a blend of ferocity and coordination that neither of them had witnessed in many knights. He could be a brute and mercilessly pound his opponents into submission with his morning star. When the heir of Toad Keep fought Sir Randolf Polk, another close friend of Sir Julius, he provided all the offence. Randolf could do little besides duck behind his shield and pray for the rain of morningstars to end. It was a display of strength that brought anxiety to Julius, but at the same time excitement. It was the third round and each match he had was unbelievably boring. Baldrick was the one who would put him to the test and make him work to win his place as champion.

Now that challenger was being carried away on a stretcher with his aging father going crazy at his side. It was a sad sight. And what was most discouraging that the Userian, as he saw it won by sheer luck. It was a thousand-to-one chance that he perfectly timed the tip of his spear to rise just high enough to catch a small gap in the armor above Baldrick's collarbone. And now all that Julius had to beat was a Userian sellsword rat that got in a lucky shot. What a champion he will be.

"That hit could've been anything, Juluis, but it was not luck," Helg explained after Julius complained to him. As the Litici Black Sun, Sir Julius had few people to express to. Fortunately, the only one in Blackfield was right next to him and was willing to listen, to a point.

"Don't underestimate him," Helg added, "That's the mistake everyone in this Castle has done. And look where it got them."

"I want a warrior to fight, not a dancer. He wears a scarf wrapped around his head for Rannos' sake!"