Chapter 4

June 23

High above the field of battle, on the balcony where King Ragnar and his vassals watched, a man dressed in light clothing took his place near the throne. He removed his sword belt and propped it up on his chair. King Ragnar had been paying attention to the games with avid attention, he didn't notice him. The lord cleared his throat to catch the king's attention.

Ragnar turned his attention and was surprised by whom he saw. Lord Aeric had been gone from the court for a few months, traveling the lands of the nomads and beyond the mountains. "Aeric! It's been so long. How did your travels fare?"

Ragnar called for a servant to bring Aeric some watered ale to quench his thirst. When the lord had his fill, the servant hurried away with the empty mug. "It wasn't as enlightening as I had hoped. The lands beyond the mountains are in disarray and not as prosperous as we had thought. What records and books they kept were fading and hardly readable.

"But, I did happen upon a mystic who is very wise in the history of this land," Lord Aeric leaned in closer and whispered the details of the mystic into the king's ear.

"Bah, I don't know why you are bothering with mystics and shamans," King Ragnar scowled, waving a hand in displeasure. "We have no need of them and their illusions."

"Your Majesty there is a hidden potential in this land that can give us the advantage we need over the Vaegirs and Swadians," he said. He leaned closer still. "The mystic told me many wondrous legends of heroes long dead who sealed away the power of the land in fear that others would use it to destroy Cal—"

"Perhaps, it is better that it remained sealed away," Ragnar yelled. His fury caught the attention of those around him who looked at the two with worried stares, but Lord Aeric pressed on.

"I have traveled throughout Calradia and have seen the nations preparing for war," Lord Aeric stated. "The Vaegirs are secretly in league with the Swadians. Both secure their borders against the possibility of attack. Everywhere, I see the forges burning day and night, arming the knights as well as the populace. We could be falling—"

"What? Falling behind? The nerve of you to accuse me of not paying any mind to our neighbors. I have been bolstering our forces with many warriors in our lands as well as those from the homeland." Ragnar turned back to the game. He rejoiced at the sight of two warriors throwing down their battered and useless weapons and charge at each other with only their fists.

"Weapons and men cannot compare with the power I speak of, sir," Aeric tried. Ragnar waved his arm in dismissal.

"Aeric," he began, "I am glad you are back with us again, but I don't want to speak of war. Not yet. I want to enjoy the sport of fighting without thinking of the consequence of death. As to what you are asking, I cannot condone such actions. There is no honor in holding such power."

Fool, Aeric's thoughts screamed. His fingers curled into a fist, his nails digging deep into his palm. A moment later he calmed. If he doesn't want this, then what is to stop me from obtaining it for myself? His lips contorted to a slight smile which he hid by dropping his head and covering his forehead. "You are completely right, my lord. There is no honor in it."

"It is good you see it the way I do," Ragnar laughed. He pointed towards the field where one of the two competitors struck the other with a fierce punch. The opponent dropped on to the sandy floor and didn't stand again. The crowd cheered with victory as the man raised his arms and reveled in his glory. "You should pay attention to the games. They are quite entertaining."

Enjoy this pleasure while it lasts, my good king. "It does seem very lively."

I raised my arms in triumph. This was the second opponent I defeated ever since the brawl at the start of the tournament. After that pit of confusion, the tournament continued with one on one duels. So far I've managed to hold my own against the fighters in my block, but I soon realized I was trapped with those who didn't have as much experience. We were separated by skill and although that gave me a slight chance of hope, I felt a little angry. I wanted to prove my worth and most of these opponents were not worth it.

I saluted King Ragnar, who nodded approvingly, and left the field.

"That was a great match Richter," cried a voice in the waiting room. Hunter wrapped an arm around my shoulders and dropped a mug of ale into my hands. I drank it down and wiped the fizz with the back of my hand. "Are you gonna stay and watch my fight? You know, learn about the competition." He elbowed me in the ribs.

"No, I'm going to the other arenas," I replied.

"Gonna try to find your girlfriend?" he smiled widely and slapped me in the back, on the spot where my opponent struck me with his sword.

"She is not my girlfriend," I retorted, shirking him off me. "I have a wife and three kids back in Kulum. What happened between us was a mistake? I just want to see her and apologize."

Hunter threw up his arms in defeat. "If that is what you want to do, go ahead." He turned around and started to leave. "I'll be around if ever you need something." He disappeared among the crowds like a mist in the middle of the day.

The other arena still held a game when I arrived. I flashed a tournament seal that proved my claim as a contestant to the guards and took to the seats to watch. The sun shone on the golden locks of a woman who lost her helmet in the middle of the fight and I recognized her. Her feet moved lightly across the floor, barely touching as though she was floating. Her sword flashed, whirled, and struck with precision.

But, her opponent was better, deflecting her attacks with deft movements of the wrist. I felt my heart lurch forward when his powerful strike tore the shield from her arm and threw her on her back. She laced her legs around his and tripped him, stood up, and held her sword to his face. The match was over.

I ran out of the stands to find the lobby for the fighters. The crowds thickened after the game for the food cooking on the grounds that I had to elbow my way through them. I saw the golden locks that majestically enthralled the crowds for a moment and reached out my hand to stop her. She looked back, directly into my eyes; a look of dismay and fear crossed her face.

Hannah turned back and tried to leave, but I kept a firm grip on her shoulder. "Hannah, let's talk," I yelled over the noise.

"There is nothing for us to say," she said with a scathing tone. She shrugged off my grip and sighed. "Richter, just leave me alone. Take care in the-"

"No! I won't let you leave until you hear what I have to say," I said to her, approaching closer.

"If you leave me no choice," she resigned, "but can we go speak somewhere more private?"

I nodded and she led the way. We separated from the busy corridors of the arena for the quiet park nearby. We stopped near a fountain and she turned to face me.

"I'm sorry," she bowed.

Her sudden apology made me hesitate for a moment. "Why are you apologizing? I am at fault for what happened."

"No, I led you to it," her face welled up with tears. "You are a great person, Richter, but I couldn't see you knowing what happened between us. I knew you had a wife in the village and yet I still…"

She turned away. I laid a hand on her shoulder and said, "It's alright. Let me worry about her. For now, you should worry about yourself and hold your own in the tournament. I saw you fight. I can say that I am impressed, although, I am not that good myself." She smiled.

"You do realize we might fight each other at some point and I won't go easy on you."

"I don't expect you to." We laughed.

For the rest of the afternoon, we stayed catching up. All the while, I was thinking of either telling my wife or not about my little infidelity. Her anger can match the fiercest tempest of the sea and last twice as long. I'll be living in the mountains for months before I can safely return home.