Chapter Forty-Five
"Some souls are connected by an ancient calling beyond worlds"
…
"This is a lot of coins," Silvanna murmurs to herself as her eyes read the report that she received from Prime Minister Jonathan Johnson. It is the latest update with the revenue that the tourney had managed to collect and suffice it to say that Silvanna is pleased, very pleased indeed.
Money is pouring in like waterfall as taxes and "protection fees" collect the funds for Arendelle. One of the main rules that Silvanna implemented for this tourney that anyone willing to participate must willing to pay a fee in order to enter. The higher strung the event that you are entering like jousting, the higher the fee compared to the archery and wrestling contests. Of course seeing that everyone and their friend is here, everyone paid in order to get their representatives or they themselves into the tourney if only to save face. Many of the attendees after all had rivals attending also the tourney; thus every self-respecting monarch or representative were forced enter their man to the tourney if only to save face to their present rivals who would also do the same due to having the same reasons as they also had. All in all this makes Silvanna a very happy and rich woman. Lance Trading after all is fronting a lot of the payment of this tourney thus the lion's share of the percentage would be paid to the company instead of Arendelle's coffers.
"You know Silvie, when you grin like that I've got a feeling that you're about to gain again a boatload of money that would seriously cause our dear prime minister to hate you for all the paperwork that you are subjecting him to," says Elsa who is busy binding the bandages soaked with ointment around Silvanna's bare navel.
After laying on her a tirade that would make anyone blush due to her less than stellar actions at the joust; Elsa for the past three days had been Silvanna's nurse barely leaving her side and making sure that she had enough ample rest so that her bruised ribs would not worsen. Apparently going lance to lance with the Black Prince of England was not a good career move for someone who was trying out jousting for the first time.
"Are you sure that prophecy is not part of your powers Elsa?" asks Silvanna coyly at her lover who is now attempting to help her put on a soft but stylish cotton shirt of blues and whites, a good alternative for Silvanna's attire in her current condition.
"Last time I checked, the only powers I have are still creating ice," answers Elsa. She smirks though as she stands in front of Silvanna smoothing out her shirt (Silvanna doesn't fail to notice that Elsa's hand stays a second or two longer in her chest though). "When I get new ones though, you'll be the first to know about it,"
"At least you can make very nice dresses now," comments Silvanna earning her a beatific smile from Elsa.
Apparently after a lot of trial and error, Elsa finally manages to hone her control of ice that she form her ice into anything she wants. Of course seeing her passion for fashion, she immediately aggregates into making dresses and gowns with her powers like the original timeline. Silvanna tried to volunteer of course out of curiosity as to what Elsa can whip up for her only for the pretty princess to adamantly refuse. Apparently despite her newfound breakthrough in her powers, Elsa is still skittish enough that she won't try it with anyone unless she's ABSOULUTELY sure that she won't accidentally lose control. Silvanna of course acquiesce to her reasonable decision and thus the two of them had spent many hours debating on styles and designs in their evenings together as Elsa used her magic instead on mannequins instead.
"Yes, yes I can and my control's growing with it," answers Elsa as the two of them exit the room they are staying in the Colliseum and enter the raised dais connected to it where their two seats rest side by side. "Hopefully I would be confident enough to try it on myself before trying it on you," her smile turned sly. "I would really like to see you in a gown Silvie,"
Silvanna has to hold back the snort that threatens to leave her lips. If only Elsa knows how good her appearance change would look. Back home, her change resulted to boys fanboying her by the millions and straight girls going gay for her. That is even before she was nothing more than a three-D animation of Disney. Silvanna can't help but anticipate the time that she would find her confidence and beauty. She will not hold herself then from delaying the inevitable spark between them.
"Uhmm Silvie, are you alright? You have been staring at me like you want to eat me," the voice of Elsa snaps Silvanna back to reality as she realize that she had been drooling over what the future might hold for her lover the past minutes or so.
Blushing horribly at being caught, Silvanna fell back to old tactics that guys used on girls when caught off guard: Cheesiness. "Just admiring your beauty Elsa," she says doing her damnest not to look else Elsa would see the red blush at her cheeks. "I still can't wrap my head sometime that someone like you would choose me,"
She's definitely not surprised with the hug of Elsa from behind. The princess for all her talk of "being safe and wariness" before is extremely touchy, especially when it comes to her.
"You are perfect for me Silvie and more," whispers Elsa kissing her on the cheek.
Normally they would be wary doing this out at the spotlight; however with this early in the morning with people still trickling in at the Coliseum entrances, they can be a bit risqué with their affections. The people would be more interested in the event today instead of looking up at the two of them anyway.
With the joust done, today is the day for the Great Melee to be held with everyone participating.
….
The Great Melee; normally one would expect for a melee in a tourney to be a free-for-all fight with the last fighter being declared the winner. Silvanna however changed all that. The so-called Great Melee in the Grand Tourney is instead an obstacle course, not the free-for-all it traditionally is.
The objective of the contenders is actually simple since they would be fighting together. They would need to assault the "castle" and plant their main flag at its top. It is however not as simple as it looks..The setup of the terrain is a fortress with two gates before the main keep with improvised mud walls. The "castle" would be defended by several hundred mercenaries conveniently employed by the Bounty Hunter's Guild. Of course seeing that this is not a real battle, the weapons are heavily blunted and designed not to cut. Same goes with the arrows and the hot water that would be substitute for the oil that keep defenders would usually use. Ballistae have rubber tips and the catapult ammunition are hardened foam that would break upon impact. Sure they would not kill, but they would obviously bruise.
"We have the disadvantage here," Matthias murmurs as he observes the mud fortress looming over them at the middle of the arena.
"Where would be the fun if there is no challenge to be had Captain?" chuckles Lord Viktor approaching him with several of his Death Dealers all clad in their silver and black armour, the black horse tails at their armour making them stand out.
Matthias resists the urge to scowl at the Lord of the Mines. With all the safety precautions to avoid unnecessary deaths, the disadvantage lies more on the attackers than the defenders. The bounty hunters after all would be doing nothing more than pushing them down off the walls while they have to either knock them out or maim them without killing them. It is far easier to kill a person than knock him out. Plus the attackers have a time limit of two hours at most to complete their objective before the defenders are declared default in victory.
Re checking the straps of his bracers for the last time, Matthias takes a look at his fellow "allies". They are a ragtag bunch from different nations mingling in a symphony of colors but some do stand out like the legionnaires of Rome under Maximus Decimus Meridius, the Spartans under someone named Kassandra, the Vikings under Eivor of the Raven Clan, the English Redguard under the Black Prince of Wales, and the Conquistadors of Spain under Kapitan Juan De Ponce. Of course under him are a dozen of the Winged Hussars without their horses and the Death Dealers with Lord Viktor representing Arendelle.
"NOW MY DEAR LORDS AND LADIES AND THE REST OF YOU WHO ARE HERE, YOUR WAIT IS OVER!" the booming voice of the announcer is heard amid the roars and cheers of the crowds. "THE GREAT MELEE WILL BEGIN IN FIVE…..!"
Matthias pulls down the face shield of his helmet down as he crouches amid his twelve men on their cover.
"FOUR…..!"
"ODIIIIIIIIIIIIIIN!" he promptly ignores the Vikings' excited cheering
"THREE….!"
"AHOO! AHOO! AHOO!"
"TWO!"
"FOR ENGLAND!"
"ONE!"
"For Arendelle! For the Alliance!"
The blast of the trumpet echoing marks the start of the event and everyone breaks cover of the sand piles that they have been assigned at. Matthias and the Winged Hussars are a little late due to their heavy armour compared to the excited ragtag bunch who reacts excitedly in a blind. It certainly proves to be a blessing in disguise.
Arrows immediately meet the charge head on and the sounds of the cheering charge halts as everyone stops and jumps to cover the leaving the unfortunate few groaning on the ground riddled with bruises. Of course the arrows do not kill with their hardened rubber points but they can cause one hell of a punch. The infamous "Prince Ali" who claims to be as strong as ten men with his retinue got the worst of it as their robes do little to protect them from the barrage.
"Forward we move! Tetsudo!" the Romans responds to Maximus' call by forming the infamous turtle shield of the Romans as they broke cover braving the archer fire as they advance.
Of course everyone chose not to be left behind. Many of the independent nation warriors ran forward shields up. The Greeks formed their infamous phalanx as they struggle to follow the Romans up front alongside the Vikings with their shield wall. Others like the ones from Yi Ti are utterly decimated due to their lack of shields.
"Come on people! Shield to shield. We advance behind them!" calls out Lord Viktor, beckoning to the Hussars and his Death Dealers. Matthias of course needs no more incentive as he fell in line with the twenty-four warriors interlocking their kite shields as they advance behind the Roman lines.
Already the attack is gaining ground. With the Romans, Spartans, and Vikings, masters of siege battles leading the way, the approach to the gate goes steady as the distance is closed. It is then that the catapults and the ballistae start firing massive balls of ice and meter long shafts with rubber ends crash into the shield formations with gusto.
No matter how good your formation is; there is just no stopping the show stopping power of large projectiles. Men are sent flying as debris of snow scatter everywhere. Those that manage to retain their feet are skidding and sliding, the ground turning muddy. The Spartans especially got the worst of it as two snow balls, each the size of four men put together got a direct hit at their lines sending the Greeks scattering. The Vikings fare better as they simply manage to return to their feet easily, their fur clothes and armour giving them less weight to deal with. The Romans on the other hand simply change tactic by breaking the Tetsudo into one man space positions with shields facing forward to prevent a single shot from a catapult from crushing all of them.
The constant advance however has given the archers on their side the range needed to fire back. English longbows specifically now have the range to fire back.
"ARCHERS KNOCK, DRAW, LOOSE!" the shout of the Black Prince results to ten bows firing with pinpoint accuracy at the gathered mercenaries who didn't expect the sudden precise barrage. In a matter of seconds, the men atop the walls of the gate are thrown off their feet moaning on the ground in pain. Thankfully none of the leaders of the great nations are idiots.
"Raiders, man the ram! We go Viking!" the shout of Eivor, Wolf-Kissed the large guy leading the Vikings galvanized the twelve or so of his countrymen to roar their agreement as they grab the ram and slam it directly at the wooden gate cracking it at the first blow.
"Cover the Vikings! Cover them!" Maximus' loud voice is enough to bring the attackers to action as they charge beside the Vikings, those with bows covering them from the rest of the arrow fire beside those with shields.
"HEAVE! PUSH!" the battering ram once more swings with the might of a juggernaut slamming to the gates. The attack is followed by the sound of splintering wood as the bars and locks crack open and the gate slam backward with a loud crash. The attackers need no more encouraging.
"FOR SPARTA!" the enthusiastic Spartans with their leader Kassandra takes the front charging forward like a bull crashing to the surprised defenders. The enthusiastic Greeks do what they do best hacking and slashing at anyone too dumb on their way. Behind them the rest of the attacking force poured in.
Matthias however leads the Winged Hussars at the right side of the ram still being pushed by the Vikings. They might be a cavalry unit but all Winged Hussars trained with their sabers daily to hone their skills at the event that they are on foot. Said training now do them well as they move in one formation shield to shield covering the flank of the moving ram to the second gate. They do not need to be attacked at the rear as the Spartans chase around the fleeing defenders in twelve different directions.
"Cover the ram! Move! Tet- OH SHIT!" the sound of a crash made Matthias wince as he sees the Roman line gets crushed by a ball of ice, courtesy of a catapult from the defenders at the second gate.
"Move! Move! Archers cover the rear eh! Cover the rear!" the calls of the Black Prince urges the rest of the attackers as they are once more pelted with blunt arrows and javelins, the nearer they get to the gate.
Matthias himself grunts as he swings his sabre backhand and forehand sending a berserker mercenary crashing to the ground before collapsing him with a shield bash. Men are falling left and right as arrows and blows are exchanged. The camphony of sounds eerily reminds him of the Battle of Nogrod so many months ago.
"HEAVE! ODIN!" the ram smashes to the second gate again and again as the muscular Vikings wield it expertly against the final defense to victory.
"HEAVE- AAHHHHH! HOT! HOT!" the wielders of the ram ran around like little girls, skin red raw courtesy of the hot water poured from above. Of course this results to cheers from the defenders as they pelt the running Vikings with blunted arrows and large snowballs thrown from slings.
"Man the ram!" the stern voice of Lord Viktor made Matthias focus back at the breaking gate and not at one of the Vikings almost made to a snowman by the amount of snow hurled unto him.
"HEAVE! LOOSE!" the sound of creaking rope is heard as the ram slams once more into the gate cracking it open; paving the way to the keep.
"FOR VIC-UGGGH!" the charging members of the other nations immediately go down like bowling pins as they are pelted by dozens of arrows courtesy of the defenders manning the mud wall. The Captain of the Hussars thankfully has the common sense on keeping his men behind the ram else they would have joined the disaster.
"We will break through, everybody else follow us!" Maximus yells amid the din of battle before leading his men to the opening at the gate. As expected arrows immediately pelt the Romans but the Legionnaires have managed to quickly form their infamous Tetsudo drawing most of the fire from the mercenaries.
Matthias wastes no more time as he looks at the gathered attackers for a few seconds before shouting a war cry gesturing for everyone to follow him. The rest needs no invitation as they broke cover and charges alongside the Winged Hussars in a single file ignoring the unfortunate few bruised by the arrows redirected at them from the Romans.
As Matthias crashes his shield on the nearest at the nearest bounty hunter; he smirks as he notices the black clad armour of the Death Dealers held back beforehand now pushing past through the mass of fighting bodies easily due to them still being rested and refreshed. As they cut through their lines towards the flag, he roars a war cry of victory. It seems this round goes to Arendelle.
…
Author's Note:
I know this is lesser than my previous chapters, but I am kinda rushing the story so that I can move on to my next planned one. Next up is the end of the tourney. Originally I planned for the tourney to have two more chapters; the chariot race and the ship racing but due to the lack of support in this story, I am hurrying it as best as I can without making it too ugly.