Chapter three and the tension increases. This chapter focuses more on introducing original characters and laying down the foundation of the small world I hope to build. So, this'll be less mad tutors and more of Mentor Orieus, Angry Orieus, and Competetive Edmund. If any of the characters manage to impress you, let me know!

11th. Greenroof, 1000 - Third-day

CLANG!

Edmund's shield landed - wham! - near the armoury's stone walls and he jumped to avoid Sinon's blade. Though the Centaur had given up his advantage of height by letting Edmund fight from a taller platform, he was still too fast and agile for Edmund. Too muscular and strong. And Edmund was intimidated. But he ducked to avoid getting a bruise from the wooden sword and let his rear foot thrust him forward as he made his offense, swinging his own practice sword—steel but blunt—at Sinon; he arched backwards gracefully and Edmund's sword uselessly cut the air. Before Edmund could withdraw his weapon, the Centaur clashed his wooden sword with Edmund's with so much force that he had to wonder why it didn't shatter into pieces.

The muscles in Edmund's wrist throbbed as it was twisted mercilessly. Edmund shrieked and let go of the hilt. The sword landed at Sinon's hoofs, and Edmund froze to feel the wood's coarse surface at his throat. But then Sinon withdrew his weapon and Edmund sighed, jumping off the small dais. He was still rubbing his wrist when he reached Orieus, followed closely by the Centaur he'd just sparred against.

He frowned once at the Wolves laughing at him.

"Arolos!" Orieus said, glaring at the pup and his brother, Euras. Both were the sons of Knight Baneclaw, their best scout, and Captain of the Wolves. The wolves flicking tails went still and they quieted, frowning. "Go fetch King Edmund some water from the armoury," Orieus commanded. And the wolves glanced once at each other before racing to the armoury only meters away, bordering the Southern Courtyard that was also Cair's Training Grounds. The armoury's walls had been painted black. It was a small building, home to Cair's best weapons and armours. The round room in the middle led to the stairs, curling into the ground, to the smithy. Edmund could almost hear the dwarfs' exasperated shouts.

Edmund sat down on the grass. All around him, fauns, centaurs, even minotaurs with their axes were dueling. And his voice was almost lost in the clangs! of clashing metal when he said, "I lost again, General."

A faun lost his balance when a thrust came with unexpected force, and he swiveled through the air before crashing into Edmund. Edmund groaned, and the faun, Sybil, gathered himself up, muttering so many apologies at once that Edmund didn't understand a word. Edmund sat up, crossing his legs.

"It's alright."

But Sybil went on apologizing. "Sybil! I'm fine!"

The faun looked up, still rubbing the back of his neck. "Sire, I'm sorry. It was Athelius' fault, you see."

"It was not!" Athelius protested from behind him. And Edmund and Orieus looked past Sybil to find his brother approaching them, sheathing his sword expertly. Edmund laughed; Athelius reminded him of his brother, blond and arrogant, yet a spirit to admire. The two brother fauns were sons of Captain Matfil; and he was retiring soon. That meant one of the brothers would inherit his post in the army. They'd have to earn it of course. And right now, it seemed the older of the two was winning. "I apologize for my brother's extreme clumsiness, Sire. It was only a push."

Edmund laughed again when Sybil snorted. "That's untrue."

"You can barely maintain your guard, Sybil! Of course, you couldn't maintain your balance!"

"Athelius!"

"Sybil!"

Orieus shook his head when the fauns began advancing on each other; Edmund frowned when Orieus stepped between them. He'd have liked a wrestling match. But he shrugged and listened in amusement as the General gave them a good scolding. Edmund began taking off his muddy armour. Sinon, whose presence Edmund had forgotten about, gave him the sword Edmund had forgotten to pick up. "You're getting better," Sinon assured, glancing once at the fauns, both bowing their heads in shame as Orieus told them they were still foals.

Edmund stripped off his chain mail. "Not as good as Peter. He's won against you, hasn't he? Without standing on a raised platform?"

"He's four years older than you, Majesty."

"Three," Edmund said with a scoff. Though the difference was closer to four. He took off his metal boots and wiggled his sore toes. Putting on his leather boots, he said, "Thank you, Sinon." The Centaur bowed and began to walk away, towards an interesting match unfolding between Kraten and Tabil, two new recruits in the army.

"Your father will hear of your immature behaviour! And in front of your King!" Orieus was saying, but Edmund glanced at the armoury in anticipation.

"Where are those wolves?"

And just then, a mass of entangled white and black fur stumbled out of the gates of the armoury, balancing a jug of water between two arguing heads. "I'll take it!"

"No, I will!"

"I will!"

"I!"

Edmund shook his head and stood up, dusting his mud-covered tunic. "Euras! Arolos! And now Wallus, too?" Edmund sprinted in the three wolves' direction and snatched the jug from them before they could protest. The pups jumped, Wallus the highest, taking advantage of his height and age. "Hey! Stop it!" Edmund said when Arolos bit his sleeve. Euras nuzzled his nose into his black fur, licking his hand. Edmund noticed it was bleeding.

"He bit me! Arolos bit me!" he said.

"Well, you bit me first!"

"Stop it!" Wallus suddenly said, surprising Edmund. "Or I'm going to bite you both. Father is looking for us. Wait till mother hears you bit him, Arolos," and with that Wallus ran north, out of the Traning Grounds. Arolos and Euras were quick to follow. Euras stopped once and twisted towards him. "King Edmund, thank you."

Edmund furrowed his brows. "No, thank you!" he tried but the wolves were already gone, dodging hoofs and swords as they ran out of the Courtyard, back towards the Castle. He took a sip of water from the jug, wondering if Orieus was done scolding Athelius and Sybil.

"And you, Athelius! A warrior does not boast about his skills!"

So, he guessed not. He drank until his stomach was full of water. And then leaned back, his arms supporting his weight. "Tired?" Edmund's head dropped back and an upside figure of his brother was staring at him, blocking the early rays of the sun.

Edmund sighed and stood up. "A little." He eyed his brother, dressed in the most formal tunic, and a thin chain mail. His boots were polished and hair combed. Was he getting ready for one of Susan's tea parties? Edmund rolled his eyes. "You're late. And Orieus is in bad mood," he said, glancing at the General and the fauns that still stood with their heads hung low.

"I was having my breakfast, Ed," Peter said, flourishing Rhindon out of its sheath. "Fancy a match? Or maybe not." Peter wrinkled his nose, glancing at his brother. "You're dripping with mud."

"That's what you'll look like after thirty minutes."

"That's why you don't bathe in the morning?"

"Precisely. But I'll fight you. Just let me get my armour."

"No, wait, Ed, there's no need," said Peter suddenly, stopping his brother with a hand on his shoulder. Edmund's brows wrinkled together and he gave him a look.

"Are you sure? With Rhindon? At least get a practice sword," Edmund said. And he turned to the sounds of approaching hooves. Orieus, along with the brother fauns, was staring at them, giving them a suspicious look. "Peter wants to spar without armour. And without practice swords," he added. Peter tried to deny it but Orieus spoke up.

"We shall see," the General said. "Take off your chain mail then, King Peter. Let this be a fair fight. Athelius, your sword." The faun blinked, looking at the General at the call of his name. Then he drew out his sword, admiring it for a second. He handed the blade to Orieus. And then Orieus to Edmund.

Edmund's hand dropped along with the sword and the blade dug into the ground. "It's too heavy!"

"It seems you have an audience, my Kings," Orieus said, glancing around. The Narnian soldiers had circled around them. Rhinsil, the Captain of the Minotaurs shouted, "Begin!" More cheers followed him. Even Sinon was encouraging this foolishness.

"But Orieus—" Peter said, concerned for his little brother. Edmund was still trying to pick up the sword without tumbling to the ground. "It's not—Oh!"

Peter staggered back when Edmund suddenly thrust towards, leaping off the ground to clash his sword with Rhindon.

CLANG! the swords sang as they met once again. Peter stepped back, shifting his weight on his rear foot as he struggled against his brother's heavy blade. Then he thrust forwards, grinning to see Edmund's small figure stumble back. Peter approached kept his side guarded with his right arm and sword, but Edmund had left an opening. One that would be too hard to resist if he'd been facing an enemy. But he would not hurt his little brother. So, he circled him, sword still protecting him. Edmund had quickly regained his guard as well. The muscles in his wrist had popped out as he tried to balance the sword. This match would leave him sore for days.

Edmund leaped back when Peter swung Rhindon at him, clearly unintended to even touch him. Edmund frowned, feeling insulted that his brother would think he couldn't defend himself. He'd show him. He adjusted his hold on the hilt and then swung it above his head once, too quick for Peter to take advantage of the opening he'd left, and then thrust forwards, sword pointed directly at Peter's chest. Peter only to had to step to his left by an inch and Edmund missed him entirely.

Then he felt a sharp blow to his elbow, disabling his right arm. Edmund dropped the sword and let out a small squeak with Peter kicked his knee, forcing him to the ground. He dropped ahead, making dust spiral up. He blew sand out of his face.

"Edmu—"

But his voice was cut off with Orieus' cry of, "Get up or admit defeat!"

The crowd cheered for the High King. Everyone except Orieus and Peter was shouting that they had a clear victor.

"Ed?"

Edmund pulled himself up, propping his upper body on trembling arms. His elbow was screaming in agony, and his knee was weak. But he stood up, swaying. He bent down to pick his sword, arm braced for its sheer weight this time. Then he positioned himself, placing his right foot ahead, in line with his sword. Peter shook his head, but Edmund smiled to see his brother's eyes twinkle with pride.

Peter made the first move this time, slashing the sword at Edmund. Edmund blocked the attack.

Clang!

The sound was sharper and lower. Edmund had remembered to maintain his guard this time as he moved back and began circling again. The swords met once again when Edmund swung his sword at Peter's feet, only to have it blocked by Rhindon; Edmund's arm twinged. Peter drew a circle in the air with the two swords, forcing Edmund to rotate his arm with him as he continued the motion. Edmund tried to counter the force but no avail. When the swords were low, near the ground, Peter swung Edmund's sword aside with a final thrust. Edmund was ashamed to have let go of his sword that easily.

Peter slashed Rhindon at Edmund's feet, making him jump, and then lose his balance. He staggered, backing as Peter advanced on him. Peter swung his sword at Edmund's feet again. This time the blade caught the boot and Edmund was cruelly thrown to the earth.

His skull collided with the ground.

"Edmund!"

"No, stop," Orieus' voice said.

But Edmund only groaned, seeing pink stars. "Orieus, let me go! He's hurt!"

"He's stronger than you think," came the confident reply.

Edmund didn't feel too confident at the moment. He felt numb. He groaned again when dull pain shot through his skull. "Edmund? Ed, come on!" Edmund's hands drowned in the sand as he searched for his sword. There was no point. It was too far. "Ed!" Edmund rolled onto his chest, screwing his eyes shut when the pain came back. Then he pulled himself off the ground with much effort. Instantly, he stumbled back, ready to fall again.

"Edmund!"

But strong hands grabbed him, steadying him. Edmund opened his eyes. The brightest light filtered in and he blinked a few times before he found Sinon's face. "Thank you," he muttered. And then stood up straight, trying to hide his embarrassment and flushed cheeks. Sinon then unsheathed his long sword. He offered it to him.

"It's lighter than most swords, Majesty."

Edmund nodded and took the sword from him. He took his position before Peter. Peter looked extremely concerned.

"Ed, we don't have to continue. It's not a fair fight," Peter was saying as they circled once again. Edmund just focused on his manner, how he maintained his guard, how he used his rear foot to increase the force of his thrusts, how he could see Edmund's attacks before he even initiated them. "Edmund, at least let me get a practice sword. I don't want to hurt you again."

Edmund went silently this time, unthreatening, steps cat-light. Slowly, he covered the distance between them. And when he was close enough, CLANG!

Peter had stopped him this time, too. Like he'd seen it. How? It didn't matter. He would beat him. He. Would. Beat. Him.

Edmund slashed his sword rapidly at Peter and Peter leaned back every time it came close, avoiding the blade's tip by mere inches. Edmund never caught him. Then he thought cleverly. His brother would anticipate another slash, not a thrust. Edmund readied his rear foot, shifting his weight on his right foot. And then he leaped. Peter moved right this time.

Edmund tasted sand again.

Peter shook his head. "Eddie, really, you can't beat me. Just like I can't beat you in chess. Stop this nonsense."

"High King Peter!" the crowd cheered. Edmund blew out sand from his mouth. The clouds of dust slowly receded and he saw Orieus, leaning on his long sword, watching him, trusting in him. Edmund mustered up all the strength he had. He stood up again. For Orieus. For Sinon. For Sybil, to tell him big brothers aren't always the best. And for himself.

"I'll beat you," Edmund said, spitting out sand.

"Ed, you can't," Peter said as the brothers circled again. "Please stop."

"No."

And he jumped. A mid-air turn, and a wavering slash at Peter's neck. Peter barely ducked in time. He hadn't seen it coming. "Edmund, one of us could die."

"You would never hurt me, would you, Peter?" Edmund mocked and then made another unexpected blow at Peter's feet.

Peter didn't have time enough to jump. He skittered back, hopping like a helpless squirrel. Edmund didn't give him time to recover. Whoosh! the air said as Edmund slashed his sword at his brother again. The sword jabbed lightly at Peter's shoulder. "Edmund!" Peter shrieked, though his thick tunic had saved him from the worst damage.

Edmund slashed at his chest. No time to recover, regain his position and guard. Peter arched back. And again. And again. And again.

Until he'd had enough.

CLANG!

Rhindon had already thrown away Edmund's sword by the time Peter stood up straight. Edmund took small steps back when Peter advanced. Peter yanked him forward by his wrist, knocked the air out of his lungs with a light kick to the stomach, and then hit his back with his elbow to once again throw him to the hard ground. Edmund groaned and then stiffened to feel Rhindon's tip at his neck.

"Yield," Peter said, clearly angered. "Edmund, yield!"

Edmund blinked away tears, seeing through his blurry vision, the nod Orieus gave him. "I yield," he murmured. And Peter stepped back.

Edmund was quickly sitting upright on the ground, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

"Ed?"

"I'm alright," he said, sniffing.

"Sybil, take him to our room, will you?" Peter said, sheathing his sword.

Seeing Sybil approach him, Edmund growled, "I'm fine!"

Edmund stormed out of the Training Grounds.

Edmund had managed to stop crying by the time he reached his room. Edmund's valet, Tirius, had already prepared a hot bath for him, fresh clothes had been laid on the bed. Tirius helped him limp in. His knee still hurt. The faun ushered him to Edmund's bed, gently pushing him down onto the mattress.

Then taking Edmund's boots off, he asked, "Trouble in the Training Grounds, Sire?"

Edmund thanked the faun when his boots were off and then said, "Where's Tavas?"

Tirius asked him to pull up his arms and helped him strip off his shirt. "I don't know, Majesty. Perhaps helping the Queens to prepare the Great Hall for today's court hearings. They are to be held in two hours."

Edmund stood up, rubbing his arms in the cold. He cursed under his breath. Court Hearings. He should get ready for them. He walked to the bathing chambers, and as he shut the door, he said, "Ask Tavas to move Peter's stuff back to his room."

How was the fencing scene? Too much? Too less? Characters you liked? Was Edmund's reaction over the top? Now, Athelius and Sybil have appeared in some of my previous stories. I didn't mention they're brothers then, but I have in coming chapters of 'Black Justice'. And if you're wondering about Dracus, he isn't introduced to Edmund until the fourth year of their reign. I'm still planning that story, but it's still only bits and pieces. Thank you for reading and please review!

Response to P: Thank you! It's high praise for me that you found the previous chapter educational. Hopefully, this was a nice change?

With love,
~Pacifia