ARTHUR
I enjoy tournaments; being able to testing my abilities against swordsmen other than my knights. After training so long with the same opponents you learn their fighting style, both their weaknesses and strengths. Fighting against an unknown opponent is much more difficult. It's good practice. When fighting in battle you never know who you will be fighting against. I also enjoy being consumed by that rush you get when you're exhausted and forcing yourself to keep going out of sheer willpower. Yes, I enjoy tournaments, so why do I feel…. No I'm not nervous.
I have no reason to be nervous. I am Prince Arthur Pendragon, first knight of Camelot. I have been trained to kill since birth. I have no reason be nervous. I haven't lost a tournament since I was thirteen.
But you have lost before. A small voice taunts.
Most nobles do not enter their first tournament till after their fifteenth year. I was an exception to this.
Leon had taken over my training a few months after Merlin left. I had improved much under his guidance and was quickly becoming the skilled swordsman that is expected of a prince. Father's friend King Seth and his family were visiting at the time. Prince Kemp was over a year older than me and had been allowed to enter the tournament. King Seth had proudly stated even though his son was just a young man he was one of the best swordsmen he had ever seen and would win the tournament easily. Also that it was a shame that I was still just a boy and couldn't compete. The next morning I found out that I would be competing.
I had made it through the first day, but I had to fight Prince Kemp the first round of the second day. I held on for three minutes till I found myself lying on my back with a sword to my throat. Prince Kemp didn't win the tournament. He lost the next round. Even though he did not win King Seth was very pleased with his son. My father was not pleased with me. I will never forget the look of disappointment and disgust on my father's face.
After that I practiced even harder. I went to bed exhausted every night, my body bruised and sore. Leon gave me worried glances and tried to help me, but I was determined to make my father proud. A year later I was able to beat Prince Kemp easily and won the tournament. My father nodded his head at me to acknowledge my achievement. It wasn't much, but it was something.
But even though part of me wants my father's approval, that's not the problem. My people expect their future king to be the best. They deserve the best. If I lose I will be letting all of Camelot down.
"You nervous?" I had forgotten Merlin was here.
"I don't get nervous," I automatically reply.
He looks tired, as if he didn't get much sleep last night. I didn't give him that many chores did I? We had trained for a while and after that I had assigned him to clean the stables, clean my armor, sharpen my swords, do my laundry and mend the hole in my shirt…. Okay I might have over done it. It's not like he could magically do it. Well he can, but that would be very stupid of him. Surely not, even he isn't that big of an idiot
"Really? I thought everyone got nervous," Merlin insists.
I really want to tell him to shut up but I bite my tongue.
"I'm not everyone am I?"
"No, not everyone is a prat." Merlin banters.
I fight down a smile, "Is that the only insult you know?"
"No, but it describes you so well. That and dollop head."
"Idiot."
"Cabbage head."
"Buffoon."
"Dolt."
"Birdbrain."
Merlin is smiling like an idiot and I am sure I have a similar smile on my own face. Merlin ties my cape and hands me my helmet.
"Great, yeah I think you're all set."
I raise my eyebrow, "Aren't you forgetting something?"
Merlin has a blank look on his face.
"My sword?"
Merlin's eyes widen. "Oh yeah. Yeah, sorry. Guess, uh, you'll be needing that."
I roll my eyes and head towards the arena. Merlin might be a powerful sorcerer, but he is definitely an idiot.