The arena was still a muddy mess the next morning when the royal family took their seats in the box, but at least the rain had stopped and the sun was shining. The announcer called for the contestants and Ferid stepped into the arena. He had pulled his shaggy brown hair back into a sort-of top knot. With his hair pulled back, Arshtat could see the small pearl that he wore in his ear. She smiled as she rubbed her fingers over her own traded earring.
Sialeeds watched his entrance into the arena through a pair of spyglasses. Observing him up close through the glasses, she commented to her sister about her choice in a champion.
"Oh man, he is really cute, Sissy. And those arms are so… defined."
"Yeah." Arshtat replied dreamily.
The announcer then called out Ferid's challenger. Surprised filled his voice when instead of the champion hired by his family, Laren Godwin himself stepped into the ring. Having learned of the Princess's covert support for the foreigner, he decide to show her that he too was brave enough to fight for her himself. He felt it would be the only way to win not just her hand, but also her heart.
"Holy crap, It's Laren." Sialeeds' voice and posture reflected her amazement that the snobbish Godwin candidate would commit himself to such an act. She swung her view with the spyglasses to the Godwin family box, where she could see Marscal Godwin was none too pleased with his nephew's actions.
As Ferid approached the Godwin candidate, he notices the anger in the other's eyes. Their entire meeting was electrified by that anger.
"Only one of us will leave here alive, foreigner." Laren spat as he took Ferid's hand in the customary greeting before the match. "I will win the Princess or die trying." He squeezed Ferid's hand as hard as he could in an effort to intimidate him.
"I don't want to kill you." Ferid answered, returning the extra firm grip. But I will if I have to.
The fighters returned to the sides of the ring and the flags dropped. Laren ran toward Ferid through the thick mud at full tilt, his arms flailing and roaring angrily. Ferid, seeing the other's approach, dug in and held firm at his position. His head flung backwards as Laren's fist connected with his mouth. He tasted the acrid coppery taste of blood in his mouth.
This guy really means to kill me.
Shifting his body, Ferid moved from a defensive stance into an offensive position. He slid his shoulder underneath the other man's next swing and rammed hard into his chest, knocking him to the ground. The pair struggled for a moment with Laren trying to pin Ferid, who was maintaining his dominant position. Wriggling one of his arms free, Laren threw a random punch, hitting Ferid in the eye. Ferid could feel a sting and swelling as the nobleman's fist connected. The sharp corner of a family signet ring sliced through the tender skin. Ferid fell back to a defensive posture once more. Laren, free of his captor, clawed his way back to his feet through the mud. Ferid gingerly touched the side of his left eye to assess the damage. His fingers came away wet with blood.
Wait for your chance, Ferid. Keep him on the offensive until he falters.
Laren, driven by anger and now bloodlust, felt confident of his success after drawing blood twice on the foreign combatant. He was ready to end this charade and win his prize and the power that came with being the consort of the future queen. He pulled a dagger from his boot and ran with it toward Ferid.
Mistake… big mistake.
Ferid sank deeper into his defensive stance and readied himself for the attack. As the blade approached his chest, he shifted his stance to deflect the blow. The dagger missed his chest and his heart, but Laren drove it deep into the joint of Ferid's left shoulder. Ferid let loose a guttural yell of pain as the blade tore through his muscle and hit bone. Laren, laughing, pulled the blade from its newfound sheath and readied another strike. Ferid, glaring through the pain, disarmed him with his right hand and drove the blade deep into Laren's neck, where it met the shoulder. Laren looked at him in the shocking realization that he had been hit as he collapsed to the ground. The dagger, still in Ferid's iron grip, was covered in red blood dripping it on the ground as the fallen Godwin fell into the mud with a soft splat. The dark brown arena floor turned ruddy with the spreading of Laren Godwin's blood through the mud. Ferid had severed a main artery and small squirts of blood erupted from the fallen man's neck. Ferid kneeled down next to him.
"I did not what to kill you, but you left me no choice. If you come into combat you must be prepared to die. I know you were ready to kill for your shot at power, but were you ready to die for it? I know that I was ready to die for her."
"I was such a fool. The better man indeed won this contest." Laren said to his opponent before closing his eyes for the last time.
Ferid tried to stand but felt dizzy and collapsed into the mud next to Laren's now lifeless body.
Arshtat…
"Ferid!" Arshtat's voice was panicked as she saw him collapse on the field. Without care for protocol or what rumors may be circulated later, she ran out of the royal box as fast as her feet and heavy clothing would carry her. She sprinted through the hallways, her mind focused only on being at his side. She vaguely registered the calls for doctors and healers as she ran through the barracks and into the arena. Galleon ran after her and helped her up as she tripped through the mud. She knelt down next to him and pulled his head into her lap. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled a weak smile up at her.
"Hello princess." He said softly.
Galleon called for a doctor once more and then, seeing the pooling, squirting blood coming from the wound, instructed Arshtat to press her hands as hard against the wound in Ferid's shoulder as she could. She was completely oblivious to the mud and blood now covering her.
"Don't leave me." Her voice cracked as she spoke.
"I'll be fine… It's just a scratch." His voice was slurring as he spoke. The doctors finally appeared next to her and gently pushed her out of the way as they bandaged up the wound temporarily. The bleeding had to be stopped before Ferid could be moved for further treatment. One of the doctors looked over Laren Godwin for any signs of life before pronouncing him dead. Blood was quickly soaking through the bandages, but in a few moments its flow had slowed significantly. Ferid was moved from the arena into the infirmary. One of the doctors called for a healer with a water rune as they carried him into the building.
Arshtat clung to Galleon as she watched them carry him off. Silent tears fell steadily from her eyes.
"Will they save him?" she looked at the older knight expectantly.
"I hope so." He replied as he began guiding back inside, following the doctors and patient.
Arshtat sat anxiously in the room outside where the doctors were patching up her future consort. She chewed the skin at the edge of her thumbnail nervously. Sialeeds sat with her, holding her other hand in an attempt to comfort the elder princess. Haswar, her cousin, had made the trip to Stormfist that morning for the Games final combat. She sat on Arshtat's other side, rubbing her shoulders in an effort to comfort her. Falzrahm and Kauss talked quietly on the other side of the room with Queen Shahrewar about the days events. Galleon, whose knowledge of medicinal practices had proved an asset to the doctors, stepped out of the small room. Blood covered his hands as he took Arshtat's hand and led her to see her champion.
"He'll be fine, Your Highness. He's been asking for you through the whole procedure." He said quietly to her as they stepped into the room.
Arshtat walked slowly to the bed where her love—yes, she thought, I do love him—was lying, eyes closed. Fresh white bandages covered his shoulder and held his arm close to his body. His eye was puffy and purple and swollen shut. His bottom lip had been split and was scabby and swollen as well. She saw several other purple bruises on his arms and chest. She slid her hand over his and saw his non-swollen eye slide open at the touch.
"I said it was just a scratch." He said hoarsely.
A smile spread over her face as two final tears slid down her cheeks. She leaned over and kissed him softly.
"I'm sorry, Arshtat."
"About what? You won, so you're going to stay with me."
"Yes, but I told you just one more day. I think it will be a little longer than that." She shook her head, blood stained silver strands fell across her face.
"I'll wait for you." She chuckled. He drifted off to sleep smiling.
The End (of this part at least)
