Chapter 14
Link
Today was the day! Weeks of gruelling, painful work… all so he could make a fool of himself before hordes of noble idiots in the ring.
Link had hardly slept, he felt jittery and his stomach was doing very uncomfortable things. Experiencing all this, he asked himself more than once why by Din's hellfire he had agreed to this nonsense.
Thankfully, behind all the superficial complaining and moaning, he had a very compelling reason to continue. He still meant to show her that he was not like a spoiled noble brat. His determination, however, had gotten distinctively sweeter.
They were all being driven in two large open carts towards the arena, so the people along the street could applaud, cheer and throw flowers at them. Occasionally something else was thrown by rather overzealous young ladies, but Link was too preoccupied to pay it any mind.
At least the others look as queasy as I feel, he thought. Gors looked as impassive as always, but even he betrayed nervousness by occasionally cracking his finger joints. The other nobles covered their trembling hands by waving them around in grand gestures and blowing kisses to the girls. He had to think what Ricco would do in his shoes… either join them in wooing lasses, or place a quick, completely accidental shove that would send one of them tumbling over so he kissed the flagstones. There was comfort in that imagined scene.
Link stepped out into the blazing sunshine from the arena's gloomy underworks. Immediately he was hit with a wall of sound, coming from 50.000 cheering people. He couldn't suppress a wide grin and actually waved at the crowd in general. Right afterward he felt like a bit of a dimwit. Nobody was cheering for him. Nobody knew who he was… yet! A bit of the people's feverish excitement rubbed off though and he breathed a little more freely. He tried to find the king's gallery, which was not that easy between glaring light and dizzying masses of spectators.
When he finally found the stands for the nobility, he couldn't really discern anything. Ah well…
The 32 contestants were to stand in a line on the wooden platform jutting out of the sand. They remained in the sweltering heat for at least three minutes. The constant cheering seemed almost about to abate when suddenly, it erupted anew. Princess Zelda's golden head had just arrived on the dais and the crowd loved her. Although, Link reflected, fired-up as they were, they would love just about anyone right now. Still, he was in no position to judge them as he felt a pleasant warmth running down his back.
Link had, as nonchalantly as possible, asked what awaited the winner of their respective groups. Sir Russel had explained that back in his day he had received the honour of being asked to join the late king on the dais for a personal meeting. Naturally it hadn't been a very personable affair, but the king had commended him publicly, which had most certainly quickened his ascension to knighthood.
Apparently today only the princess was in attendance. Would she reward the winner similarly?
Link wasn't sure if knighthood was what he wanted. Then again, what better prospect could he hope for? And knights, during their training, were stationed in Hyrule city…
The princess, after her meet and greet in the royal terrace stepped towards the railing and looked down on all of them. Link could see her more clearly now, even though her hair seemed aglow with sunlight. As usual, she was in white, a slim silver bracelet around each arm and a fine silver circlet crowning her head. Goddess, she was a sight!
At the lifting of her hand the arena slowly silenced until there was little more than a tense murmur in the air.
"Combatants!" roared a huge male voice from beside her. It was the same herald Link had seen in Ord. He certainly had a powerful organ… no doubt even the furthest row still felt their ears ring.
"Her royal highness, princess Zelda, will preside over today's tournament, the 215th annual tourney of swordmastery, here in the city of Hyrule. The princess will honour you by drawing your lots, according which the battle order will be determined. As per tradition, the junior tourney will be held first. Her majesty asks each and everyone of you to be mindful of your status as paragon. Skill, honour and valour shall triumph in this square, as it has for generations! She trusts that you will hold yourself to chivalry as much as she does. May the three goddesses be witness to this display of strength, wisdom and courage that we hold in their honour."
Link was not quite convinced that everyone had the same standard of chivalry, but that wouldn't stop him. If all was over, no matter the outcome, he had sworn that he would leave having made the people of Ord proud. And he knew that that did not necessarily mean winning.
Win he would for himself.
On the stands Zelda was reaching into a ornate wooden box, held by a priestess of Nayru. She pulled out a little bronze card with one of their names on it. She handed it to the herald.
"The first name to be drawn is Qareena of Saqqara!" he bellowed. One of the Gerudo, naturally. Link was pleased that the knight had no patience with 'keeping suspense' with long pauses but just said the names outright.
The second name was drawn.
"She will fight Gors of house Gorridan!"
A lot of cheering happened once more. The crowd obviously had a favourite. He could see neither of the named two and didn't want to break ranks. He assumed he knew their expressions anyway. Burning determination met cold calm. Link was definitely looking forward to this duel.
Two out, fourteen to go.
Next the noble hylian girl would fight the Rito girl.
Then, two nobles Link couldn't care less about.
The fourth battle would be between Gerra, the lowborn girl he had fought, and Vodiss, the Zora. Link pitied her. She had no chance.
"Mika Mikasson!" the herald roared. He was the other boy of low birth. Link thought that he would have profited from waiting a year or two and entering the standard bracket.
"His opponent: Link Andrésson!"
Link groaned, disappointed. He would be the one to knock his peer out of the tournament, in the first round no less! He felt truly sorry for the lad. This was rotten luck.
After that, Link stopped listening closely. One of the Gerudo would fight the Rito boy, but that was as interesting as it got.
When they were all accounted for, they stepped back out of the square and towards a pavilion which provided shade and iced water. In the pavilion the advocates waited already. Sir Russel greeted him with a hearty pat on the back. "Watch closely, Link. Let's see if that Gerudo can't coax a few secrets out of our friend Gors."
The two first contestants were already called back into the square. By now, a priestess of each of the three goddesses was seated around the square in a triangle formation. They were the judges, Link knew. They looked seriously out of place in their long flowing robes of crimson, sky-blue and emerald green.
In the centre of the square stood Sir Alistair, his face as sour as always. Link felt relieved. He trusted that old Lynel to be unbendingly fair.
He saw the blademaster rasp something to the two competitors, which they acknowledged with a nod. It probably had been a promise of a nasty death if they didn't behave… at least between the lines.
They shook hands, retreated to their respective corners and assumed a fighting stance. Sir Alistair looked at them briefly, brought his hands together and growled:
"BEGIN!"
Qareena immediately jumped forward and rained heavy vertical and horizontal blows on her opponent. Gors, at first, seemed taken aback by the aggressive, bordering on careless offence. He was driven back two steps, then found his balance. Qareena, her onslaught a failure, tried to quickly retreat but it was too late. Gors exploited her wide attacks and found an opening. He jabbed her in the ribs and all three judges raised their hands, signalling they had seen a clean hit.
The crowd rose in a thundering cheer.
Zero to one!
Link knew immediately that the Gerudo had no chance unless Gors had a sudden stroke. The difference in skill was apparent. What made Link uncomfortable was that one of his perceived advantages had just vanished. He had hoped the taller, heavier lad would be outclassed when it came to speed. Now he was not at all sure… he was fast!
The duellists had reset their positions and the battle began anew. Qareena had suddenly become a lot more careful. She was circling him like a predator her pray. Only that in this case the pray was far more deadly than expected.
Once again she pounced, adopting a tactic of faster, smaller movements, as her violent swings hadn't been able to break his defence. Gors deflected one, two, three quick blows, then parried the fourth so her blade was slapped aside and he had free reign. His second jab hit her on the same spot before she could jump away. Two attacks, two hits. Link could see her wince but she was too proud to openly rub the spot that had been abused twice. His face was still a mask of apathy… or concentration, Link couldn't tell.
The third bout didn't go much better for her. She made the mistake of trying to perform hard acrobatic attacks, hoping to surprise her opponent. He deflected them patiently, one after the other. When Qareena was showing signs of slowing her barrage of strenuous slashes, he went in close and jabbed her in the back mid-twirl. Then she did something stupid. Instead of aborting her attack, she followed through, finishing her wide swing. Gors blocked, barely, surprise on his face. It wasn't graceful, he took the full brunt of her slash on his sword and it nearly broke his grip.
From the stands came a roar of outrage. Link wasn't sure if he had seen her foul coming, were he in the bigger lad's position, but from here he had, even though it had been unexpected. Maybe he was still in the game…
Sir Alistair immediately stepped between them, grating something at the girl, who now seemed to realize her foolishness. Gors actually seemed to try to placate the blademaster, Link wasn't sure over the cries of indignation from the people.
In the end, as it had been over anyway, the Gerudo didn't even get a reprimand and Gors was pronounced the winner.
Link joined in a subdued applause from the fighters' pavilion. He looked up at the princess. She too was clapping mildly and smiling. He felt a tiny sting of disappointment, for which he chided himself almost immediately. Idiot, what did you expect, that she'd only clap for you?
He decided it would be best not to look at the royal terrace again, keep any female distraction out of his mind. That might actually be the hardest part of today's exercises, he thought dryly.
The next three fights were a bit of a blur. He watched them, he learned from them what he could, but they weren't as interesting as the first battle, even if the people made frequent 'ooh's and 'aah's. While the fight between the Gerudo and the big lad had been one-sided, he had still seen an important glimpse in the young noble's style. Stable stance with little movement, heavy reliance on deflecting over evading and a definite preference on defensive tactics. Link would either have to weasel his way through his defence, or attempt a parry and riposte strategy as well. Both tactics he was pretty good at. On the other hand, Gors had shown an iron patience while defending masterfully. Link would have to be extra careful not to get impatient and hot-headed or he would make mistakes. A tactic he wasn't quite as good at…
Link was so lost in thought, that he nearly missed it when his name was called. Sir Russel had to poke him in the ribs to get him moving. Suddenly his nerves were back. This was it! His first battle in the tourney. He swallowed. Everything seemed wrong, somehow. Were those really his feet that dragged him over the sand? They felt so impossibly clumsy!
Dear goddess, what would he do if he dropped his blade? He would die of shame, certainly! What if he just suddenly couldn't react properly any more and this other boy, Mika just trounced him? Farore's mercy, what had he been thinking when he agreed to this?!
He and Mika walked purposefully onto the square. Link barely heard what Sir Alistair rasped to them. He just clung to his sword as if he held on to dear life. Mika extended his hand and Link, after a moment of surprise grabbed his forearm. The crowd gave a pleased murmur.
"Don't hold back. Fight me seriously, that is all I ask." Mika whispered, his gaze intense. Something in the boy's serious, almost pleading words broke through Link's veil of near-panic. This guy knew that he'd lose. He fought anyway. That took bravery. And here he was, worrying that he might slightly embarrass himself. Link set his jaw and tried to fight his nerves.
They got into position. Link made a couple of experimental swings. Everything seemed in order, so he calmed a little further.
He looked into his adversary's frightened, yet determined eyes. Sir Alistair gave the word and everything fell back into place. The crowd was nothing, the heat was nothing, the other fighters were nothing. The only thing real was his opponent.
The boy stepped closer and made a nervous first attack towards Link's head. He stepped away, calmly. There was no rush! Everything moved as if through honey. Link measuredly deflected the next sluggish incoming blow to the side, changed direction and drew his steel carefully across his opponent's chest.
Time seemed to breathe once more, but Link held on to this concentrated state. He could see Mika hold his chest and twist his face. He worried for a moment. He had barely even caressed the boy with his blade… that it would have such an impact? He would have to be most careful. The last thing he wanted was to injure anyone. On top of that, needlessly brutal hits could be classified as foul…
Thankfully Mika seemed to recover. He breathed a couple of times then nodded to the referee. Link lowered his sword and walked up to his rival with outstretched hand. Sir Alistair was about to go between, but then understood the harmless gesture. Mika took Link's hand once more and accepted the apology for an attack that had been out of control. It still counted though.
Link's apology had put a dent in his concentration, but it still held. Once the two were back into position he was once again one with his sword. The marked dilation of time from before however was missing.
This time Link went into the offensive, dealt a couple of high jabs without neglecting his defence. He dodged a high swing and brought his blade calmly but firmly against Mika's neck. All three judges raised their hand.
The third bout started with the lad trying to go low. Link jumped over the attempted sweep and brought his sword down, a little slower than he could have. Mika caught it and deflected it just in time. He attempted a high counter attack which Link sidestepped. Now he was back on offence, driving his opponent back with quick jabs, high and low, until one, inevitably, got through: A clean hit on Mika's shoulder.
Zero to three and Link had won. The crowd cheered loudly.
He felt exhilarated, but couldn't fully enjoy his victory over his peer. Still, the farm boy once again offered his hand, which Link took. "Thank you. And now you better win, damn you!" he grinned. Link grinned back and nodded.
He couldn't resist and took a long look at the princess. She was still applauding and he could have sworn her soft smile got a tiny bit wider when their eyes met.
"They like you, boy." Sir Russel grunted.
"Huh?" was Link's highly intelligent reply.
"The crowd, boy. They got a liking for you. That was a fine gesture you made to that boy. That first hit was so bloody fast, I could hardly see it!" he grumbled.
"I didn't do it for the crowd! I thought I hurt him!" Link said indignantly.
"I know, lad, I know. And so do they and they love you for it. Didn't hurt that you got a perfect score, either." The old knight chuckled.
"You gave them a bit of a show with the last bout. Don't try that with the others, they'll punish you for it."
"I know. I just didn't want Mika to feel quite so bad." Link mumbled.
The old bear sighed. "Goddess Nayru, if only you could send this boy as much wisdom as Farore sends compassion."
Link knew that to be a compliment from his master and accepted it gladly.
The next fight, Kushira of the Gerudo against Kalido of the Rito ended in favour of the feathered warrior. So, Link would fight him in the next round. He had watched both carefully during their fight. He was a thinker. He liked to strategize and come up with a plan. And more often than not his plans had worked against her.
The third Gerudo won her first battle and after her some noble Link cared nothing about.
The quarterfinals started with a fight between Gors and the Rito girl. Her fluttering was as useless as attacking a brick wall with a feather. The young noble kept the same tactics in this fight as well. Link was certain that he held back quite a bit…
The Zora annihilated his Hylian opponent. The highborn had no chance against the quick stabs and thrusts. Link hoped that the scaly contestant could bring Gors out of his shell a little bit in the semi-finals.
Then, his second fight had already come. Link was nervous, but nowhere near as bad as before. He now had the confidence that both his body's reflexes and his mind's concentration were a formidable opponent.
He noticed that when he stepped onto the square, the crowd started to cheer a bit louder. Seemed that his teacher had been right. But this was not why he was here.
As usual Sir Alistair spoke a few words. To Link he wheezed that he didn't want to see a heavy hit like that again, to which Link nodded solemnly.
Then he meant to once again greet his opponent. He had taken note of the Rito's greeting. He bent his right arm in front of his stomach and bowed while always looking into his opposite's eyes. Kalido seemed bemused at first, then blew air out of his beak and turned around rudely. The crowd accompanied this with a hushed "ooohoohoo…"
Link walked to his spot, unimpressed. He would not let such a cheap slight ruin his calm. They both assumed fighting stances and the battle started. Link immediately darted forward and made the Rito recoil. He planned not to let the feathered one think in peace for a second. He feigned a low slash, then ripped his blade upwards. Kalido narrowly blocked the hit, but took its full force. Link, without letting his motion be stopped, let his sword hand relax, leaving his steel to find its way around the Rito's resistance and stepped forward under his wing, drawing his steel cleanly across feathery ribs. The winged boy looked at Link completely flabbergasted. Link gave him a deliberately blank look. He noticed that only two of the judges had raised their hands. Had the third one just taken a nap, he thought with a raised eyebrow. Sir Alistair however had seen the manoeuvre clearly and decided to cast his vote in his favour, which was met with jubilations from the people.
Link continued his tactics for the second bout, this time not feinting but with an actual low sweep that the Rito jumped so hastily that he had little control over his sword. So the young Ordian could neatly continue his attack and sent his opponent tumbling to the ground, which meant another point.
For the third part of their battle, Link changed tactics completely. He just stood there, watching. The feathered warrior, now completely thrown off, attacked without having thought of an intricate plan. Link defended two quick jabs, which were followed up by an elegant high slash. Graceful it might have been, but also slow. He sidestepped Kalido's attack and unleashed a barrage of quick thrusts on his unprotected side. The Rito managed to deflect two but had no time to think of a counterattack before the third connected against his thorax.
Once again, a perfect score.
But before Link was pronounced the winner by Sir Alistair he once again bowed in the way of the Rito. The proud young warrior huffed and for a second it looked as if he would turn away once again. But then he, grudgingly, bowed as well. And the crowd exulted.
The semi-finals… Only two more fights and he had won! Link couldn't stop grinning at the prospect.
"Keep that idiot grin for when you've actually won, boy." His mentor growled.
Good old Sir Russel, he knew how to keep a man's spirits high!
His next opponent would unsurprisingly be the third Gerudo. She was a whole lot more careful than her peer had been. But once again, she relied mostly on wide, arching slashes and that could be exploited.
Right now Link was more interested in Gors' fight against the Zora, Vodiss. He fell back into full concentration so no little step, no tiny movement would go past him. As he had hoped, the Zora's impressive offensive capabilities were enough to distress the noble's defence. For the first time, Gors had to move to keep his deflections from hitting him. Link saw that he wasn't the fastest when it came to dodging. Still, it was enough. Vodiss was able to land a beautiful hit, true, but ultimately the hylian's defence combined with perfect ripostes was enough. Gors was the first finalist.
That left only the matter between him and Mantiqa, the last of the three Gerudo.
He was sure that he was better, but something was worrying him. He sensed a certain deviousness in that one.
The Gerudo fighters greeted others with a simple bow, so Link did the same. She bowed low, lower than would have been necessary, and then she winked at him. Link raised an eyebrow but didn't think any further of it. At least until she blew him a tiny kiss when they were in their corners…
Link was somewhere between amused and irritated. Was that girl being serious? Did she actually think her feminine charms would have an impact? He only stared at her, his expression deliberately icy.
As soon as the battle started she did an almost dance-like motion, waving from left to right, twisting her hips around and letting her sword do complicated movements in the air. Link had never seen her do that in any other battle. Was she out of her mind? All of a sudden, she attacked with a wide slash from the lower right. He only barely escaped unscathed using a risky deflect and countering immediately so she would give him some space. Once they had separated again, the girl promptly started her weird dance again.
Realization dawned on Link: This was an outlandish sort of battle stance. She moved her hips independently from her shoulders, which moved independently from her arms. From the quick glances he allowed himself he could find no logically conjoined motion. That had to take an immense amount of practice. And the benefit was clear: a completely unpredictable attacking position.
Link was intrigued. This was something completely new. For a fraction of a second he was shudderingly thankful that Sir Russel hadn't tried to replicate this complex motion, but then his concentration took over again. Let's see how it fared as defensive stance.
He darted forward and jabbed at her waving shoulder. She immediately attacked as well, quick as a snake, hitting his groin. Only a hip twist, born purely from self-preservation, prevented an injury in a very personal region.
Link had no doubt that that was precisely where that minx had aimed. But the lost point had been worth it. He now knew exactly what she was about. That stance could only attack. Any defence was completely neglected. You had to attack quicker than your enemy, so only you would get the point. This seemed to be purely for duelling, at least the way she demonstrated it.
The second bout started just the same. She assumed her dance. Link smiled a little grim smile. The part that just hadn't been hit was rather angry. Let's give her a taste of real speed.
He stepped close, almost nonchalantly, and whacked at her dancing sword, just above her grip. It flew away in a high arc and stuck in the sand a few metres off. Then he gently tapped her on her shocked little head and returned to his corner. The crowd erupted in a slightly confused but delighted wave.
Mantiqa looked at her hands, then at her sword. Not only had she not expected him to target her blade instead of her, but with a speed that simply was beyond hers? Her sword had been a perfect target and for her unpredictable wriggle to work, it was logical that she must lack stability, both in standing and in gripping.
The rest of the fight was just show. It was already decided after Link's hit, as the Gerudo had seemingly lost most of her fighting spirit.
Link was in the finals! He was having a hard time maintaining his focus as that dumb grin tried to creep back on his face. But he wanted to remain in that perfect equilibrium where all emotion was subdued and only rationality and movement counted.
He was granted a ten minute break, even though he had hardly exerted himself during the last battle. He had a distinct feeling that that would change. Gors relied on being defensive, even passive at times. He expended as little energy as possible except for his high-speed precision strikes.
Link had opted for another strategy. He had shown his co-finalist a different strategy in every match, but never with all his might.
Sir Russel had one final thing to say to him: "Watch out for one thing. He has never been aggressive. He is one and a half times your weight. If he chooses to go on the offensive, you better be ready."
Link had understood and the old knight was right. Nothing would be more surprising than to see this passive boy suddenly attack like a berserker. If he could use this astonishment, the young noble had an almost guaranteed point.
The time had finally come. He and Gors stood in the square, face to face. Sir Alistair rasped his customary warnings, but neither of them was listening. They clasped hands and nodded at each other silently. This was a battle of wits just as much as brawn. And they were the best and they knew it. The only thing to do now, really, was to see who was just that tiny bit superior.
The battle started and immediately nothing happened. Gors took his usual passive stance and Link remained at his corner, thinking. It had just occurred to him that he was missing one crucial detail. Something that none of the bigger lad's opponents had done… but what was it?
Link slowly crept closer, like a tiger sneaking up on a larger prey. He offered a few half-hearted jabs which Gors parried easily. A few more, stabs, a little faster! Gors swatted them out of the air.
This wasn't going to work. What was that niggling thought in the back of his head? What had nobody tried yet?
Gors surprised him by stepping forward and performing a trio of jabs. Link reacted purely out of instinct in stepping back and deflecting them.
Damn, that boy was quick for his size! Nobody would see that coming.
Link decided to try his luck in all out fencing. He attempted to break his rival's guard by swatting it away and stab immediately afterward. He hit Gors' blade but he brought it back quickly, stepped to the side and slashed at Link's face. He had to abort the stab to deflect. Din's fire, there was a lot of impact behind the big guy's hits. He quickly turned his body to the side so he could let most of the momentum just pass him by and jab high himself. Gors ducked and attempted to change the direction of his sword to hit Link's hip. Link had seen this coming though and brought his own blade back to block his entire side. He stepped under the bigger boy's arm yanked his blade upwards and it connected with his armpit. Hit!
Link finally exhaled. All that had been what? Two seconds? And it nearly hadn't worked! He had been forced to use all the speed of his arms to keep up with him. Thankfully his legs had made the difference. They had by accident found what Link's brain could not: distance! None of the others had dared stepped close. Gors had the biggest range, so they all had skirted just outside, performing occasional forays into his threatened space, but never trying to go actually close in fear of being shredded. Link had to force the big guy to move! He could dance around him, but only up close. The problem was, Gors knew that! And now he wouldn't let him anywhere near him.
The second bout started similarly to the first. A brief period of mental probing, then a few timid attacks. Link decided to make another attempt. So far it had always worked, right?
He let his blade touch his rival's and made them scrape against each other as he quickly stepped closer. Gors stepped back and with a roar used his superior strength to simply push Link to the side. He nearly lifted him off the ground! Gors used his momentum to push him even further, forcing him into overbalance towards his back. The big fighter used that exact moment to simply yank his sword downwards, taking Link's blade with him and raking the smaller lad from clavicle to short ribs.
One to one.
Just as Sir Russel had warned, he had used his weight and Link still hadn't been able to stop it. Damn it all!
The third bout played quite differently. Gors stepped forward immediately and started attacking with quick, safe jabs and spiced them with occasional mighty swings that seemed to take Link by surprise every time. He was forced to assume a purely defensive tactic under the dreadfully fast attacks. Link realized he was making a mistake. He should step into his range, not away where he couldn't do anything but defend. But he had no opening, no way of turning the tides. Eventually Gors broke through. Link caught a bad angle and one of the heavy swings flung his guard away so he was wide open. The bigger guy only had to lightly tap him in the chest.
Two to one! One more hit and he would be out!
A very primal part of him was just about ready to panic but Link wouldn't let it. This was a game of wits. He had had that moment of pure concentration when fighting Mika, but that had happened only once. He couldn't rely on that. He would have to stop merely reacting and see the battle before him. Like he had done with that bastard Halvor!
The fourth round Gors was once again passive, but Link hardly dared coming closer. When he finally did, the big guy once again unleashed a flurry of jabs. High, middle, low, from all directions. Link was keeping up, barely, but, just like before, his defence could fail any second.
He hated doing what he was about to do but if all else fails, go risky!
He neglected his defence and jabbed while sidestepping. Gors counterattack came so close to his face he thought he might have touched his eyebrow! But it did give him a moment to jump into range. The bigger boy again relied on his strength to drive him away and stepped forward, trying to catch his sword. This time though, Link let himself drop and rolled to the right side and around him. When he was back right side up he slashed at his opponent's knee pit.
Two to two. That had been an extremely dumb move, which was probably why it had worked. It wouldn't a second time.
The fifth bout looked like it would start like the third. Gors was on the offence and it didn't seem like anything could stop him.
Then Link had an epiphany. He couldn't stop him. He was too big, too strong, too heavy. But he didn't have to stop him. Why should he labour to block and parry when he was small and lithe and there was so much space around that wasn't him! Don't try to deflect to change the direction of incoming blows, like a rock. Gors was twice the rock he was! Instead keep light contact but be like water! Don't stop him but flow out of the way and around him.
He let his blade connect with Gors' and kept it there, just to feel the movement. He could feel every movement long before it reached him. He stepped to this side and that, never remaining where he was for long and always maintaining contact. Gors' jabs and heavy hits connected with nothing as Link felt the attacks coming much better than when he had only relied on his eyes. He redirected Gors' sword just enough that he had enough time to flow away or he sometimes simply let it carry him until its momentum was spent. And the big guy never dared pull his sword away too brazenly because it would leave him open to Link's omnipresent blade.
Weave offence into defence, just as Sir Russel had always said. He would have had many openings by now, but he wanted to experience this new fighting style. It was almost as if he had gained another sense. Gors, unable to cope, tried to lunge forward, right at him. Link merely flowed away, followed his adversary's arm with his blade and came to rest at his throat.
A few seconds passed.
Then the crowd exploded.
Link made sure that the hit had actually counted for the judges, then removed his blade and stood in front of his biggest rival, feeling rather numb.
"You beat me! Fair and square!" he said in his high pitched voice, an approving smile forming on his face. Link felt a similar grin break out over his face as the realization dawned on him that he'd actually won. Sir Alistair presented him with a grim smile, grabbed his arm and yanked it upwards.
Link looked at Gors, his face now flowing with tears and Link felt his own forming in his eyes until he couldn't see any more.
He looked around at the people of Hyrule city, having stood up and waving their arms in one huge exulted frenzy.
He looked at Sir Russel who nodded with a proud smile of his own while applauding.
Finally, he looked at princess Zelda. She too had risen and was clapping vigorously. He could see her perfect white teeth accentuate her broad grin. Link felt like he might burst. He wiped away the wet from his eyes, walked over to his rival and offered his hand. Gors took it without hesitation.
After a couple of minute of standing in the middle of the square, basking in the crowds cheers, the herald arrived at the square, congratulated Link on his victory and told him that his presence has been requested.
Link was sweaty and teary eyed and he didn't care a bit. He just had to make sure that he didn't do anything titanically stupid while riding on this wave of ecstasy. Like kissing the princess in front of everybody…
He followed Sir Craster towards the foot of the royal balcony and entered through a door guarded by four royal guardsmen. He ascended the stairs and found himself in a lavishly decorated balcony, full with little tables brimming with foodstuffs and drinks. While Link was hungry enough to devour a bear, he currently had no time for eating. There she stood, beautiful as the first sunray on a clear morning. How her porcelain skin moved when she smiled, how the wind played with her golden hair, how she moved with a grace that seemed unreal…
Perfection. This was, truly, the perfect moment.
Led by the herald he moved to the front of the dais. Another wave of jubilation greeted him and he had to smile like an idiot. Zelda hid a tiny giggle with her hand in front of her mouth.
Then she looked at him squarely and her crystal clear voice resounded in her ears.
"Link Andrésson, winner of the junior tourney of swordmastery."
The crowd had gone quiet once more.
"I wish to express my gratitude for such a wonderful display of skill and chivalry. As per custom, a member of the royal family may directly appoint someone of worthy skill and character as candidate for knighthood. After your display today, I can think of no one who would be more fit for the noble life of a knight of Hyrule.
So I ask you, Link Andrésson, would you accept this honour and duty to king, country and me?"
Link could hardly believe his ears. Princess Zelda had just given him the opportunity, the privilege, to be tested as knight! She wanted him to stay!
He opened his mouth to say 'Yes, with all my heart.' when he was interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream, which was suddenly stopped just as quickly as it had come.
Both he and Zelda stared at the crowd with wide eyes.
Then the screaming started