The Tournament Option B: Fencing
Welcome to the fencing ring! Readers have chosen to try their hand at the tournaments by fencing their way to the top. Shall we see if it works?!
The Tournament Option B.Fencing
The rain subsided with the morning sun and now you’re standing in line to register for the tournaments with the sun warming your shoulders. It burned off the mist within an hour and your cloak’s almost dry as you approach the table at the entrance to the coliseum.
The man behind the table holds his pen over a sheet of paper. He waits for you to say which challenge you want to participate in.
“Fencing,” you inform him.
He grunts and accepts the papers you hold out containing your information. They tell him everything from your name to where you were born and to which family.
“Isn’t this a baking family?” he asks, pointing at your last name.
“Mostly,” you reply, perhaps a bit shortly but you’ve been questioned like that your whole life.
He eyes you and your weaponry and then shrugs and hands your papers back.
“The fencing field’s to the left past the archery section,” he says, “first tournament starts in an hour.”
You thank him and move on.
The coliseum’s huge, made to support gaming events and trials but today, instead of hosting a single event, the ground is split into five wedges like a pie. Spectators mill around the seating above, able to see all five areas.
On the ground, however, you can only see the wedge you’re standing in and the two neighboring wedges.
Archery is immediately to your left and beyond it you can see the fencing square. To your immediate right sits the hand-to-hand combat arena and you guess jousting is on the other side of the coliseum because you can make out the heads of several horses in that direction.
The fifth wedge you can’t guess at. All you can see in that area is a crowd milling about.
You pass through the archery wedge and make your way to the table in the fencing wedge. You hold out your papers to the man standing behind it. He grabs them from your hand and holds them directly in front of his watery eyes.
He snorts. “Baker. They’ll let anyone in these days.” He tosses the stack of papers onto his table and points to the outline for the fencing square. “Stand in line. Your turn’ll come soon.”
His attitude rubs you wrong but you hold your tongue. People always comment on your family heritage. You’ve found the only way to silence such ridiculous assumptions is to show them you’re capable. No verbal argument seems to work.
You move to stand in line beside a man twice your height. His shoulders are broad enough to shoulder a wagon.
He glances over at you and raises a brow.
“Speed?” he guesses.
“Perhaps,” you kind of admit. “Power?” you gesture at the broadsword he’s carrying.
A toothy grin splits his face. “Perhaps.”
You grin back as you set the rest of your weaponry against the side of the fencing ring. You won’t be needing the bow and arrows and they might get in your way.
“First contestant,” shouts a man standing at the opposite side of the square. “Obstacle or Multiple?”
“What’s that mean?” asks the huge man.
You shrug. “Guess we’ll see.”
The first man in line shuffles from one foot to the other, then blurts out, “Multiple.”
The announcer gestures him into the ring, then he gestures at the big man beside you, at you and then the woman behind you.
“Multiple contestants it is!” the announcer shouts as you all move into the ring as well.
It’s not a lot of space for four people swinging swords.
“You must overcome two of the three others in the ring,” the announcer explains. “If you step out of the ring, you’re done. If you strike with anything but your sword, you’re done. Good luck, Contestants.”
You get a sinking feeling in your stomach. Before, they’ve always blunted the swords. There’s no attempt at this tournament to do so and the rules stated nothing about not killing. This could turn ugly really fast.
“Work with me?” the big man asks out of the side of his mouth.
You know nothing about him. He could turn on you without warning. On the other hand, someone watching your back could be a huge asset.
Do you…
Bb. Work with Him?
or
Bc. Go It Alone?
Blessings and see you Tuesday,
Jennifer
