Chapter Two Hundred and Eighty-Nine - Say Hello to My Little Friends

“Who are your friends?” Amaryllis asked. She was eyeing the three new figures a step behind Francisco and his two buddies.

The human walked with a bit of a hunch, hands in his pockets. The sylph to his left had his head up high, as if daring anyone to look down on him, and the other sylph was glancing all over the place, as if he was expecting something to jump out from the shadows at any moment.

“Hello, lady Amaryllis,” Francisco said with dripping meanness in his tone. “It seems that you really have forgotten every last aspect of decorum and behaviour. Did no one ever teach you to greet people when you meet them?”

“People, yes,” Amaryllis. “So will you answer the question?”

The harpy’s face reddened at the cheeks and his feathers puffed out, just a little, before he gathered himself. “These three new friends of mine are some very kind fellows I met at a tavern. They heard of my plight, having to fight someone of your repute, and bravely decided to step up so that I might avoid soiling my feathers in your presence.”

“You mean to say that you were too cowardly to fight me and my friends head on, so you hired three mercenaries to fight in your place?” Amaryllis asked.

I glanced back at Caprica and Augustus. “Can he do that?” I whispered.

Augustus Spood bowed his head. “If the gentleman, ah, wishes to have someone fight in his stead, then he can elect someone to do so. It isn’t entirely uncommon. It’s more often than not used by a lady of the court who doesn’t have skills as a fighter. She might employ a champion to fight in her stead. On occasion an older noble, past their prime, might also elect a champion. Usually these would be a member of their family, but there are no laws against merely hiring an outsider.”

“But a young fighter designating a champion in their stead is seen as cowardice,” Caprica said. “Or at least as very distasteful.”

Augustus stepped up, placing himself between Amaryllis and Francisco. “Greetings everyone,” he said with practiced geniality. “My name is Augustus, I’ll be the person in charge of today’s duel. Lord Hawk, from what I overheard, you will be having these three gentlemen fighting in your stead?”

“Yes, yes I will,” Francisco said. “What about you, Amaryllis, will you be fighting yourself? You always did like to brag and strut with your chest puffed out. Or maybe you’ll send someone else in? That little sylph girl behind you, maybe?” he chuckled, and his friends joined in.

I followed his gaze and saw that Gabrielle was blinking back at him, completely confused.

Augustus cleared his throat. He was still smiling, but there was a vein visible along the line of his neck. “Lord Hawk, I believe I speak for every sylph when I say that if you could avoid involving her royal highness in your affairs, it would be appreciated.”

“Ah,” Francisco said. I think he noticed all the guards nearby, many of whom were giving him looks and decided to backpedal. “A pleasure to meet you, your highness, please forgive my earlier impertinence. The presence of this barbarian brings out the worst in me.”

“Um,” Gabrielle hesitated before dropping into a quick, shallow curtsy. “It’s fine? I wasn’t really paying you much attention. I’m really just here to see my sister’s friends fight.”

“Your sister’s friends?” Francisco mused. “Ah, perhaps after our bout I will remain here to observe that fight.”

“But.. but that’s the fight you were supposed to be in?” Gabrielle asked.

I eyed Gabrielle. She sounded innocent. A bit too innocent.

“Right, big sister Caprica?” Gabrielle asked. She blinked at Caprica with big, wet eyes, and I could imagine her lower lip trembling even if it wasn’t.

Gabrielle was a very tricky little sister, it seemed.

“That’s right, Gabi,” Caprica said. “We’re here to watch Lady Amaryllis, Lady Bristlecone, and Captain Bunch put up a good fight.”

“On that note,” Augustus said. “Lady Amaryllis, did you intend to fight yourself?”

“We have some royal guardsmen here who I am certain would be honoured to be your champions,” Caprica added. “We even have a paladin or two. Some are in their fourth tier.”

Francisco was looking a bit pale.

“I appreciate the gesture,” Amaryllis said. “But I am no coward. I intend to win based on my own merits. As for my companions, they can decide for themselves. Besides, if we use the sylph military to win this battle, then anyone at the summit could turn around and accuse us of being supported directly by Sylphfree. It would discredit us.”

I glanced over to the three guys we’d have to fight.

Jacob Hayer, Bladesinger, level 15

That was the sylph who had been looking all over the place earlier. Now his attention was mostly split between staring at the back of Francisco’s head and the two princesses.

Malter Roggen, Frozen Batterer, level 14

That was the human. He was staring past everyone, looking like he was entirely bored with everything.

Next to him, the last of the sylph mercenaries looked pretty darned conflicted. I had the impression he just didn’t want to be there anymore, but he didn’t have a choice about it.

Flein Bocking, Hardened, level 16

All three were a few levels above my friends and I, and that was just what I could see from their primary classes. It was possible that all three had a second class that was at max level. I’d have to see if Amaryllis could tell me more about them.

I snapped my attention back on the conversation as Augustus called someone over from the sides, a young aide who moved over to the mercenaries and started to guide them away. Meanwhile, Augustus turned towards my friends and I. “Please, allow me to escort you to the preparation area.”

I waved Caprica and Gabrielle good-bye, the younger of the two giving us a quick wave in return as she called out, “Good luck!”

“Have any of you participated in this sort of duel before?” Augustus asked as we headed down a corridor, then through a side-door and down a flight of stairs. The decorations stopped at the door, and everything became a lot more functional and austere.

He glanced back and took in our shaking heads.

“Well then, let me explain the basics. In order to keep things somewhat fair the fights--all one-on-one competitions of prowess--will be chosen based on drawn lots. The fight will start when the arena glows red. The moment the arena glows red again, you must stop.”

“Glows red?” Awen asked.

He nodded. “You’ll understand when you see it. The referee will demonstrate in either case. There are enchantments that light up if anyone in their vicinity is gravely injured, knocked unconscious, or otherwise incapacitated. The referee should be treated as a god of their domain. What they say is sacrosanct and should not be defied.”

“Ah, alright,” I said. This was starting to sound pretty serious.

“The weapons you pick must be chosen from our armoury. These will be enchanted to make them non-lethal. That does not mean that they cannot cause harm, only that they will blunt any great impact, and will not pierce or cut into flesh the way a normal weapon would,” Augustus said.

The stairs ended, and we started down a long corridor that ended at a sharp angle. Augustus pointed to a door to our left before he opened it. He didn’t step in though. “This is the waiting room. You can see the arena through that glass there. There are barriers in place to prevent magics from harming the room, and the rest of the arena as well.”

“The weapons are all enchanted not to hurt people, right? What about magic?” I asked. I didn’t really have much in terms of offensive magic, but Awen had her glass magic, and Amaryllis had electricity and puppeteering and probably a few other magical tricks hidden away in her sleeves too.

Augustus sighed. “Unfortunately, stopping someone from using magic isn’t as simple as blunting a weapon. We ask that anyone fighting a duel keep in mind that there’s no honour in killing an opponent in this arena. If we see that a mage is going too far, there are enchantments in place that can disrupt the flow of mana. We leave those off until they are absolutely needed, though.”

“Alright,” I said.

Augustus nodded. “The referee will go over the rules again before the duel starts, don’t worry.”

“Thanks, Mister Augustus,” Awen said. “You’re very kind.”

“Merely doing my job, Lady Bristlecone,” he said. We continued down the corridor, around the bend, and stopped before a door that was closed. It had a small light bulb-like thing above it that was currently off. Reaching up, Augustus flicked a switch next to the door and the light started to glow a magical blueish hue. “And this is the armoury. Take whatever you need. There are pieces of armour at the back as well. I will be waiting out here for your return.”

“Thanks,” I said.

The room was well lit, a few hanging lanterns casting an orange-yellow glow across rows of racks and shelves laden with hundreds of weapons. The next room over, past an archway in the room we were in, had armour on dummies and on more shelves. Enough to equip three dozen warriors and then some.

“Whoa,” I said as I reached over and picked up a sword larger than I was. Or I tried to. It was way, way too heavy.

At least the edges on it weren’t sharpened. I couldn’t imagine that helping too much if someone took a swing at me with it, though.

“Alright,” Amaryllis said. “We... don’t exactly have an advantageous situation here. Three opponents with abilities we can only guess at, all above our levels, and on an even playing field.”

“It’s going to be a tough fight,” I said. “But we’ll do our best, right?”

“Awa, we don’t need to do our best,” Awen said. “We need to win. This is important, Broccoli. We need, um, strategy more than we need optimism, I think.”

“Oh, right.”

Awen turned to Amaryllis. “What’s our strategy?”

Amaryllis rolled her eyes. “Of course. With great intelligence comes great responsibility.” I chose not to comment. “Let’s see. The Frozen Batterer is likely an ice mage. His armour was lighter than most front-line combatant sorts. If I’m against him, I’ll try to overwhelm him. Ice magic tends to be slow to act. Awen... I’m afraid you’re not in the best position in any fight here.”

“I need equipment, and time,” Awen said. “I’m not really much of a fighter at all, really.”

“You’re great,” I said.

She shook her head. “I’m a mechanic first. It’s okay not to be good at fighting, I think. You don’t need to worry about me though, I have a few tricks that might work.” She reached over to one of the racks, then pulled a heavy shield from it.

“Right,” Amaryllis said. “The Bladesinger is a somewhat common sylph class. High mobility, focused on swords. He’s going to be fast, and he’s going to have a lot of tricks. Keep your distance and pelt him with magic. Broccoli, I’m sure you could manage to keep away and fling some fire at him.”

“Uh, alright,” I said.

“The last is a mystery, and the highest levelled opponent we have to face. I’d guess he’s more of a defensive expert, but I can’t say for certain. Just... try to hit hard.”

Amaryllis glanced around, then nodded to herself before moving to a wall-mounted rack covered in knives and daggers and other short pointy things.

I looked around myself. There were so many weapons, but I didn’t have a knack for any of them. I slid over to the next side, and grinned at a wall covered in helmets. I swept one right off the topmost rack. A big gladiator’s helmet, with a metal lion’s face on the front, and it had a furry ruff on the top and back, with a few holes that my ears could poke through.

That didn’t leave me with any weapons though.

That was, until I spotted something in the corner. “Perfect!”

“What’s perf-- oh please, Broccoli, no.”

“Broccoli yes!” I said.

When we left the room, all kitted out, Augustus was waiting for us, as promised. He stared at the weapon I had slung over a shoulder, and the dustpan I held in my other hand. “Captain, is that our broom?”

***