The Four Swords

Chapter 150 - Never Serious

My shoulders slumped as I exhaled. The fight finished with a bang. Surely my brother clenched his victory, but I was not going to begin celebrating until it was announced.

"That was a good match. You should be very proud of your brother, Lord Holden." Lord Garrison offered.

"You as well. Our country is well protected." I responded, trying not to let my tone sound like I was gloating.

"Sir Benate really packs a punch. Alina, did I tell you about the time I got to spar with him?" Lady Calista wanted to brag.

"Dear Lady Calista, even I have heard that tale from your own mouth." Queen Valerie smirked as she put Cali in her place.

"Well. Would you like to hear it again, Your Majesty?" Lady Calista grinned at her own accomplishment. She must be really comfortable in her present company. This gregarious personality does not blossom in the grand rooms of the palace.

"Maybe some other time." Queen Valerie rose to greet the approaching champions, ending any other chance that Calista might have of beguiling us with her take on her spar with Benate.

A piece of parchment was again handed to me to pass to the queen. Delivery boy should really be in the palace duty description of every Swordsman.

My eyes scanned the information on the card surreptitiously as I handed it to Queen Valerie. My deadpan expression revealed nothing to the anxious eyes of my brother.

As I dared to glance his way, I noticed that the strap on his helmet was not the only thing cut during the battle. Under his chin a small gash let blood mixed with sweat stream down his neck.

It was not a significant amount of blood, but was still frightening to say the least. I am sure our mother would have plenty to say about it once she saw it.

"Brave champions, your might and bravery honors the entire country. Thank you for the match." The Queen's voice seemed to echo through the stands. She looked down at the paper I handed her before continuing.

"The judges have ruled in favor of Sir Benate. Congratulations. Thank you again, Sir Chalmers, for your valiant fight."

"Yes. Very valiant. You kept me on my toes." Benate turned to his opponent with his hand outstretched.

"Sure I did," Sir Chalmers replied without a hint of joy in his voice. He eyed the hand for a moment with a distasteful expression before finally deciding to shake it.

A surge of dislike ran through my veins. Sir Chalmers was almost as punchable as his son.

"I look forward to another opportunity to cross blades." Benate kept on a large smile. He would not be deterred from having a great day.

"The clan of Falcon would be honored to spar with the mighty clan of Bear any day." Lord Garrison replied from the royal booth, cutting off any chance his brother might have to respond in a less flattering manner.

No wonder Sir Gavin and Sir Balor squabbled. They were both a product of their upbringing.

"Indeed." Sir Chalmers added with a sigh. "My brother is right. Thank you for honoring me with the match."

My eyes widened. Maybe there was hope for the next generation.

"Thank you as well. Older brothers are often right. Isn't that right, Lord Holden?" My brother yelled toward the royal box with riotous laughter coming from the stands.

"I wouldn't know. Mine is never serious enough to be right." I responded to my own thunderous response from the crowd.

"If the clan is Bear is quite done with their stand up comedy," Queen Valerie interjected. "Let Sir Gavin and Lord Jacobson be called forward for their own match."

I sheepishly looked toward the floor for the moment to regain my composure. I was rarely one to get in trouble and even this slight reprimand humbled me.

I looked up to see if my brother was taking the queen's words to heart as well. Instead I found my oaf of a brother gloating toward the crowd with his arms outstretched.

I would have to find time to punch him later, even if it was in the medical tent with our mother berating him about the scratch left under his chin. He deserved at least that much.

"It's always relatives that can get the best of you, is it not?" Lord Garrison chuckled.

I took a deep breath and nodded.

My eyes scanned the crowd yet again. The banners shifted to blue and red. Most of the spectators were even more rowdy than they were when they filled the stands.

I began to look for my mother to see if she rushed to Benate's side. She hated when we got hurt.

Instead of finding her, my eyes yet again fell on Gella. I suppose my mind was not fully on my task because I locked eyes with hers, unable to look away.

I felt like she was trying to tell me something. I shook my head to convey not understanding what her hopeful expression was trying to communicate. I saw her shoulders slump before she looked back toward the center of the arena.

Maybe I should find a new place to stay in town. My brother had a rather odd, albeit captivating, neighbor.

Sir Gavin and Lord Jacobson entered the field of play to jubilant cheers. A Swordsman and a guaranteed future Swordsman of two different clans did not often battle for public sport.

Sir Gavin raised his hand in acknowledgement of the crowd. He made the action look like a duty done out of respect for the audience, unlike my brother's over the top display near the end of his own match.

Lord Jacobson looked mortified. At least if he threw up, he was already outside.

Sir Gavin stepped forward with his hand outstretched to Jacobson. For once I could not overhear the words exchanged on the field.

Whatever was said, Jack seemed to find confidence in them. He shook his opponent's hand with a hesitant smirk. Blades were raised as the horn blew.