Loïck was pensively staring at his great helm with a slight frown. Rose, who was sitting fully in the bed, looked up from her reading exercises with curiosity.

“Is that helmet really that interesting?” She asked with a brow raised.

Loïck passed a hand through his dark hair. “I don’t think I’m going to use it.” He was talking about the betting fights that would begin soon, as they had just finished making camp. The march would not be delayed because of some inner competition between a few knights.

“Really? Why?” She asked, confused. Why not use the extra protection, when you had it?

“It restricts my vision severely, and it’s heavy. It makes me slower. In one on one duels, it’s better to be fast.”

Rose nodded and continued to read, slowly passing her fingers over the small letters. Suddenly she stopped, and furrowed her brows slightly.

“Loïck? What’s this word?” She asked, approaching and showing him the parchment.

“Idiot?” He read for her, while he slipped into the tough but light leather armour.

She smiled. “Yeah that seems right.” Then she returned to her favourite place, sitting down on the soft furs of the bed, while Loïck rolled his eyes.

“George!” He then called. The young page almost immediately came into the tent.

“Yes sir!” The young page said with fervour.

“Carry my shield. We’re leaving.” They both left, taking a few minutes to walk through the camp. Arriving on the outskirts, they saw groups of knights standing around, waiting for Sir David to arrive. Loïck quickly eyed Jason, who was talking with Sir Merril. The latter was a formidable fighter, one of the favourites for the fights to come.

Loïck approached, greeting them both.

“Loïck. Jason here just told me about your many exploits.” Sir Merril said with a dangerous smile. “I look forward to evaluating your prowess myself.”

“It would be an honour to meet you in battle.” Loïck said with a respectful nod. He knew that Merrill was more or less mocking him, but he preferred not to antagonize with this man.

Suddenly the sound of a sword beating against shield caught the attention of the crowd of warriors. David stood on top of a rock, with a confident smile.

“Greetings, fellow knights. I will make this short, as we only have the evening. I will announce the fights, and then you can bet to your heart’s content. The rules are simple: if you are disarmed, you lose. If you fall down, you lose. And if you surrender, then you obviously lose too. Good luck to everybody!” David was below the average height amongst knights, but largely built and strong.

“Hm. This is not even a real tournament, as many as we are, we’ll probably only get one or two duels in the whole evening.” Merril snorted.

“All the more reason to win.” Jason said with a determined smile.

As the knights assembled into a circle, Loïck felt the anticipation build up and his nervousness assemble in his stomach. He was both relieved and disappointed when he was not among the first two fighters.

As the fights succeeded, he listened to Merril who pointed out basic errors and stupid mistakes, and his nervousness only grew. There were a few broken bones, but mostly there were only bruises. Their weapons were blunt after all.

Taking a quick look at Jason, he saw him licking and biting his lips, and was slightly relieved that he seems as nervous as him. In all truth, he had never participated in a tournament, and the sheer pressure of having tens of your peers watching and judging your every action was suffocating. This was nothing like the small skirmishes he had participated in, where you could essentially run off on your own in the chaos, slaughtering peasants.

He tried to calm himself by slowing his breathing, but suddenly he was interrupted. He heard David shout his name. He walked into the centre of the circle, hoping that it wasn’t too obvious that his legs were shaking.

In front of him, there was a man who had taken an opposite decision than him. He was wearing heavy armour, though his helmet was open and he could see his eyes looking back at him. Was it really the right choice to abandon his heavy armour? He suddenly felt strangely vulnerable. A single hit taken and the fight could be finished.

He nodded to his opponent, clutching his sword and shield tightly.

The two men slowly began circling around each other, with their shields covering their left side and drawn swords. They had chosen similar weapons. Then suddenly, his opponent attacked.

Loïck caught the blow with his shield and immediately pounded back. As his muscles began settling in the rhythm of whacking and hacking at each other, he found his nervousness leaving place to the countless hours of practise and experience he had been subject to.

The clashes of metal shook the camp, the fight seeming to require little finesse and strategy, the main skill being the strength and endurance of the combatants.

Loïck smacked his shield against his opponent’s, knocking him a few steps back and then lashed out with his sword, which was batted away and then swung around. He quickly danced away before the sword could hit him.

Although he hid it well, Loïck suspected that his opponent was tiring out. His movements were getting slower and sloppier. The light armour proved to be the right choice after all. This time Loïck attacked, slashing towards his chest. The other knight deflected his first blows, but a powerful swing came through and Loïck hit the opponent’s helm in the side with the full strength of his arm.

A smile erupted on his face as he saw the man stumble a step back, and he looked up at David for confirmation of his victory. Then he felt something hit him in the chin, and his shocked eyes returned to his opponent, before he lost consciousness.

-------------------------------------------------------__

“A blind uppercut!!” Loïck raged. “The man didn’t even know what the fuck he was doing!!”

“Come on. The guy fought well.” Jason said, trying to calm him.

“I fought better!” Loïck retorted, giving him a furious glare.

“You can’t blame you own carelessness on him.” Jason said, irritated. “Anyway, come back when you’re feeling better.” And by better, he meant when he had calmed down, Loïck knew.

The doctor was painfully stitching his chin up, where the skin had been ripped off. The opponent, whose name was Rufus they had told him, had hit him hard with the steel edge of the shield. He had been knocked unconscious.

“Calm down, young one, or I won’t be able to do my job properly.” The doctor said. Loïck suddenly realised who he was.

“You’re the one who’s teaching Rose how to read.” He declared.

“That’s correct. Now please stop talking too.” The man said shamelessly.

Although Loïck loathed obeying other people, he found it quickly in his interest to do as the man said. His wound pounded waves of pain through the chin, making him grimace.

The old man finished, and inspected his work. “Come back in a week or so, I’ll check its condition.”

“Why are you teaching Rose?” Loïck asked with inquisitively.

“Why not, would be the better question.” The old man returned with a smile.

“Why her, specifically?” Loïck corrected himself with a hint of annoyance.

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. She’s a bright child though.” He said with a proud smile, which then faded into a frown. “I hope you treat her well.”

“That’s none of your concern, old man.” Loïck said with clear annoyance this time, as he stood up and walked away. Who did this man think he was, questioning him, a knight?

On the way back to the competition, Loïck encountered the knight he had fought earlier.

“Greetings, once again.” The man named Rufus said with a respective nod, his helmet under his arm. “It was a good fight.”

“Not my best.” Loïck simply answered, wondering if the man came to taunt him. He was already angry enough as it was, he wouldn’t need much to more to start a fight. A good punch on the redhead’s nose would grant him immense satisfaction.

“No, not your best. You still fought better than me.” Rufus admitted with a resigned smile. “Let’s call it a draw.”

“Yes, let’s do that.” Loïck said, with irritation.

“I just want to make sure that there are no hard feelings.” He said still with a smile plastered on his face.

“Dude.” Loïck said vexingly. “Grow some balls.” Then he left him standing there.

He soon joined Jason, who was still waiting for his turn. He was watching Sir Merril fight a poor young knight, seemingly toying around with him with relative ease.

“Calmed down yet?” Jason asked without looking at him.

“Rufus, what a bastard.” Loïck said with smugly.

Jason looked at him with exasperation. “What now?”

“The guy just tried to manipulate me. Apologising for winning... You know what kind of people do that?”

Jason looked at him in disbelief for a few seconds. “It sounds like he was just trying to be nice...”

Loïck gave him a long look. “No, you idiot, he was trying to make a friend. It’s a classic. Fighting somebody, and then you congratulate or apologies depending if you lost or won, and bam! You got yourself a friend for life. He must think I’m stupid.”

A loud uproar and claps erupted in the crows as Sir Merril dispatched his opponent, drowning Jason’s comment in the sound.

He was a good guy, but sometimes, he could be quite naïve.