“Win goes to Relam,” Tar Agath announced. “Take a minute. Then we will begin again.”
Sebast glared at Relam and stepped back, sticking the practice sword point first in the ground and wiping his brow. Relam stayed where he was, breathing evenly, holding his sword so that the tip was slightly up and ready. He would not be caught unaware by a sudden start again.
The allotted minute passed. Relam still stood ready, waiting for the second match to begin. Sebast had picked his sword up again and was waiting too, staring intently at Relam. Another minute passed, and Master Agath did not speak or give any signal that the match was started.
After two minutes had passed with no activity at all, the sword master sighed. “You might like to GET ON WITH IT!”
Galvanized into action, Relam and Sebast sprang forward, locking their swords and shoving at each other. This was no contest of skill, for a moment, but a test of strength, exploring the opponent’s reserves, seeing how much he had left. Relam, sensing he had the edge, took a half pace forward, driving Sebast back. The lordling disengaged with a quick twist and spun away, quickly putting distance between them.
Sebast stood there, waiting, his breath coming in short gasps. Relam was winded too, but he did not show it, maintaining an outward appearance of total control. He raised his sword in front of him, staring Sebast down.
The lordling actually took a half pace back and Relam smiled to himself. Now was the time to strike, and use what his father had taught him.
Relam yelled aloud and charged forward, baring his teeth as Sebast flinched away. To his credit, the lordling stood his ground even as Relam bore down on him. The prince held his sword out to the right as he ran, then as he drew nearer to Sebast leaped forward with a thrust.
Sebast went to deflect Relam’s blade but it was already gone. As soon as he had landed, Relam had spun and struck from the other direction. Sebast blocked Relam’s blade with the hilt of his own practice sword. Then, Relam, still spinning, hooked his right leg around Sebast’s ankle.
The lording fell in a heap, his practice sword skittering away. Relam quickly rested his practice sword on Sebast’s collarbone, ending the bout. Sebast glared up at Relam.
“I believe that’s two to none,” the prince whispered fiercely. “Better hope you win this last one, Garenes.”
Sebast spat at Relam and knocked his practice sword to one side. Then, in the blink of an eye, he drew his real sword, a gleaming, glittering blade, double edged with a silver chased hilt.
Relam stumbled back, cursing as Sebast attacked. The prince dodged the first two wild blows, then parried the third with his wooden sword. Sebast’s blade bit deep into the wood and stuck there. As he withdrew, the practice sword was wrenched from Relam’s grasp. He quickly drew his own blade and took up a defensive stance. Before Sebast could strike again though, a tall figure interposed himself between the two cadets. Master Agath raised his own sword and blocked Sebast’s blow with a screech of steel on steel. He and Sebast locked blades, then, with a contemptuous flick the master disarmed Garenes, sending his sword skittering across the ground.
“Enough,” he snarled. “I wish I could say I am surprised, Sebast. That was a cowardly and foolish thing to do.”
“Out of my way!” Sebast shouted.
Master Agath stepped back a pace and leveled his sword at Sebast. “That’s enough, Garenes. Stand down.”
“But-”
“That’s an order, cadet!”
As Relam watched, Sebast covered his anger expertly and made a small bow towards master Agath. “I apologize, Master Agath, I thought the third bout had started.”
Relam scowled angrily. Surely the lordling would not get away with such a feeble excuse! Even as Relam went to reply though, the sword master spoke.
“Do you take me for a fool, Garenes?” he asked in a deathly quiet voice.
Sebast took a step back, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else. “Sir?” he asked hesitantly.
“I asked if you take me for a fool!” Agath roared, stepping forward and closing the distance between them once again.
“N-No!” Sebast replied, backing away.
“No what?”
“No, sir,” Sebast amended quickly. “I do not take you for a fool.”
“Then don’t waste my time with obvious lies,” Agath replied, regaining some of his former calm. “I saw the way you went after Relam, with no warning or provocation, using a real blade instead of a drill sword.”
“I-”
“Now would be a good time to keep your mouth closed,” the sword master snapped.
Sebast fell silent, glaring at Agath and Relam.
“Your actions have left me no other choice,” Agath continued. “You are dismissed, Sebast Garenes. Do not show yourself near this training center again.”
“But-”
“Dismissed, boy!”
Still scowling, Sebast scooped up his sword and stalked towards the gate angrily. “My father will hear of this!” he shouted over his shoulder.
“Yes, you can bet he will,” Master Agath muttered darkly. “Come, your highness. Let’s move on with the trials.”
Relam stood still, watching Garenes shove his way through the gate and turn the corner. Only when the lordling was out of sight did Relam sheath his sword and turn to follow the master swordsman.
“You took no injury?” Agath inquired anxiously.
“None,” Relam confirmed. “He could not have bested me, even by surprise.”
“Perhaps. It only takes one mistake though,” Agath pointed out. “What is it between you and young Garenes, your highness?”
“Nothing serious,” Relam said, shrugging. “We just rub each other the wrong way I guess.”
“I hope you are right,” Master Agath
