Chapter 52 – Confess

Gaudbert rushed ahead, and Shaelith followed barefoot. The entire castle was deserted because everyone was already down on the tournament field.

“Damn it, my armor,” Gaudbert gasped as they were almost across the courtyard, and he was about to turn back.

“We don’t have time for that now!” Shaelith gave him a nudge, and he started moving again.

After they passed through the castle gate and went down the stairs to the field, their paths parted as Shaelith turned toward the nobles’ stands and Gaudbert continued on toward the entrance to the tournament field.

The melee was already in full swing, and the dense clangor of battle sounded from the field itself, while the thunderous roar of the crowd echoed from the stands.

Shaelith cast all politeness aside and pushed her way ruthlessly through the ranks with sharp elbows toward Obelaine’s seat, stifling a cry of pain when someone accidentally stepped on her bare foot.

Down on the tournament field, Gaudbert had snatched the helmet from a bewildered guard and was just swinging himself over the barrier into the fray. He had his hand at his mouth and seemed to be screaming his lungs out, but none of it reached Shaelith. Nor, apparently, Frambert, who was fighting on the other side of the field.

What reached the stands from the field was just metallic clatter and clang, grunts and groans, repeatedly punctuated by piercing cries of pain and overlaid by the noises from the stands.

Just as Shaelith had to make her way up through the stands, Gaudbert had to force his way down through all the battling knights, carefully dodging and holding his helmet firmly on his head.

He seemed to be making good progress, calling out again and again in the hope of being heard, and had worked his way up to within fifty feet of Frambert, waving to try to get his attention-

-when Grimbart staggered into his path.

The dwarf, who barely reached his elbow, saw the massive Gaudbert waltzing toward him and reflexively landed a hefty swing with his chronosteel arm, which struck Gaudbert squarely on the chin.

Sir Gaudbert came to an abrupt halt, collapsed forward, fell heavily to the ground like a felled tree, and didn’t move anymore.

Damn it! He could have solved this mess with a single sentence. Looks like it’s up to me now.

There, right in front of her, was already the royal box!

Down on the field, Benderast was actually pretty easy to spot. Not just because of his size and his distinctive helmet crest, but mainly because he was carving a veritable path through the crowd of knights, leaving numerous defeated fighters in his wake. The others were slowly but surely starting to just keep out of his way.

He’s actually really good. Maybe he wasn’t just cocky after all, but reasonably realistic.

However, the other knights were also quite good, which wasn’t surprising. After all, these were all men who had learned to fight from birth. And although the wound Sir Radfry’s lance had left was somewhat healed, Benderast still wasn’t moving quite as smoothly as before yet.

Fortunately, Grimbart had his back covered. The dwarf was hard to spot among all the taller knights, but every now and then his chronosteel arm would flash into view as he sliced his way with surprising speed through the knights trying to catch Benderast from behind.

Gwilet simply stood at the edge of the field, looking downright relaxed, and seemed to be waiting for the ranks to thin out. Only twice did he engage in a brief skirmish with an opponent, aided by his two seconds.

Frambert, on the other hand, was lying in wait. He was in the thick of the fray and constantly engaged in combat, yes, but he was slowly circling Benderast at a distance, never taking his eyes off him. He was just waiting for the right opportunity.

Finally, Shaelith had fought her way to her spot, past Mirrsoss, who fluttered her wings excitedly when she saw her. “Shaelith! Where have you been-“

“No time for explanations, Mirrsoss!”

Shaelith grabbed the arm of Obelaine, who flinched. “Princess!”

Obelaine took in Shaelith’s disheveled appearance, barefoot and with tousled hair, with some astonishment. “Shaelith, are you all right?”

Shaelith leaned toward her, brought her lips very close to Obelaine’s ear, and spoke quickly and softly. “Your brother has slandered Benderast to Frambert. Your betrothed believes that Benderast has kidnapped and defiled you and all the other women.”

Obelaine turned pale. “No! Tell me that’s not true!”

“Yes, it’s true,” Shaelith affirmed emphatically. “Frambert bought into Gwilet’s story, and now he wants to-“

“He wants to kill Benderast!” Fear gripped the princess’s features. “He thinks he has to… he wants to… he’s trying to restore my honor! Shaelith, you have to do something! Frambert mustn’t-” Her voice broke.

Meanwhile, the ranks in the melee had thinned considerably, and both Benderast and Grimbart, as well as Gwilet and his two seconds, decided to go on the offensive against one another.

Benderast managed to draw both seconds toward him at the same time. They approached from both sides, counting on him to turn his back on one of them. But Benderast didn’t do them that favor and instead attacked both at once.

He rammed the edge of his shield with full force right into the left-hand man’s eye slit, causing him to drop his sword and stumble on the sandy ground.

At the same time, he swung his sword at Sir Radfry on his right, but Radfry managed to land a thrust with his sword directly on Benderast’s wound, which made him visibly flinch but did not prevent him from delivering a fierce blow with his sword to Radfry’s head.

The impact forced Radfry to one knee, and Benderast immediately pressed his advantage, landing two blows in quick succession with the pommel of his sword. Once on the left temple and once on the right, whereupon Radfry collapsed into the sand.

Benderast managed to turn around just in time to parry a new attack from the other second and send him to the ground as well with another bold blow from the edge of his shield to the man’s helmet.

It was precisely this window of opportunity while Gwilet’s seconds were occupied with Benderast and the field was generally thinning out, that Grimbart used to sneak up on Gwilet.

Gwilet, who hadn’t noticed Grimbart’s approach because he’d kept his gaze fixed on Benderast and hadn’t looked down far enough, didn’t see him until it was far too late. In a panic, he retreated backward further and further toward the edge of the field until the barrier stopped him.

Grimbart now literally flew toward him with a massive leap, and Gwilet crouched down, holding his shield and sword protectively in front of him and even pulling his right knee up to place it between himself and the dwarf hurtling toward him.

Grimbart’s chronosteel arm landed with unchecked force, striking Gwilet’s helmet vertically from above. The blow was so fierce that Grimbart’s arm vibrated and rang out like a bell. The impact caused Gwilet to collapse instantly like a house of cards, sending his head toward the ground faster than the rest of his body. He lay there motionless, not making a sound.

Not gonna lie, last night was great, but THAT just now was fucking satisfying.

“HAHA,” Honor’s laughter rang out loudly from his pole at the head of the tournament field. “HAHAHAHA!”

But before Grimbart even had a chance to fully recover from his jumping attack, Prince Frambert was on him.

He pierced Grimbart’s greave with his sword, causing his leg to snap off immediately and then Framberts’ shield crashed against the side of Grimbart’s helmet, and the dwarf fell unconscious to the ground right next to Gwilet. Thaelon ran along the outside of the barrier toward him.

Meanwhile Benderast had just knocked down his last opponent and, panting, turned in the direction where he thought Grimbart was and saw him lying on the ground.

Frambert raised his shield and sword and walked slowly toward Benderast.

They were the last two left standing.

“Obelaine, you have to stop this!” Shaelith’s grip on Obelaine’s arm tightened.

The princess trembled. “But I… what… but…”

Benderast and Frambert clashed in the middle of the field. Shaelith didn’t know if it was Frambert’s greater experience, or the fact that Benderast was wounded, or that he’d been through more grueling battles during the melee, but it was clear that Frambert was simply better than Benderast. 

Even Benderast’s sheer strength and reach were no match for Frambert and his effortless mastery.

Frambert was beating him up, repeatedly striking him on the head with the flat side of his sword, first knocking the shield out of his hand and then even using his own shield to deliver such a violent blow to his head that Benderast’s helmet flew off in a high arc.

For a few brief exchanges, Benderast was still able to defend himself against Frambert, but then Frambert knocked the sword out of his hand as well, and Benderast stood before the fully armed prince with nothing, but his armored fists raised in defense.

But he still wouldn’t give up. So Frambert continued, though he no longer used his sword. He struck Benderast with his shield, over and over again. Benderast, in turn, staggered as he tried to block the blows, dodge them, and strike out at Frambert with his fists, but Frambert showed no mercy and began striking Benderast in the face with the shield.

Blood streamed down Benderast’s face from the lacerations the shield had left on his eyebrows and shattered nose, and he staggered.

Frambert opened his helmet visor, his face contorted into a cold grimace of rage. “CONFESS!”

Shaelith could only tell that Benderast was trying to answer by the blood bubbles forming at his mouth.

Once again, Frambert struck him in the face with the edge of his shield, and Benderast fell to one knee, spitting blood into the sand. Yet he still held both fists raised, swaying, in an attempt to protect himself.

“YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!” Frambert now stood over him, his shield raised once more, ready to strike. When Benderast remained silent, Frambert struck again. “You have defiled defenseless women. CONFESS!”

By now, the crowd had fallen completely silent.

“A DASTARDLY LIE!” Honor puffed himself up on his pole.

“Be silent, Honor,” Frambert shouted over his shoulder toward the banner. “Your word is worthless. You’re bewitched. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Benderast raised his right hand as far as he could, seeming to say something to Frambert that couldn’t be heard from the stands. Frambert struck the bloody mess that was Benderast’s face with his shield once more.

“Obelaine, do something! You’re the only one he’d listen to!” Shaelith was now shaking the princess.

“I… I can’t… I…” Obelaine had gripped the railing in front of her so tightly that her hands had gone completely pale.

Then Benderast did something Shaelith hadn’t expected. Benderast raised both hands as high as he could and spread his fingers.

“I yield,” came a blood-gurgling croak from Benderast’s swollen and split lips.

That’s the only sensible thing to do. Screw the points and this competition.

Frambert paused for a heartbeat, and honor and hatred seemed to wrestle within him. The hatred fueled by lies won out.

Frambert kicked Benderast, sending him onto his back, then was immediately on top of him, pressing the tip of his sword so firmly against Benderast’s throat that it was already cutting into his skin.

“NO!” Frambert was now trembling with rage and exhaustion. “TELL THEM WHAT YOU DID TO THOSE WOMEN. CONFESS!”

“Prince Frambert!” The banner Mercy wasn’t loud, yet the voice carried effortlessly across the field. “This is not the way.”

“I DON’T CARE! CONFESS!”

Benderast would never confess to something he didn’t do, and I think even if he did, Frambert has made up his mind. He’s going to kill him.

Shaelith now gripped Obelaine’s arm so tightly that it had to hurt, but the princess just kept staring down at the field, trembling and wide-eyed. “Princess, you have to tell him the truth, or he’ll kill Benderast.”

“But I… I can’t… I… they will… they will never let me-“

Shaelith stopped wasting any more time with Obelaine and instead swung herself over the railing and down onto the field.

Oh fuck, that was higher than I thought.

She landed hard on the sand, and a sharp pain shot through her ankle, but she ignored it.

“Frambert!” She hobbled toward Frambert and Benderast. “Stop! He didn’t do it! It was all a lie by-“

“SILENCE, WITCH! One more step and the rapist dies.” Frambert turned back to Benderast, thrust his blade even deeper, and his voice cracked. “This is your last chance! Confess, or die like the vermin you are.”

Benderast only gasped, and that sound struck Shaelith with the force of lightning, sending her back to the tour boat Pride of the Lake all those years ago just as Ben Blomquist emerged from the water, gasping for air one last time. Just before she had jumped in after him.

It would confirm every lie Gwilet had told if she were to attack the Prince of Nalvine right here, right now.

I don’t care.

Shaelith activated her glyphs, which flared up all over her body, and she established a connection to all the fungal spores that were everywhere around her, invisible and omnipresent, even on Frambert’s skin, in his hair, and in his lungs, waiting only for her command to-

“FRAMBERT, NO!” A desperate, high-pitched voice rang out, and Shaelith heard a dull thud in the sand behind her.

She turned and saw Princess Obelaine rushing toward her through the sand, past her, toward Frambert.

Frambert paused and looked at her in horror.

“IT WASN’T HIM WHO RAPED ME. IT WAS THE GOBLINS!”