Kent vs. Eubans

 

“Kent,” he said. “You’re up.”

“It is an honour to be chosen,” Kent said, though a certain tightness in his neck gave away his nervousness.

“You are sending a mere boy to fight me?” Eubans cried, insulted.

And that put Kent’s hackles up. “I am the Commander of the Caelin Knights. I was trained by General Wallace.”

“He might be young, but he’s good,” Sain called. “Good as they come. He can take you!”

“Age means nothing when combined with skill,” Fiora chimed in. Ceniro nodded. Considering most of the army was under the age of 25, and some of them still in their mid-teens… but most of them had chosen or been forced into mercenary work from a young age, so experience was not exactly lacking, either. They just didn’t have as much as Eubans.

“You are still young and weak. But your general chose you… Very well. I shall fight you as a knight. Come!”

Both knights set their lances and charged at each other. Closer and closer they came, until Kent swerved suddenly.

“What was that?” Hector asked. “What happened?”

“Eubans took a dirty shot,” Eliwood answered. “Kent was right to dodge.”

They were wheeling around again, their horses stamping out tight little turns, and charged at each other again.

This time, both lances connected with shields, and splintered under the impact. Eubans jolted back in his seat, but Kent was knocked from the saddle. He rolled and tumbled, not entirely uncontrolled, and picked himself back up and drew his sword. His horse cantered away, and he whistled at it urgently.

But Eubans dismounted and drew his own sword, and the two began whaling on each other. There was silence from the onlookers, but the courtyard rang with the crashing of steel on steel.

Eubans was stronger than Kent, but he was also slower, and tiring faster, his concentration faltering. Kent saw it, gritted his teeth, and struck out again – to be sent tumbling to the ground, his shield flying, under a particularly heavy blow.

“He won’t be able to counter in that position,” Sain muttered in an agony next to Ceniro. “Oh gods-”

Eubans’ sword came down, Kent’s sword came up, and Eubans stumbled away, blood pouring from his throat.

“Kent!” cried Fiora as the red knight put his head back and closed his eyes. At the pegasus knight’s scream, he raised his head and stumbled to his feet, blood streaming from a large jagged cut on his head.

“I… I did it, right?” he gasped, and collapsed onto his hands and knees, sword clattering to the stones.

“Serra!” Ceniro snapped, and as the mercenaries silently gathered the body of their leader and departed, the pink-haired cleric ran forward and raised her staff.

 

Lyn vs. Eubans

 

“Lyn,” Ceniro said. “Go get him.”

“Pleasure,” Lyn said, with a toss of her head.

“You send a girl to fight me?” Eubans asked. “I am insulted!”

“Please,” Lyn said. “I’m a fighter as much as you are.”

“This is Lyndis, daughter of Hassar the Lorca chieftain, and granddaughter of Lord Hausen, Marquess Caelin,” Sain announced.

Hector continued. “She defeated Lundgren in single combat last year. She can take you. Which is why Ceniro chose her.”

“I will skewer you like a fly on a pin.”

Lyn shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Then she was off, running lightly along the stones.

Eubans couldn’t touch her with his lance. He had reach on her, both from the height granted by his horse and the length of the spear, but she darted around him, faster than he could turn his horse, and Ceniro marvelled anew at her strength and grace. It had been a long time since he’d had the opportunity to just watch his people fight, as well.

“Yeah, Lyn!” Hector called as Lyn darted in, took a slice out of Eubans’ arm, and flipped away again.

Eubans finally began to move his horse, cantering around the courtyard, keeping away from her as he tried to size her up better.

Lyn put her hands on her hips. “Is that all you got? Come at me.”

“You will not taunt me, child,” Eubans gritted, and charged at her.

Somehow, Lyn leapt onto the horse, grabbing hold of something, and struck down Eubans. The horse reared, its head tugged around by Lyn’s weight, and dumped them both to the ground. The hooves came down on her before she could roll away.

“Serra!” Ceniro cried, and both he and Hector were running out into the courtyard, Serra right behind them.

Lyn had been pummelled by the horse, blood showing on her side. Her face was grey and covered in sweat.

Serra raised her staff. “Broken ribs, shock… possibly some internal damage, but nothing we can’t fix. You boys can stop hovering like love-sick hawks. Better yet, make yourselves useful and help get her inside.” Lyn’s colour returned a bit with the second wave of the staff, and they obeyed the healer.

 

Rath vs. Eubans

 

“Rath,” Ceniro said. “It’s been a while. How do you feel about taking him on?”

“I will not fail,” Rath said simply, and rode forward.

“A Sacaean horseman? You stand no chance.”

“I don’t need to,” Rath said. “I just need to put an arrow in your eye.”

“You think you’re that good, huh?”

Rath made no answer, but nocked an arrow to his bow.

The two horsemen circled around the courtyard. Eubans needed to close to do any damage to Rath, but Rath was too canny to allow that to happen. Rath only let off two arrows; one missed, and one struck Eubans in the shoulder armour. It didn’t penetrate, but only became lodged there. Eubans reached up and snapped it off.

“Hold still, you little wretch!” Eubans cried, and hurled his spear at Rath just as Rath fired his third arrow.

Lyn screamed as the lance knocked Rath from his horse, but Eubans was also sliding to the ground, an arrow in his eye.

“Serra!” Ceniro ordered. Rath didn’t look dead, not yet- was he dead?

“He’s all right!” Serra cried a moment later. “I mean, he’ll be all right. Someone help me get him inside!” Dorcas and Bartre came at her call, and in minutes they had removed the lance from Rath’s shoulder and Serra had partly healed it.

Ceniro let out a sigh of relief. They had not been reunited with their friend only to lose him.