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`His majesty also contends that the one true hope of deliverance for the Kingdom is the warrior known as the Sunrise Warrior. That under his guidance and protection, we shall restore the rule of law and order in the Kingdom.'
More cheers. And stony silence from the eastern stands.
`The prophet Te
Now cheering rose in the eastern stands. Te
Sean was continuing. 'Te
`These matters having been under contention, and with no resolution attained, the parties have agreed to the ultimate resolution of differences: trial by combat.'
The thunderous cheering that rose now was all-embracing. Both townsfolk and Outsiders alike roared their approval. After some thirty seconds, Sean glanced at the herald behind him. The heavyset man stepped forward and his voice rang out above the crowd.
`Silence! Silence for Sean o' Carrick!'
Gradually, the cheering died away, like a mighty wave that crashes in upon a beach, then recedes until there is nothing of it left behind.
`Trial by combat is the sacred, unarguable method of judgement, the ultimate court against which there may be no appeal. It is the direct appeal to all gods to decide these matters. On behalf of King Ferris, I swear the crown's willingness to abide by the final judgement, absolutely and without further argument.
`Should the followers of Alseiass prove victorious, King Ferris will withdraw all claim of the powers of the Sunrise Warrior and submit utterly to the will of Alseiass.'
There were a few scattered cheers and catcalls from the bleachers opposite the King's enclosure. For the most part, however, there was silence as the true gravity of this contest and its result sank in. And the followers of Te
`Should the Sunrise Warrior prevail, Te
Sean paused, staring across the open ground at the white-robed figure seated opposite him. Te
`Te
Te
`Stand, Te
Still Te
`I swear it,' he said.
Sean, opposite him, allowed himself a small, grim smile.
`Then let all here witness that fact. These matters will be settled this day by combat. All parties have agreed. All parties will be bound by the result.'
Slowly, Sean began to roll up the parchment from which he had read the ritualistic formulas setting out the parameters of the day. He glanced to the pavilions, one at either end of the field.
`Let the combatants come forward! Horace of Araluen, known as the Sunrise Warrior. Killeen of the Isles, disciple of Alseiass! Step forward and receive your weapons for this sacred trial.'
And the cheering began to build again as Horace and Killeen emerged from their respective pavilions. Somewhere, a drumbeat began, giving them a cadence by which to march. Each warrior was fully armoured. Killeen wore a shirt of scale armour – brass plates shaped like fish scales that were fastened onto an i
Both carried their shields on their left arms. Horace's was circular, made of steel fastened over toughened wood, painted white with the emblem of the sunrise depicted on it. Killeen's was kite shaped, with a rounded top. It bore the double circle emblem of Alseiass. Beside each strode anattendant. A white-robed acolyte flanked Killeen, and Will strode beside Horace, desperately trying to keep up. Compared to Horace and the huge figure of Killeen, he looked almost child-like.
The drumbeat came to a stop with one final ruffle as Killeen and Horace, flanked by their attendants, stopped in front of the royal enclosure, where Sean stood waiting for them. Below him, at ground level, a simple table held their chosen weapons. Horace's long-bladed, unadorned cavalry sword. Brass hilted and with a matching crosspiece, it was an unremarkable weapon. But it was perfectly balanced and razor sharp.
Beside it, massive and ugly, was Killeen's mace and chain. A thick oak handle some half a metre long, bound every ten centimetres with iron strips to reinforce it. Then the long iron chain, heavy and thick, attached to the fearsome spiked ball at its end.
It was a brutal weapon, lacking in all grace and finesse. But deadly. Horace pursed his lips thoughtfully as he studied it.
Halt's right. I'll need to stay away from that, he thought.
`Take your weapons,' Sean told them.
Horace took hold of his sword, spun it experimentally to make sure there had been no tampering with it. But its balance and weight were true. Killeen sneered at the graceful blade and took his own weapon, the chain clanking on the table as he picked it up. He hefted it, setting the cruel spiked ball swinging back and forth.
`Attendants, leave the arena,' Sean said quietly. Will ducked under the railing that marked the fighting area and joined Halt on the first row of benches. The two exchanged nervous looks. Killeen's attendant hurried across the field and took his place among Te
`Take your positions. Combat will begin upon the signal trumpet,' Sean told them. He glanced sideways at the trumpeter below him, making sure the man was ready. The trumpeter nodded, moistening his lips nervously. It was difficult not to get caught up in the drama of the moment.
Horace and Killeen marched to the centre of the field, where a lime-washed circle marked out their starting point. Instantly, Killeen tried to sidle to the western edge of the circle, so that the early afternoon sun would be in Horace's eyes. Sean, however, was awake to that trick. The combat would start with no advantage to either.