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.By the rules, the winner’s sponsor ascends as Master of the Council of Wizards until a new tournament is called.The tournament is fought à outrance, to the death, under the Rules of Engagement as published by the guild,A.D.1532.” He rested his hand on the volume on the table.“All disputes are to be decided by the judges of the field based on the rules.” He looked at Jack and Ellen.“Do you understand?”They both nodded.“You will adhere to the rules or forfeit the match.Any warrior in forfeit will be put to death by the sword, and his heart delivered to the judges.” He turned to Wylie and Hastings.“There is to be no interference from the galleries, and no wizardry on the part of the sponsors, wagerers, or spectators.” He paused.“There will be a five-minute interlude after each half hour of play.The judges may stop play at any time for a point of order.“The wagering windows should now be closed for this match and sponsors shall leave the field.”Hastings put a hand on Jack’s shoulder.“You can win this if you have the heart to do it,” he said.“And if you do win, it will be the end of this bloody Game if I can help it.” He gazed across the field at Ellen, then turned and walked to the sidelines.Ellen and Jack were left alone at midfield, facing each other, perhaps ten feet apart.She stood, lightly balanced, her face expressionless.The sun was just past being directly overhead, and the shadows around their feet had diminished to nothing.The light caught Ellen’s hair as she tilted her head, and then reflected off the shield slung over her left arm.She looked down at Shadowslayer, and back up at Jack.A breeze snapped the pennants above the gallery, but the crowd was quiet.“Go to,” said D’Orsay.The tournament was almost over before it started.Ellen fished a dagger from a sheath at her belt and threw it, end over end, at Jack.He just managed to get his shield up to chest level, and the blade glanced off and landed somewhere in the grass.The crowd gasped.Ellen shrugged the sling off her shoulder in one fluid motion.Jack drew his sword just in time to deflect a swarm of flaming stars with his shield and the flat of his blade.They splintered into shards of blue sparks that showered over him, momentarily blinding him.Ellen drew her own sword and thrust it forward, spinning long tongues of flame off the tip.Jack brought up his sword to defend against it.It was like blocking a goal kick in soccer from midfield: at that distance there was always plenty of time to intercept.He wondered if Ellen might be wary of confronting Shadowslayer at short distance.But when the aerial assault proved ineffective, Ellen moved in closer with her sword.The merits of his weapon aside, swordplay had always been one of Jack’s strengths, and now he was also benefiting from Brooks’s experience.He found he could hold his own very well.Ellen was quick and accurate, but Jack was stronger, and his weapon made him more powerful still.When he slammed his blade against hers, she almost lost her hold on it.Sometimes she had to grip the hilt with both hands, which closed her reach even more, leaving her vulnerable to a quick thrust from the side.But Jack never seized the opening.His play was strictly defensive, although at times he stepped into the space between them and forced her backward.Ellen flowed gracefully from stance to stance, and Jack moved to meet her.Her play was instinctive, breathtaking, a dance learned from birth.Her blade hissed and sang, a bright blur in the sunlight.Although he often felt clumsy in opposition, he found he could anticipate her moves fairly well.Another gift from Brooks.It was a deadly pas de deux in which the dancers never embraced, yet each was exquisitely attuned to his partner’s every move.Ellen frowned and swiped sweat from her eyes.Perhaps she was surprised they were so well matched.The noise from the crowd had receded to a buzzing in Jack’s ears, but he could feel the intimidating presence of thousands of wizards as an almost physical pressure.He tried to narrow his focus to the small space between them, the reach of Ellen’s sword.He was relieved when the half hour was finally called.His life was measured in thirty-minute segments now.Sweat poured from Jack’s face, despite the coolness of the day.Hastings handed him a large bottle of water, which he drained.The wizard watched him critically, hands on hips.“You’re going to regret those missed opportunities, Jack.Sooner or later, you’ll get careless or she’ll get lucky.You’ll never match her move for move.Use your power against her.Go to her left side.She has trouble with her back hand.”He doesn’t miss a thing, Jack thought, but didn’t reply.He toweled off his face and sent up a prayer for another half hour.Time was called again, and they returned to the field.Ellen was more aggressive than before.Her sword was everywhere, and once it slashed through the fabric of his tunic but missed him.With the increased intensity, however, she grew a little careless, and when Jack delivered a heavy blow to her blade near the hilt, it went flying from her hand.Ellen froze for a moment, then leaped after her weapon.She landed rolling, and scooped it up, bringing it into a defensive position while she was still flat on her back.Jack dropped the point of his sword and stood waiting until she was back on her feet.This drew a mixed reaction from the crowd: silent disbelief and a few scattered boos.Ellen had a peculiar look on her face, which was soon replaced by irritation.She stepped in close to Jack.“What’s the matter, Jack? Do you think you have to give me a break because I’m a girl?” she demanded.Jack shrugged.“I told you, Ellen, I don’t want to kill you.”“Well, that makes my job easier!” she retorted.With a thrust of her sword she penetrated Jack’s defenses and sliced into his right arm above the leather.His shield smashed against her blade with a clang and a spray of sparks, shoving it aside, and he backpedaled out of range.Suddenly, he could hear the thunder of the crowd again, reacting to the blow.It was amazing how much it hurt, and it was all Jack could do to keep from dropping his sword.His pretty coat was torn from wrist to elbow, and quickly soaked with blood.Go after his sword arm, Paige had said, and it seemed she was taking her trainer’s advice.Ellen came back after him grimly, leading with her sword, pursuing her advantage.She slashed at him, one, two, three times; and Jack found he was having trouble stopping her blade.In desperation, he threw out a charm.Ellen all but bounced off the shimmering barrier that suddenly sprang up between them.She remained on her feet, but only just, and launched herself at Jack again, with the same result.Then she stood, sword at her side, breathing hard, cheeks flushed, staring as if dumbfounded.There was pandemonium.The crowd came to its feet.Geoffrey Wylie furiously jabbed his finger at Leander Hastings.“Point of order!” he shouted.“The Silver Dragon is interfering with the match!”Hastings looked baffled.He scanned the crowd, focusing on the Jefferson Street neighbors, as if thinking that perhaps Iris or Snowbeard had intervened.Iris was turned around, gesturing, speaking to Snowbeard, who shrugged his shoulders innocently.Hastings’s gaze drifted to Linda Downey, who did not look innocent at all.He pursed his lips and turned to D’Orsay.“I had nothing to do with this,” he said.“I don’t know whose charm it is.”Meanwhile, Jack examined the gash in his arm as best he could.Fortunately, it seemed to be a flesh wound only.He opened and closed his hand.Everything seemed to be in working order.His muscles and tendons were intact.It was bleeding, not heavily, but it was definitely distracting.Ellen stared at him through the shimmer wall, head tilted, feet apart.D’Orsay addressed the crowd at large [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.By the rules, the winner’s sponsor ascends as Master of the Council of Wizards until a new tournament is called.The tournament is fought à outrance, to the death, under the Rules of Engagement as published by the guild,A.D.1532.” He rested his hand on the volume on the table.“All disputes are to be decided by the judges of the field based on the rules.” He looked at Jack and Ellen.“Do you understand?”They both nodded.“You will adhere to the rules or forfeit the match.Any warrior in forfeit will be put to death by the sword, and his heart delivered to the judges.” He turned to Wylie and Hastings.“There is to be no interference from the galleries, and no wizardry on the part of the sponsors, wagerers, or spectators.” He paused.“There will be a five-minute interlude after each half hour of play.The judges may stop play at any time for a point of order.“The wagering windows should now be closed for this match and sponsors shall leave the field.”Hastings put a hand on Jack’s shoulder.“You can win this if you have the heart to do it,” he said.“And if you do win, it will be the end of this bloody Game if I can help it.” He gazed across the field at Ellen, then turned and walked to the sidelines.Ellen and Jack were left alone at midfield, facing each other, perhaps ten feet apart.She stood, lightly balanced, her face expressionless.The sun was just past being directly overhead, and the shadows around their feet had diminished to nothing.The light caught Ellen’s hair as she tilted her head, and then reflected off the shield slung over her left arm.She looked down at Shadowslayer, and back up at Jack.A breeze snapped the pennants above the gallery, but the crowd was quiet.“Go to,” said D’Orsay.The tournament was almost over before it started.Ellen fished a dagger from a sheath at her belt and threw it, end over end, at Jack.He just managed to get his shield up to chest level, and the blade glanced off and landed somewhere in the grass.The crowd gasped.Ellen shrugged the sling off her shoulder in one fluid motion.Jack drew his sword just in time to deflect a swarm of flaming stars with his shield and the flat of his blade.They splintered into shards of blue sparks that showered over him, momentarily blinding him.Ellen drew her own sword and thrust it forward, spinning long tongues of flame off the tip.Jack brought up his sword to defend against it.It was like blocking a goal kick in soccer from midfield: at that distance there was always plenty of time to intercept.He wondered if Ellen might be wary of confronting Shadowslayer at short distance.But when the aerial assault proved ineffective, Ellen moved in closer with her sword.The merits of his weapon aside, swordplay had always been one of Jack’s strengths, and now he was also benefiting from Brooks’s experience.He found he could hold his own very well.Ellen was quick and accurate, but Jack was stronger, and his weapon made him more powerful still.When he slammed his blade against hers, she almost lost her hold on it.Sometimes she had to grip the hilt with both hands, which closed her reach even more, leaving her vulnerable to a quick thrust from the side.But Jack never seized the opening.His play was strictly defensive, although at times he stepped into the space between them and forced her backward.Ellen flowed gracefully from stance to stance, and Jack moved to meet her.Her play was instinctive, breathtaking, a dance learned from birth.Her blade hissed and sang, a bright blur in the sunlight.Although he often felt clumsy in opposition, he found he could anticipate her moves fairly well.Another gift from Brooks.It was a deadly pas de deux in which the dancers never embraced, yet each was exquisitely attuned to his partner’s every move.Ellen frowned and swiped sweat from her eyes.Perhaps she was surprised they were so well matched.The noise from the crowd had receded to a buzzing in Jack’s ears, but he could feel the intimidating presence of thousands of wizards as an almost physical pressure.He tried to narrow his focus to the small space between them, the reach of Ellen’s sword.He was relieved when the half hour was finally called.His life was measured in thirty-minute segments now.Sweat poured from Jack’s face, despite the coolness of the day.Hastings handed him a large bottle of water, which he drained.The wizard watched him critically, hands on hips.“You’re going to regret those missed opportunities, Jack.Sooner or later, you’ll get careless or she’ll get lucky.You’ll never match her move for move.Use your power against her.Go to her left side.She has trouble with her back hand.”He doesn’t miss a thing, Jack thought, but didn’t reply.He toweled off his face and sent up a prayer for another half hour.Time was called again, and they returned to the field.Ellen was more aggressive than before.Her sword was everywhere, and once it slashed through the fabric of his tunic but missed him.With the increased intensity, however, she grew a little careless, and when Jack delivered a heavy blow to her blade near the hilt, it went flying from her hand.Ellen froze for a moment, then leaped after her weapon.She landed rolling, and scooped it up, bringing it into a defensive position while she was still flat on her back.Jack dropped the point of his sword and stood waiting until she was back on her feet.This drew a mixed reaction from the crowd: silent disbelief and a few scattered boos.Ellen had a peculiar look on her face, which was soon replaced by irritation.She stepped in close to Jack.“What’s the matter, Jack? Do you think you have to give me a break because I’m a girl?” she demanded.Jack shrugged.“I told you, Ellen, I don’t want to kill you.”“Well, that makes my job easier!” she retorted.With a thrust of her sword she penetrated Jack’s defenses and sliced into his right arm above the leather.His shield smashed against her blade with a clang and a spray of sparks, shoving it aside, and he backpedaled out of range.Suddenly, he could hear the thunder of the crowd again, reacting to the blow.It was amazing how much it hurt, and it was all Jack could do to keep from dropping his sword.His pretty coat was torn from wrist to elbow, and quickly soaked with blood.Go after his sword arm, Paige had said, and it seemed she was taking her trainer’s advice.Ellen came back after him grimly, leading with her sword, pursuing her advantage.She slashed at him, one, two, three times; and Jack found he was having trouble stopping her blade.In desperation, he threw out a charm.Ellen all but bounced off the shimmering barrier that suddenly sprang up between them.She remained on her feet, but only just, and launched herself at Jack again, with the same result.Then she stood, sword at her side, breathing hard, cheeks flushed, staring as if dumbfounded.There was pandemonium.The crowd came to its feet.Geoffrey Wylie furiously jabbed his finger at Leander Hastings.“Point of order!” he shouted.“The Silver Dragon is interfering with the match!”Hastings looked baffled.He scanned the crowd, focusing on the Jefferson Street neighbors, as if thinking that perhaps Iris or Snowbeard had intervened.Iris was turned around, gesturing, speaking to Snowbeard, who shrugged his shoulders innocently.Hastings’s gaze drifted to Linda Downey, who did not look innocent at all.He pursed his lips and turned to D’Orsay.“I had nothing to do with this,” he said.“I don’t know whose charm it is.”Meanwhile, Jack examined the gash in his arm as best he could.Fortunately, it seemed to be a flesh wound only.He opened and closed his hand.Everything seemed to be in working order.His muscles and tendons were intact.It was bleeding, not heavily, but it was definitely distracting.Ellen stared at him through the shimmer wall, head tilted, feet apart.D’Orsay addressed the crowd at large [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]