| Subject: Before the Fight |
Author:
Keth
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Date Posted: 16:27:55 05/13/02 Mon
The stands to the south of the main arena in the training grounds were already beginning to fill with courtiers. On the other three sides, merchants, paupers and townspeople alike clustered, eagerly awaiting the duel.
Keth himself sat with neither group. The warriors of Gondor stood, sat or leaned against the fences below the banks of raised seating, secure in their own domain. Dust hung in the air, raised by scuffling feet.
His group of about ten friends was joined by Targan, a broad grin on his face.
"Care to make a wager on the outcome?"
Madjael laughed. "It's easy money. Everyone knows the king will win."
Targan's face took on a shrewd expression. I think not, my friend. My sources tell a different story."
"Who are your sources?" asked Keth, his curiosity roused. Targan may not be trustworthy, but he always had the latest news. Right now, he was clearly bursting with the need to share the information he carried. Sure enough, it didn't take much more prompting to get him to talk.
"Well, I was visiting Reanna this morning- "
Enough said really, Keth reflected. Reanna was a competent healer at the palace, but with a tongue that never stopped moving. Any palace gossip she would be sure to know, and so would anybody else in her vicinity. She was pretty enough, but Keth didn't like her. Targan was apparantly less picky.
"- and word in the healing houses is that the real reason King Elessar is going to duel Deollyn is because the fool made a pass at the new royal 'playmate'."
Innuendo-laden laughs greeted the news. Merrian could be heard saying "...well it didn't take him long, did it?"
Keth brushed dust from his face, turning round to fix Targan with piercing hazel eyes.
"You can't be serious?"
"Well, Reanna's probably exaggerating as usual. But the basic facts are there. One of the healers saw her."
He paused smugly.
"It gets better."
Madjael was helpless with laughter. He looked up, still shaking with mirth.
"How could it possibly get better?"
Targan looked at him seriously now.
"Does the name Namün mean anything to you?"
Madjael stopped laughing and began to choke. The warriors around him began to laugh harder. The story of how she had dared to leave him was a popular one.
Personally, Keth had thought Namün to be far too good for Madjael, and been pleased when she had ended things. He hadn't seen her since though, and was more than a little surprised at the situation she now seemed to be in. She hadn't seemed the type to be interested in Royalty at all.
Recovering slightly, Madjael sat up. Only Keth, who was watching him, saw the brief look of anguish in his eyes. Clearly he wasn't as over Namün as he pretended. Nevertheless, he was quick to join in with the other men's banter. They all knew the rules. Never show weakness, never show pain.
"...if he's bedded Namün, there's no chance for him. The man's going to be exhausted! Deollyn will run him through in a flash."
"On the other hand though, if he's still walking, he's clearly got a lot more stamina than he's letting on. Give him some credit. I think he'll win." First one man, then another gave his opinion.
The men crowded around, placing their bets. The still watching Keth looked up at the stands. He saw Namün entering, flanked by two burly guards. She looked a lot smaller than he remembered, small and scared. They deposited her in a corner seat, well out of the way of the nobles. She sat there alone, bruises clear on her flesh even from this distance. Feeling a flash of pity, Keth turned back to Targan.
"Three gold pieces on the king to win."
Targan looked surprised, but took the money. Keth looked out over the dusty arena.
I hope you do win Elessar, for her sake as well as your own.
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