Mickey Reichert - The legend of Nightfall

Nightfall leaned against the wall casually, waiting until the women approached. He kept his face and his colors in shadow, preferring that no reports of his presence find their way back to the tourney. The cut of his clothes would reveal him as a servant, which should satisfy them that he was not a local thief or danger.

From habit, they assessed him as they passed, the strangers with only a passing glance. Okraniah granted a flirtatious smile. Having played the game longer, she realized that nobles’ servants often carried money or made arrangements for their masters.

Using only a brisk movement of his head, Nightfall summoned Okraniah. She said something to the others, who looked briefly back at Nightfall then continued walking.

Okraniah wandered to Nightfall. "What can I do for you, sir?"

Nightfall smiled. He pulled two silver and one of the gold coins from his pocket, sorting through them with a finger.

Okraniah glanced quickly, then stared as she recognized the gold.

Nightfall plucked out the gold and passed a silver. "There’s a knight whose symbol is a walking bear, named Sir Gondol. Spend the night with him… and the morning. See to it he sleeps too late for the contests, and the last coin becomes yours, too." He handed her the second silver. "You never spoke with me."

Okraniah nodded agreement. Taking the money, she headed toward the fighting grounds.

Nightfall slipped quietly into the darkness. Tonight, at least, he would sleep.

Sir Gondol had chosen a sword and shield combination the previous night, and Nightfall methodically prepared Prince Edward for the match. With practice, armor found its proper positioning more easily; and Edward seemed comfortable with the classic weaponry, though he had not selected it. Nor, Nightfall believed, would he have to use it. He had seen Gondol and Okraniah arm in arm the previous night, and the woman had never failed him at any task in the past.

Nightfall had just finished with preparations when Okraniah threaded through the crowd. She feigned interest in a nearby noble while Edward faced her. As soon as he looked away, she made a subtle wave at Nightfall.

Sudden alarm washed through Nightfall. Only six participants remained, and King Jolund had abandoned the paraded entrances and repetitive lectures to allow each match to occur singly. That way, everyone could watch, and it would delay the final round until evening. Edward and Gondol had drawn the earliest position. It seemed simple enough for Okraniah to delay the knight until just past daybreak, long enough to force him to forfeit the match. Yet, apparently, something had gone wrong.

Nightfall handed Edward his shield. "Excuse me a moment please, Master.”

Edward studied his shield, scrubbing at a dull spot that Nightfall knew from the previous evening would not respond to polishing. He nodded his consent.

Nightfall strode to Okraniah and pulled her aside. "What’s wrong?"

Okraniah took Nightfall’s hand, surreptitiously returning his coins. "I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry. Here’s your money back."

"What?" Nightfall made no attempt to take the silver, openly or in secret. She would never have considered defying Nightfall when she had known she worked for him. He had not expected his Sudian persona to win the same obedience, but he had believed his money would make up for the difference.

"I’m sorry. I tried my best." Okraniah looked genuinely regretful, her already big eyes looking huge. "Gondol has some woman he’s promised to. He was ready to forget her early on, but guilt got the better of him late last night."

Damn. Nightfall shook his head.

Okraniah sighed, a sad smile bending the corners of her mouth. "I’m sorry."

Nightfall met her gaze. She looked away quickly, dark eyes disappointed, though he did not ponder whether from personal failure or loss of payment. It did not matter. Either way, Edward would have to win or lose this contest by skill, and all of Nightfall’s trickery might come to nothing. Ignorantly, Okraniah might have sold out the demon’s soul for love. Nevertheless, he let her keep the silver. That would buy her silence, even from Gondol. Turning on his heel, he headed back to Prince Edward.

Nightfall had only traveled half the distance when Edward waved him in impatiently. "Hurry, Sudian. We wouldn’t want to be late."

Nightfall trotted to Edward’s side, helping him strap on the swordbelt since the gauntlets did not allow delicate adjustments of buckle and leathers. They rushed to the center ring to find that Gondol and his entourage had beaten them there. The knight stood in the center, facing the entrance, his squire and two retainers hemmed against the railing. Nightfall left Edward at the entrance then took his position beside the walking bear standard, wishing he had room to pace. He had no one to blame except himself; experience had taught him to trust no one, and he should have found some means to handle this match that did not rely on another.

Nightfall studied the competitors with a detail that made his eyes water. The armor made it difficult to judge size, but he knew from prior observation that the two seemed nearly evenly matched for weight. Age had given Gondol a paunch; yet, though not as well-defined, his musculature seemed as developed as Edward’s own. The hazel eyes seemed alert and ready, measuring the prince with a scrutiny that nearly matched Nightfall’s intensity. He held the sword in a relaxed position, halfway between attack and defense, and with a composure that indicated assurance as well as skill.

Prince Edward also held an appropriate stance, though wholly defensive. He crouched, legs parted for balance, and leading with his left side.

"Begin," one of the judges said.

Gondol charged without hesitation. Edward remained in place. Gondol’s high stroke arched down on Edward, blocked by the shield. Edward riposted with a chest-height blow that Gondol fended. Both men bore in for the attack, hammering at one an0ther’s defenses until the arena rang with the sound of steel smiting steel. They exchanged blow for blow, either occasionally sneaking in an extra offense while the other closed his defenses. Nightfall cringed at every attack while the spectators applauded, shouted, or chanted at every movement. Although Gondol had drawn a more massive following over his career, Edward’s recent devotees retained loyalty to the underdog princeling who, in their minds, never should have survived the first round.

Nightfall ogled every motion, discovering a discomforting trend. Gondol’s attacks came closer to a mark than Edward’s, and he seemed more competent when it came to dodging shield defenses. Twice, he managed to jab through openings to strike armor, but the judges considered neither a killing blow. In the same amount of time, Edward met only Gondol’s shield or sword. As fatigue made them sloppy, the knight seemed likely to deliver a winning stroke first.

But the battle continued, long past the time Nightfall believed he could have managed to support the armor, let alone exchange sword sweeps. The audience seemed a wild wave of indecipherable sound, loving the length of the combat as much as any specific blow.

Gondol thrust beneath Edward’s shield. The prince recoiled far enough to save his armor, then lunged in with a high feint. Gondol raised his shield, momentarily blocking his own vision. The instant he did, Edward drove in with his off-hand, catching the rim of Gondol’s shield on his own. Edward swept his shield, dragging Gondol’s along in a movement that opened the knight’s defenses while closing his own. The prince whipped in with an upstroke that would have torn Gondol belly to throat if not for the armor.

"End match."

Nightfall could scarcely hear the judge beneath the screaming crowd, but the combatants apparently did. They separated while one of the judges approached Gondol and carried on a short conversation. The knight sheathed his sword and shook his head.