A Joust of Knights

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

Darius lay on his back and looked up and watched one of those creatures raise its ax high overhead and bring it down right for his face. His world moved in slow motion: he felt every breeze, saw the frozen face of the beast, heard the distant cheers of the crowd. This was what it felt like, he realized, to live his last breath.

Darius wanted to react in time, to roll out of the way or block the blow—yet he knew he could not. His sword lay two feet away, and this time the creature had come down too fast for him to react in time. Out of the corner of his eye Darius saw his fellow gladiators, all dead on the ground, and he knew that his time, too, had come. Here he would meet his end, on this dusty floor, in this hated arena, with all these gladiators whom he did not know, killed by this horrific beast.

Darius had no regrets. He had fought proudly, had not backed down, and had faced whatever they had thrown at him. At least he would have a chance now to reunite with his brothers in arms—Raj, Desmond, Kaz, and Luzi—and join them in the world to come. Darius thought of Loti, and he wondered if she, too, were dead, waiting to greet him, or is she was still alive somewhere. He did not know which was worse.

The blade came closer, and Darius felt its breeze and prepared to die—when suddenly, a clang rang in his ears. Darius blinked and looked up to see the giant ax blade stopped by a long, silver staff, just inches above his face.

Darius looked over and was shocked to see Deklan, standing there calmly in his brown robes, staring back defiantly at the beast as he held out his silver staff, blocking its blow and saving Darius’s life.

Darius blinked several times, not understanding what he was seeing. What was Deklan doing here? Why had he risked his life for him? How could he be so strong as to block such a terrific blow with his silver staff?

As Darius stared in disbelief, still trying to process it all, trying to process that he was still alive, he watched Deklan break into action. Deklan spun his staff in a circle, throwing the ax from the creature’s hand, then pulled back his staff and jabbed the creature between the eyes, knocking it backwards.

The great ax spun in the air, and Deklan reached out and snatched it seamlessly, then as several creatures charged him, he pulled it back and threw it. It sailed end over end through the air then lodged itself in a creature’s head—to the delight of the crowd—felling it.

In the same motion Deklan swung his staff around and smashed another creature on the side of the head, making it drop its ax in mid-blow and sending it to its knees. Other creatures descended upon him, but Deklan faced them all calmly, hardly even looking distressed as he sidestepped them and swung his staff in every direction, end over end, striking one here and another there, moving like lightning as he darted between them. He was constantly in motion, like a cat, moving with stunning speed and dexterity; he was more agile and graceful than any fighter Darius had ever seen.

Deklan spun and jabbed one in the wrist, disarming him, then broadsided one in the throat, then dodged and swept out another from behind his knees, then rolled and swung upward, hitting another between the legs. He created a circle of devastation around him, blocking or dodging their blows, moving so quickly that no one could touch him. He was like a whirlwind, and he did not stop until all the creatures lay on the ground before him.

With a pause in the battle, Deklan walked over to Darius, calm and cool, and reached out a hand.

Darius looked up, shocked, still hardly believing what had happened. He took Deklan’s hand and he yanked him to his feet.

Deklan smiled back.

“Figured I couldn’t let you have all the fun,” he said with a grin.

Deklan picked up a dropped ax, stepped forward, and slashed Darius’s chains, freeing him.

The crowd roared in surprise and delight, and Darius turned and took it all in, standing there with Deklan in the eye of the tornado, seeing all the felled creatures, all about to rise again. He stared back at Deklan in awe, wondering. He had never encountered a greater warrior. Who was this man?

All around them, the creatures were slowly rising, and as Darius tightened his grip on an ax handle, he felt emboldened. Standing side by side with Deklan, he felt that, for the first time, he could win.

“I don’t understand,” Darius said, as they waited, back to back, for the creatures to come again. “Why did you risk your life for me?”

“I realized you were right,” he said. “Life is a small thing. Honor matters more. Somewhere along the path, I lost my way. You helped me find it again. I am done surviving: now I choose to live—and to live with honor.”

“But why me?” Darius insisted, something bothering him. “Why give it all up, why risk your life for me, a stranger?”

There came a pause, amidst the roar of the crowd, as more creatures gained their feet, assembling like a small army to come back for them. Darius braced himself, as he knew the fight of his life was coming.

“Because, Darius,” Deklan finally replied, “you are no stranger.”

Darius looked back at him, puzzled, and as he did, he finally recognized something in the man’s eyes, something that had been at the edge of his consciousness, something that finally had it all make sense.

“Because you, Darius,” he said, bracing himself for the coming blows, “are my son.”