Calculated Chivalry
They say that all in love is fair
Yeah, but you don't care
~ Huey Lewis
Chapter 2
Revenge converts a little right into a great wrong. ~ German Proverb
As Leon had expected, Mary Fou Hunt had no difficulty telling where he could find the student’s gambling syndicate. Just as there was a formal power structure among the students, in the form of the student council, there was also an unofficial organisation passed down from one class to the next, of students who handled the wants and desires of students that weren’t filled by the academy itself. They catered to - and presumably included - students from both the special class and the general class.
“There’s nothing illegal about them running gambling,” Mary advised, “but don’t ask about anything they might do which would be against the academy’s rules. Bringing in official attention might get them into some trouble, but you’d be making a lot of trouble for yourself with their families and those of any other student that owes them favours.”
“No one likes a snitch,” he said to confirm his understanding. “I’m just going to lay some bets, Lady Hunt. I’m not interested in stirring up trouble.”
“Just call me Mary,” she insisted. “After all, you’re courting Lady Katarina’s cousin so I’m sure we’ll be good friends going forwards.”
Leon hid a smile at how Mary was trying to push him towards Scarlet - and by extension, away from closer ties with Katarina. It wasn’t as if she didn’t have reason to suspect that anyone entering her friend’s social circle would find themselves smitten by the blue-eyed girl, but Leon didn’t think he was really at risk of that.
Katarina was a nice girl and obviously considered him a friend, but she was a little too sweet. He would want a bit more spice to a girl he started a relationship with. The fact he’d probably incur Gerald’s undying enmity was another factor, if a lesser one.
“Here we are,” Mary informed him, gesturing to a function room with a short line waiting outside.
Given the relatively low number of students, the fact that betting was backing up a queue said a lot about how many people were laying money on the results.
“I guess a lot of people are hoping to make some money for the summer holidays before the term ends,” Leon noted as they took their places at the end of the queue.
“Is that your goal?” she asked him.
He shook his head. “I’m not usually fond of gambling, but this is a matter of skill not luck. And I strongly suspect that the people who vandalised my room will have laid money against me. Confronting them would be unwise, but raising the stakes here…”
“It’s all very well if you win,” Mary noted. “But it’s possible that you won’t even be participating if the three duels before yours decide the matter.”
“I’m sure that that’s covered under the terms of the betting,” Leon told her.
One of the boys ahead of them turned back and Leon recognised Raymond Fou Arkin, one of the boys he’d snuck away from during the dungeoning expedition some weeks ago. “Leon, what are you doing here?” he asked.
“Probably more or less the same that you are,” Leon answered. “Although I don’t know who you’re betting on, so some details may differ.”
There was a little whispering in the queue from those who had apparently not recognised Leon.
“It’s not as if anyone would accept my betting against myself,” he added.
Raymond hesitated and then nodded. “I suppose not. You were asking what happens if one or both of the last two duels doesn’t happen? If that happens, all bets on those duels are void and money wagered will be returned less a small transaction fee.”
Mary smiled sharply. “So the bookies make some money off the duels even if they don’t happen. How nice for them.”
“They’re running a business at the end of the day.” Leon had expected something of this general nature. “They’re not taking sides, they’re operating as a business.”
The line shrank ahead of them quickly. Most people seemed to have a good idea what they were going to wager before they went in. Also, by allowing only one gambler in at a time, the bookies were keeping who was betting which way private - something that probably let them set the odds at a level to manage their risks.
“One at a time,” one of the third years at a desk inside warned as Mary tried to enter with Leon. She huffed and stepped back as the door closed.
Leon checked the board that had been set out, showing the odds on each of the ten combatants. Three of the matches were more or less even in their expectation, but the odds definitely didn’t favor him or Katarina. It made sense, neither of them had been seen using a knight-armour at the academy before now.
“We can’t let you bet against yourself,” the older student informed him, “But the rest are open. We won’t tell anyone if you bet against your team-mates.”
“That’s appreciated, but unnecessary.” Leon pulled out his wallet and removed five platinum coins from it. “I’m betting one of these on myself, one on Prince Alan, Prince Gerald, Lady Claes and Lord Claes.”
“That’s… just about within our reach,” the boy said after a moment’s thought. “We prefer not to take bets quite that large, but given the amounts wagered so far are quite high we can manage that.” He took out a fresh sheet of red paper and started noting down details. After finishing, he tore it into five sections along pre-scored lines. “Hold onto these, because if you lose them then we won’t recognise any claim for payout.”
Leon tucked them away. “Thank you.”
“I’d wish you good luck,” the upperclassman told him. “But honestly, if you win all of these, we’re going to be paying out quite a bit.”
“I’m sure you’ll make it back from the opposition,” Leon noted and left the room.
“Leon!” his sister Jenna snapped, having apparently arrived while he was inside.
“...is something the matter?” he asked as Mary stepped past him into the room and closed the door behind him.
His sister put her hands on her hips. “You told me you couldn’t afford to pay for me to have a contract servant, but here you are betting money.”
“What’s your point?”
“You lied to me!” Jenna fumed. “How can you hide money from your lovely and loving sister?”
“It’s easier when I haven’t seen her in the better part of ten years,” Leon told her. “You replaced her somehow, probably because of Zola's bad influence.”
“You’re a horrible brother!” She grabbed his sleeve. “You hide money and now you’re getting involved in the mess with the prince. Do you ignore everything I tell you?”
Leon let her drag him along, but not out of sight of the doorway, digging in his heels once they weren’t blocking anyone. “Honestly, Jenna, you’re not doing yourself any favours. The reason I don’t fund your bad habits is the same reason that you haven’t had a suitor yet - you’re acting like Zola. It’s not likely to end well, look how she ended up.”
Jenna let go of him. “You don’t understand anything, Leon. You can’t go against society. If I tried, I really would be left marrying some leftover and you’ll be doing well to marry at all.”
“Yes, well society sucks so I aim to misbehave,” Leon shot back. “You may be a count’s eldest daughter now, but you’re not going to have a chance to marry at that level because every count’s son has the chance at marrying someone who doesn’t act like a backstabbing social climber but actually looks like they might be a help to them in the rest of their life.”
“And what will you do, little brother, if you don’t have any marriage available by the time you’re twenty? Father’s barony isn’t near enough to the county for he and Nicks to support you, so you’ll be standing alone and all the neighbours can turn on you with impunity. What will you do then?”
Leon considered that question for a moment. “Kill anyone who attacks me, add their lands to mine and dare anyone to do anything about it.”
“Wh-what?” Jenna asked, incredulous.
“Either someone will kill me, or I’ll run out of idiot neighbours.” Leon smiled thinly. “The only question is how large my domain is by the time that we reach one of those points.”
“My, that’s an ambitious agenda,” Mary murmured, having presumably finished laying her bets. “If it does come to that, you might fight the royal army being deployed though.”
“If Julius is in charge by then, I think Holfort will have larger problems,” Leon told her.
“...a fair point,” she conceded. Mary then turned her eyes on Jenna. “Leon’s own plans aside, you may wish to consider his assessment of your own path. While the crown does support the idea of noble wives living well in the capital, that doesn’t mean that they’re happy with some of the more exploitative practices that have grown up around that. I would suggest that you distance yourself from them - most of the upper nobility have little patience with contract servants and the like.”
“But the prince bought a servant for Lady Lafan,” Jenna pointed out.
Mary nodded. “That marks him as an aberration, Lady Bartford. His engagement contract with Lady Redgrave prohibited her from having such servants - as does mine, and every other arrangement I know of that involves the households of dukes, marquises… even the more reputable counts’ families. Your parents not allowing you one is far wiser than you seem to realise.”
Jenna was left with her mouth gaping at that rebuttal.
Turning to Leon, Mary curtseyed. “If you’ll allow me to excuse myself, Lord Bartford. I must meet Prince Gerald regarding certain preparations.”
“Of course.” He bowed solemnly in return. “I hope that everything goes well for you.”
“And with you.”
Leon looked at his still flummoxed sister. “Do close your mouth, Jenna,” he advised her and made an escape before she decided to give him another piece of her mind.
“Do you have any idea what Mary is up to?” he asked Luxion under his breath as he left the building. He wasn’t aware of anything that she’d been asked to do - and so far as he was aware, Gerald should still be working with his brother and Keith to bring Katarina up to the highest possible level of readiness for the duels. For the prince to leave his fiancee alone was markedly out of character.
“Curiously, none of your new human companions have confided in me, master.”
“Not quite what I asked.” Leon paused and considered his options. “Follow her and let me know please. This mess was probably unavoidable but I’ve no idea how far it’ll spin out of control now. Anything behind the scenes that I’m not aware of could backfire nastily.”
“Understood.” The AI’s voice was dry. “Operation Stalker is now underway.”
Leon grinned at the sass and headed back towards his room. Cleaning the walls to remove the insults wasn’t all that vital but he wanted to make sure all the broken glass and other garbage was out before he got his bed sorted out again. Honestly, if he couldn’t have Luxion stand guard, he wouldn’t feel safe sleeping in that room right now. It was very tempting to ask the Stuarts to let him use a spare room, but students were rarely allowed to spend the night away from their dorms and the staff would be staying well away from any permissions that might suggest they were taking sides against the future prince.
“Lord Arclight,” he heard Mary say, the words relayed to him through the earbud he was wearing. “A moment of your time.”
“Given your friendship with Lady Claes, I think it best we don’t speak.”
“I really must insist.” The young lady’s voice was steely. “This won’t take long.”
Arclight took an audible breath. “I am quite sure -”
“That you can spare a moment for the lady.” Gerald Rafa Stuart’s voice was silky and menacing.
Nothing was said for a few moments, Leon sweeping his ruined bedding into a bag. It might be salvageable as rags, but he was tempted to just put it out for burning.
A door closed and then Chris asked: “What do you want?” in a strained voice.
“Nothing but a quiet talk,” Mary told him in a voice that sounded courteous. More or less.
Gerald was a little more urbane. “Lord Arclight, in a little under forty-eight hours you’ll be facing my dear fiancee in a duel. Not combat, a duel. And I love Katarina very very much… but let’s be honest. She is not a knight.”
“You, on the other hand, are one of the rising stars of the kingdom. Son of the greatest swordsman to serve the Holforts, perhaps even able to one day surpass him.” Mary’s voice was sweet. “So Katarina poses no threat to you at all.”
“You can’t possibly think I’m going to throw the match,” the boy exclaimed. “Have you no shame?”
There was a pause and then Mary told him: “You are in no place to talk of shame, Lord Arclight.”
“It would be difficult for anyone to expect you to lose your duel,” Gerald advised smoothly. “My concern is merely that the duel ends with Katarina completely unharmed. In that regard, I am pleased that you will be the one to face her. Out of the five of you, I think you are the least likely to do anything reckless.”
“Striking at the cockpit, for example. Or attempting a coup de grace.” Mary listed the examples. “Harming one strand of Lady Katarina’s precious hair.”
“By all means, win the fight. Champion your precious Lady Lafan.” Gerald’s voice was colder than it should be for any fire mage. “But should my beloved come to even the slightest injury… Well, I don’t quite know what I will do. But I’m quite sure my family history will provide many many ideas for how to punish carelessness on your part. So let’s not find out. What do you say?”
Chris’ voice was shaky. “Do you think you can just drag me aside and threaten me?”
“Oh dear me, Lord Arclight.” And then Mary’s voice drained of the slightest warmth. “We have dragged you aside, we are threatening you… and there is nothing that you, your family or any of your idiot friends can do about it.”
There was the sound of a door opening.
“I’m so glad that we’ve had this chat,” Gerald said in a conversational tone.
“Huh.” Leon shook his head, concluding that everything interesting had been said. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. Do you think anyone heard that, Luxion?”
“Besides the three present, yourself and my recording, master?”
“Yeah… hold onto that recording.” The boy looked at his room and sighed. “Probably it’ll never be needed. But damn, I don’t want those two coming after me. Better to have something in reserve… just in case.”
“It occurs to me, master, that should Katarina Rafa Claes come to harm in your knight armour, there might also be consequences for you. It seems likely her family would see you as having enabled her.”
“You’re such a cheery fellow, Luxion.”
“One tries,” the AI responded matter-of-factly.
-
Even the previous rapprochement and additional ginger muffins hadn’t quite brought Olivia to the point that she’d feel safe treating Angelica as a friend. The simple fact was that as a duke’s daughter, the other girl was almost as highly placed as it was possible for a woman to be in Holfort - and marrying Prince Julius would have removed ‘almost’ from that description. As the daughter of a yeoman farmer, Olivia Campbell wasn’t quite at the exact opposite end of the social spectrum - but the gulf in their power was such that she might as well have been.
(Lady Katarina was a friend, of course, largely because Katarina Rafa Claes radiated friendship like an irresistible force, essentially overriding all social conventions. Olivia could no more have not treated her as a friend than she could have kicked a small puppy if it looked at her with big pleading eyes. Only the most callous monster imaginable could have refused to be Katarina’s friend… and even then, few people would have put money on the monster.)
Today Angelica sat almost entirely alone despite the crowds of students filling the stadium seating. Even families with a long and close relationship with the Redgrave household were hesitant to support her when she had not only fallen out with the crown prince but was to all practical purposes confronting him directly.
If the duke had been the one to do that, perhaps it would have been different. Although, that would have been open rebellion and civil war, so most likely one side or the other would have backed down rather than risk that. Holfort was, after all, surrounded by neighbouring realms that would be delighted to add the kingdom’s sprawling territory to their own, particularly if it could be seized in convenient bite-sized chunks.
However, Angelica wasn’t the duke or even the heir. And her power, based on associations that were now shaky at best, had therefore deserted her.
She actually looked surprised when Olivia approached her seat and asked if it would be alright to sit next to her.
“You can if you want,” the duke’s daughter told her. “But it might not be the best of ideas. Whatever happens today, I’m going to be in disgrace and anyone near me might be dragged down as well.”
Olivia elected to sit down anyway. “If you’re in disgrace, and Lady Katarina is in disgrace, then I’ll be in good company,” she said stoutly.
More company than that, she discovered a few moments later as three other ladies hurried to take seats with them. Mary Fou Hunt was someone that Olivia had met already - a marquis’ daughter (though not a marchioness, she insisted) almost seeming like a normal girl when around Katarina. Introductions ensued with the two silver-blonde women accompanying her and Olivia’s head swam as the twin daughters of yet another duke sat down next to her. Surely one of them would realise she was just a commoner and send her away?
They did not, in fact, send her away.
Nor, a few moments later, did the pair who arrived just before the duels were scheduled to begin. Olivia blushed as the president of the student council looked at her. Lady Violette actually almost swooned and only remained seated upright when her sister and Olivia caught her by her arms.
“Julius already as much as said he doesn’t believe brother is impartial,” Sophia Fia Ascart declared brightly. “So we might as well sit with people we like.”
“I’m glad to be in that select company,” Angelica answered, sounding just as overwhelmed as Olivia felt.
Fortunately, that was when the trumpets sounded and everyone turned their attention to the arena below them - Lord Nicol Fia Ascart considerately sitting down behind them where his unfairly beautiful face wouldn’t be a distraction.
In an attempt to streamline the event, the referee had all ten of the duellists come out and give their oaths for proper conduct at once. They did so dismounted, which gave everyone a good view of the prince and his companions in skin-tight piloting suits. The five facing them wore matching white coats trimmed in appropriate colours - although the distinct hair colours made it easy enough to identify everyone down there.
“Was it really worth making coats just for one event?” Angelica mused. “I should at least have asked Lord Bartford to withdraw - I can’t reward him in any way, and he’s far more vulnerable to retaliation than the Claes or the Stuarts.”
“Perhaps we should all get coats like that to show our solidarity,” suggested Sophia. “Wouldn’t that be a good idea, Mary, dressing like Lady Katarina?”
Mary averted her eyes. “They are rather more… proper than just wearing pilot suits.”
Her opinion seemed to be a minority one. In fact, some of the voices carrying from elsewhere in the stands seemed rather disappointed that Keith Rafa Claes in particular was wearing a coat. Katarina’s brother wasn’t currently engaged, which made him a subject of great interest within the student body.
Nonetheless, the young man didn’t remove his coat until he was inside his knight-armour and facing Brad fou Field across the arena, while the other duellists had withdrawn to watch. Both of the mages had marked their knight armours in their preferred shades of purple, and they were of similar models - lithe and agile in comparison to older designs. Brad’s sported a more prominent head-unit and carried four lances on its back, making them easy enough to distinguish.
“Who do you think will win?” asked Sophia, sounding nervous.
No one said anything for a moment and then Angelica sighed. “I’ve never seen them face off before, I’ve no idea.”
“They’re both very gifted,” Nicol said noncommittally.
The duel began and Olivia saw the arena floor ripple, a pair of golems forming to flank Keith’s knight armour. The three figures advanced upon the now out-numbered Brad, but he counterattacked immediately, three spears rising from his backpack and flying through the air to strike at each adversary.
For a moment the battle seemed stalled but then the fourth spear took off directly upwards.
Nicol tsked quietly. “He missed it.”
“Brad?” asked Angelica, gripping the rail in front of her with both hands.
“No.”
A moment later, the spear plunged down again, striking at Keith from behind. As the earth mage maintained his slow progress towards Brad, he was a predictable target and the lance ripped into one shoulder, crippling one arm of the knight-armour.
Distracted, Keith relaxed his control over the golems to try to address the damage to his knight-armour but that left them vulnerable and within moments, all four spears were assaulting the already damaged knight-armour.
Keith fought defensively, raising another golem to protect his damaged side, but four distinct attacks were more than he could cope with and Brad slashed at the back of the knight-armour’s legs, forcing it to kneel to him.
At that point the referee intervened and the first victory was declared, for one of Lady Lafan’s champions. Brad proudly marched the full perimeter of the arena, waving and accepting accolades, before Keith was able to have his damaged knight-armour carried from the field.
Olivia patted Angelica reassuringly. “It’ll be alright.”
“I’m just glad he hasn’t been hurt for my sake,” the other girl said fatalistically.
Once Brad’s grandstanding was over and Keith had departed, the second duel began. This time the two knight-armours were clearly distinct, Alan’s being black and clearly much newer than the red knight-armour being used by Greg Fou Seberg.
“Is it alright if I cheer for your fiance?” Scarlet Rafa Ades asked Mary solemnly.
The buxom girl shrugged (making Olivia feel just a little envious). “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I can never tell.”
Then the two knight-armours closed in on each other and everyone was on the edge of their seats. No magic was visible between the two, but sparks flew as Alan’s sword clashed against Greg’s spear.
It was a mobile fight that slashed back and forth across the arena. Olivia felt almost dizzy trying to keep track, as the two young men twisted and turned through the air, striking at each other with abandon.
“He has…” Then Nicol sat back. “I thought Alan had him.”
Olivia couldn’t say what exchange had prompted the comment. “Is he losing?”
“No, just a missed opportunity.”
There was a sudden screech of metal against metal and the plate of armour protecting the shoulder of Greg’s knight armour sheared away, hacked off by Alan’s sword. For a moment Olivia wondered if that would decide the matter, but both continued.
“What happened?” asked Mary.
It was Angelica who answered: “Prince Alan missed - he was aiming for a disabling hit but he couldn’t quite reach far enough. I’m guessing…” She hesitated. “I don’t suppose he’s faced someone with a spear before?”
“He has,” Nicol disagreed. “But perhaps not often enough to be fully adjusted to how it changes matters of reach.”
“But he still damaged Greg’s armour,” Mary offered hopefully.
“Hit him harder, please!” Scarlet called in encouragement to the black-painted knight-armour.
Four more exchanges took place before more armour was destroyed, but this time it was the right knee of Alan’s armour that suffered the hit, and it was quickly evident that the damage was more than superficial. With his mobility impaired, Alan limped on for another few minutes but eventually Greg managed to sweep the good leg out from under the black knight-armour with the butt of his spear, leaving Alan helpless on his back with the spear point aimed for the ‘throat’ - more or less where his own head was.
“Oh no!” Sophia wailed.
Greg dismounted once the match was called in his favour, helping the referee to open the cockpit hatch once it was clear that it had jammed and Alan was unable to get out without assistance. There was no victory lap this time, the winner giving the loser a hearty slap to the upper arm and words that appeared rather congratulatory.
“Humph,” Scarlet pouted as Alan walked out of the arena, head low. His armour was carried off after him.
Violette looked at her sister and shook her head, then reached past Olivia to reassure Mary: “I’m sure Alan is alright.”
Mary nodded absently, “Alan’s just fine… this is the match that worries me.”
Out on the arena, the next duel was being announced.
-
Chris Fia Arclight’s knight-armor was trimmed with an aqua-blue that almost matched his hair, and it towered over Katarina Rafa Claes as she walked out, straight-backed, into the arena.
Keith being defeated had worried her, and now Alan had been defeated as well. If she lost now, then it was all over.
I can’t lose, she told herself. I’m a villainess - and the villainess only loses to the heroine. And Lord Arclight is no heroine! Of course, he was fighting on behalf of Lady Lafan - who was acting a lot as if she was a heroine… but that didn’t count, right?
Although… by that logic, Angelica might be the villainess. Did that mean that Katarina was now one of the villainess’ henchwomen? It was like there was an entire different story playing out in parallel to the one that Katarina had been expecting?
“Lady Claes?” the referee asked. “Did you forget your Knight-Armour? Or…” He looked hopeful. “Are you here to concede?”
What? Katarina realised she’d gotten lost in her own internal dialogue. “No!” she called quickly. “I have my knight-armour.”
Reaching into her coat, she pulled out the pen-shaped device that Leon had given her and twisted it until it clicked. Then Katarina pushed the top down. “Big Stein! I choose you!”
“What are you doing?” asked Chris.
Katarina shook her head. “I’m summoning my giant robot.” Didn’t he know anything?
There were shouts from the stand, but she stood proud and tall. It didn’t matter what anyone said, because today she was going to pilot a giant robot. That was what was important!
A moment later there was a whistling noise and people began to look up. A shadow fell across Katarina and then, with a roar of thrusters that sent her long brown hair flapping around in its high ponytail, her knight-armour landed behind her.
(Leon was the one who named it Stein. Katarina liked it! He said it meant stone, which suited her because she was an earth-mage and stone was a sort of really dense earth. And if it had some more red and gold and if she squinted a bit, it would look almost like a Gundam!)
The landing had kicked up a cloud of dust, and Katarina climbed up the knight-armour quickly, scrambling into the cockpit. She went through the strapping-in process diligently, because proper preparation prevents pathetically poor performance! All the P-words marked her securing another strap, and she chanted the reminder to herself.
Alright! She was ready! Pulling out the Big Stein’s sword, she adopted a defensive stance. Right, just as if it was Gerald and she’d lost snakey! She would parry, parry, parry and then run away!
However, Chris didn’t cooperate with her plan - he had his sword out but he didn’t attack. Not even when the referee was out of the way. Well, obviously he should have waited for that. But still…
“Lady Claes,” the boy declared after a moment. “It would be inappropriate for a swordsman like myself to take advantage of your inexperience. I suggest that we fight to three touches.”
What did that mean? Katarina let go of her controls and rubbed her forehead. There was dust on her hand, she’d gotten pretty dusty when the Stein landed. Anne would probably insist she take a bath right away once this was over. Oh, she should answer Chris. “What do you mean?”
Back behind Chris she could see Lord Marmoria and Prince Julius arguing about something. Then Jilk called out: “Just beat her already, Chris! Get it over with!”
Well he wasn’t being very nice. Then again, he’d have to fight Leon next if Katarina won. Maybe he didn’t want to?
Chris gestured with his knight-armour’s suit. “Every time we touch the other’s armour with our weapon, it’s a point - even if it’s just a tap. The first one to three points wins… although obviously, if someone can’t continue, that also decides the duel.” The head of his knight-armour turned towards the stands briefly - aw, he was looking at his fiancee! Maybe he did still care for Violette! “That way no one gets hurt.”
No one getting hurt sounded great to Katarina. That was one less bad end to worry about. She cleared her throat, coughed a little on the dust and then declared: “I agree!”
Three times? She could parry three times! Although… touching his knight-armour might be difficult. Katarina had practised parrying mostly. It wasn’t as if she wanted to beat Gerald with a sword once he fell in love with Olivia, just to stay alive long enough to run away.
Wait, that was only if Gerald fell in love - not when. Olivia didn’t seem to be on that route yet. She still might choose someone else!
Chris lunged with his sword and Katarina brought hers up on reflex, moving just barely enough to bat it aside.
He pulled back and then tried again. Katarina blocked a second time.
Then he made to cut at her knight-armour’s head and when she raised her sword, he suddenly switched targets. Katarina tried to skip back but she stumbled a bit and her knight-armour shook a little as Chris tapped its thigh with his sword.
“That’s one!” he called.
Did that mean it was her turn?
Katarina hit the thrusters and blasted towards him, swinging her sword ferociously. “Here I come!” she shouted!
The aqua-trimmed armour jetted backwards, staying ahead of her - and then he swept to one side and knocked her sword off to one side before tapping the arm with his blade. Katarina’s sword went flying from the Bit Stein’s hand.
“Two,” Chris announced as Katarina wheeled around. He flew back and away. “I’ll let you recover your sword, Lady Claes.”
There was clapping from the audience and Katarina smiled. “That’s very kind of you,” she told him, opening her weapon case. “But I have other weapons!” She yanked out the first thing that came to hand and flourished.
The clapping petered out and then the students watching began laughing.
“...are you mocking me?” demanded Chris.
Katarina gripped the hoe in the Big Stein’s hand. “No.”
She had to hit him three times. The sword wasn’t working, she should try something different. Wasn’t that common sense?
The boy sighed heavily. “Go and pick up your sword, Lady Claes.” His knight armour reached up to its face with his free hand, as if he was adjusting his glasses.
“Why do you want me to do that so much?” Katarina wondered out loud. “You’re not going to hit me in the back are you?” He didn’t seem to be the sort of person to do that.
“Of course not!”
“Then what is it?”
Chris hesitated. “Please do not try to fight me with a farm tool. This is a duel. Treat it seriously.”
Hey! Was he insulting Big Stein’s hoe? Katarina glared at him, even though she knew that the boy couldn’t see her face.
You looked after your hoe and your hoe looked after you!
“I’m going to fight you just like this!” she shouted up at him. “And you’ll be sorry for what you just said!”
“You’re making a joke out of this!”
She fired her thrusters, flying up to face him, raising the hoe high above Stein’s head. Katarina hadn’t really flown a knight-armour before Leon lent her the Stein, so she was a bit wobbly. Apparently having the ground further away from you didn’t make you less likely to fall over. Strange.
Chris sighed. “Alright then. Please don’t blame me for this.” He drew back his sword and paused. It was just like a samurai duel! Katarina could almost see the sakura blossoms falling between them!
A flare of fire from behind Chris marked the start of his charge.
Katarina waited, steadying herself as she hovered in the air.
The sword swung around, aiming for one of her upraised arms.
“Heave-HO!” Katarina shouted and swung the hoe down with all her might!
There was a crash as Chris flung up his sword to try to parry her, but the force of the hoe could not be denied! Katarina was an expert at hoeing! She drove it down determinedly and it forced the much lighter weapon downwards
With a second crash, the point of the hoe struck Chris’ knight armour right on the top of the head.
Pivoting on the impact, the Big Stein flipped up and over. Katarina flailed wildly as she tried to stay in the air and avoid dropping her hoe. Meanwhile, Chris’ knight-armour dropped down and fell to the floor of the arena.
Finally, Katarina was stable and she hadn’t lost her hoe. She took a deep breath and looked down.
Chris’ knight-armour was prone on the ground.
Slowly, she descended and landed next to it. “Lord Arclight? Are you okay? I think that that was my first point?”
There was no reply.
“Lord Arclight? Chris?”
The referee ran over and climbed up to check the boy’s cockpit. After a moment he scrambled down. “Uh… victory to Katarina Rafa Claes, by knock-out.”
Katarina blinked. I won? I won! Yay!