IV. Chivalric Romance and the Bastards (14)
IV. Chivalric Romance and the Bastards (14)
Sir Johannes didn't stay stunned for long.
The rumor that he had won eight tournaments didn't seem unfounded; even as he clutched his side and groaned, he swiftly regained his stance.
Keldric kept his longsword leveled and silently watched Sir Johannes.
'Damn.'
It wasn't that Keldric didn't want to attack.
Given that this was a trial by combat with so much riding on it, swinging his blade repeatedly to keep Sir Johannes off balance was the rational choice.
But if his opponent had opened the distance, momentarily lost his balance, or failed to properly assume a defensive stance, and Keldric exploited that gap to charge in recklessly, he could draw censure.
Honor and trust mattered between knights, and doing such a thing in a trial by combat was not honorable.
The code of chivalry proved to be more of an obstacle than he had expected.
"Thank you."
Sir Johannes, who had benefited from Keldric's forbearance, spoke in a suitably loud voice.
During a duel, expressing gratitude for an opposing knight's consideration was a way of honoring that respect.
Keldric was slightly surprised.
He had assumed Sir Johannes was just a cowardly schemer—a subordinate of Baron Gofrit who had gotten himself mixed up in Anselm's dirty work—but the man was a knight in his own way.
Keldric, who had fully intended to make him a complete cripple, adjusted his thinking slightly.
A half-crippled state that left him groaning for about a month seemed appropriate.
"...Don't mention it."
The brief exchange over, the two men resumed their stances.
The first to move, once again, was Sir Johannes.
He did not charge straight at Keldric.
He moved his feet more cautiously than before, slowly circling Keldric.
Firm wariness had taken hold. There was no sign of the earlier tendency to underestimate Keldric.
In the few exchanges they had shared, he had roughly gauged Keldric's monstrous strength and explosive speed.
Clicking his tongue quietly, Keldric adjusted his blade's angle constantly to match Sir Johannes's movements.
'Looked like the sword wouldn't cut it anymore.'
When Keldric's longsword had slashed into Sir Johannes's flank, it had felt like hitting a heavy lump of metal, not like cutting flesh.
Chain mail, with its tightly woven small rings, was armor strong against edged weapons.
Even if you thrust a sword or swung a bladed weapon, the metal rings prevented it from penetrating.
Moreover, chain mail was still metal armor, so it was only natural that forcing a swing against it and meeting resistance would chip the blade.
In Keldric's case, the damage was worse.
He had forced an attack hard enough to shatter the arming sword's cross guard, so the edge was badly chipped.
The mounted bandits and light cavalry Keldric had faced before had worn lamellar armor.
Backwater villagers mostly used clubs and the like, so they favored lamellar armor, which was strong against blunt force.
Conversely, chain mail was strong against edged weapons but weak against blunt force.
So, judging strictly up to this point, Keldric should have used his mace from the start.
The reason he hadn't was the armpit that inevitably became exposed while swinging a mace.
It was true that chain mail allowed more freedom of movement than plate armor.
But the joints were still heavily restricted, so the armpits and joint areas were often relatively thin or reinforced with padding.
And since that was true of most chain mail, Keldric's was no different.
If Sir Johannes's arming sword drove into Keldric's armpit, where thin, sparse chain mail was supplemented with padding, it would be a fatal wound.
If the axillary artery were severed, he could end up a corpse right there.
But now, the situation had changed a little.
'Seemed I'd hit him wrong.'
Sir Johannes, struck on his right flank by the longsword, was pretending otherwise, but his weight subtly favored his left side.
Because of the pain that made walking uncomfortable, his center of gravity had unconsciously shifted left.
If the right side of his body, the side holding the arming sword, was impaired, he wouldn't be able to attack easily.
Once his thoughts reached that point, Keldric boldly threw down his longsword.
The large longsword skidded across the floor several times before stopping.
In that interval, Keldric drew the mace hanging at his waist.
Keldric had custom-fitted gauntlets and a shield, but he hadn't brought the shield with him.
That was because wielding more secondary armament than your opponent violated fairness and therefore was not honorable.
"...!"
Sir Johannes flinched at the sight of the menacing-looking lump of metal.
Facing a blunt weapon in a state where counterattacking was difficult was not at all pleasant.
Be that as it may, Keldric stepped forward slowly, mace in hand.
He had downgraded his goal to making the man a half-cripple, but even Keldric didn't know if things would go as intended.
Only the mace, a crusher of bone, would know the answer.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
The distance between Keldric and Sir Johannes steadily shrank.
Earlier, Sir Johannes had been the one to charge while Keldric stood still; now, Keldric was the one slowly approaching Sir Johannes.
Seeing Keldric's menacing appearance, Sir Johannes gripped his shield even tighter.
The wooden shield reinforced with iron plates was certainly sturdy.
Even with Keldric swinging at it, if the weapon was an edged one, he could block it without much trouble.
With a mace, however, the story was different. Maces and axes were weapons that existed to smash shields and armor.
Of course, he could block a few times before it broke. During that window, he could thrust into the armpit.
But just then, that wasn't possible. Sir Johannes had to move with relative composure.
"Hup!"
Keldric, who had been stealthily closing the gap, swiftly swung his mace.
The mace that had rested on Keldric's shoulder arced in a semicircle and smashed down toward Sir Johannes.
As the mass of metal hurtled toward him, tearing through the air, Sir Johannes flinched and raised his shield.
CRASH!
Larger wood splinters flew than when the longsword had hit.
Sir Johannes endured the numbing pain in his right arm and opened the distance, but the shield was already heavily dented, the damage digging into his arm.
'I-in one hit?'
Sir Johannes was appalled to see the shield become ragged after a single attack.
It should have withstood at least five or six hits. At this rate, the next attack would clearly smash it to pieces.
WHOOOSH!
There was no time for admiration.
The mace flew at Sir Johannes, who had retreated a couple of steps, once more.
In that brief moment, Sir Johannes quickly assessed the situation and thrust his shield up again.
His intent was to sacrifice his shield and one arm to stab into Keldric's armpit.
Give flesh and take bone. In the current situation it was more like give bone and take life, but none of that mattered.
However, the shield he had expected to be torn to shreds was quieter than he had anticipated.
Instead, on the side of the arming sword thrust toward Keldric's armpit, he caught the glint of metal.
Sir Johannes's eyes went wide.
"This...!"
BANG!
Sir Johannes hastily tried to parry with his arming sword, but if a mace could be stopped by that, no one would ever wield one.
The arming sword was easily knocked aside, and the mace, not stopping there, smashed once again into Sir Johannes's right flank.
"Ghk...!"
A dry retch escaped Sir Johannes's mouth.
The side of the chain mail had its rings completely torn away, to the point where the gambeson beneath was visible.
The gambeson, too, had its innards burst by the assault of the metal lump, and its protective value was practically nil.
The mace came smashing down again. Sir Johannes had to use that gap to quickly open the distance.
Doing so would force Keldric to spend time resetting his stance, and since Sir Johannes still had a shield, he could probe for an opening.
CRASH!
"Ghk!"
But Keldric was not the sort to just watch.
Struck in the side twice, Sir Johannes clutched the injured area and faltered.
Blood seeping from the crushed flesh pattered onto the floor.
Judging by the faint, chilling crunch that accompanied it, it seemed three or four ribs had broken.
There lay the reason Sir Johannes had been so helplessly beaten.
His earlier wound from the longsword had cracked his ribs, preventing him from thrusting into the armpit swiftly enough.
By the time a third swing came flying in, Sir Johannes glared at it with bloodshot eyes and knew instinctively:
If he stayed still, he would die!
A fierce survival instinct and a knight's rugged durability combined, and Sir Johannes, using his wits, swung his shield wide.
The mace was deflected off the shield, and the sacrifice for that was Sir Johannes's destroyed shield and left arm.
Having come this far, the objective had been served. Sir Johannes unhesitatingly discarded the shield and thrust his sword again.
Thanks to the mace having been deflected, Keldric's armpit was exposed and defenseless.
'I'd won!'
Sensing victory, Sir Johannes grinned broadly inside his helm.
But the joy was short-lived.
Sir Johannes's vision darkened.
It was because Keldric's hand, sheathed in an iron gauntlet, had somehow arrived right before his nose.
☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩ ☩
BANG!
A sound that shouldn't come from a face rang out.
Keldric stared hard at the hideously crumpled bascinet. Even as he did, his fist didn't stop.
The sound of metal striking metal resounded loudly, one after another.
The arming sword that had been aiming for Keldric's armpit was now flailing at empty air.
Since Sir Johannes still seemed dazed, Keldric grasped his right arm—the one holding the arming sword—tightly, and continued throwing punches.
CRUNCH—!
"Aaaagh!!"
Sir Johannes's scream, unable to be held back any longer, echoed out.
Along with his left arm, which had already been shattered earlier that evening, his newly broken right arm dangled.
Even through all that, the word of surrender never left his mouth.
Sir Johannes's hand also maintained a tight grip on his arming sword, refusing to let go.
Keldric glanced toward where the clergy stood. The aged priest acting as adjudicator wore an expression of deliberation.
If he rashly interfered, a knight might feel his honor had been trampled, but standing idle and watching wasn't right either, since the outcome already seemed decided.
With both arms shattered and three or four ribs broken, Sir Johannes was already half-crippled.
Though it wasn't visible, his nose was probably broken, too. Keldric spoke with an awkward expression.
"Sir Johannes. I urge you to surrender with honor."
"Nngh...!"
"You fought well enough. It's now about time..."
Grab!
Keldric urged surrender, but Sir Johannes pushed against Keldric's body with all his might.
Even as he did, the arming sword in his right hand came thrusting at the eye slit of Keldric's helm.
The sword path veered wide and struck around the brow, but the look in Keldric's eyes as he gazed at Sir Johannes from within instantly turned icy.
The fact that it went wide was only because Keldric had turned his head; one misstep and it truly would have thrust into his eye.
A tenacious display of fighting to the end without surrendering was indeed honorable for a knight.
But refusing to accept the outcome and persisting out of stubborn pride once the victor was already clear was a different matter.
Keldric realized that Sir Johannes was no longer fighting with honor and tenacity.
He was fighting out of pointless pride and reckless bravado.
The pride that just one thrust—just a single thrust to a vital point—could win.
And the arrogance that he could still manage it even with his arms ruined.
Perhaps that was why he had won eight tournaments. He was the type to quickly end a bout by striking a vital point in an instant.
If so, Keldric had only one option.
"Aaaah!"
Sir Johannes yelled and thrust his arming sword, but Keldric's gauntlet batted it lightly aside.
Keldric's brutish hands seized Sir Johannes by the nape and the groin.
Amid the heightened tension, Keldric hoisted Sir Johannes's body straight up into the air.
"Uh, wh-whoa...!"
"Look, look!"
"That's it! Sir Keldric! Finish him now! That bastard, just—!"
Violent reactions burst out from the watching townsfolk and clergy, and especially from Sir Herman's direction.
To simply lift a knight wearing metal armor into the air—it was impossible unless the man was an exceptional powerhouse.
"Hup!"
After a single sharp exhalation, Keldric slammed the struggling Sir Johannes straight into the ground.
BOOM!
The ground literally shook. A cloud of dust rose thick enough to obscure the view.
And the moment the dust settled, Sir Johannes's form was revealed—driven into the dirt and not moving.
"Ah..."
"Uh, um..."
People stared at the sight blankly.
Even Sir Herman, who had been raising a fist and cheering, looked at Sir Johannes, who lay flattened like a frog and utterly motionless, and awkwardly scratched his jaw.
"H-hey, he's not dead, is he?"
"Fuck me, that's brutal. Do knights all fight like this?"
As the surroundings grew very quiet, Keldric strode over to the aged priest.
The aged priest, who had never seen such a trial by combat before, looked at him with astonished eyes.
"It seems I've won."
"Y-yes."
"Make the declaration."
The aged priest, nodding with trembling eyes, stepped out before the arena. The slightly murmuring crowd fell back into silence.
"As this is a true victory chosen by God, we shall accept and honor Sir Keldric's victory and Lady Kassel's innocence as truth!"
By God's choice, it was thus proven that Lady Kassel had not committed adultery.
As far as Keldric could see, it was utterly spurious proof, but the people who believed without a doubt that this was a victory chosen by God nodded their heads.
"It has been revealed that Guild Master Anselm's heretical acts and his plotting of betrayal are truth! The Church will duly purify his sins, so citizens of Bellam, be at ease!"
And those words also meant Anselm's guilt was now beyond dispute.
Despair-stricken, Anselm collapsed limply from his chair.
But no one moved to help him up.
"With this, I declare this trial by combat concluded! May God bless Sir Keldric's victory, and may He embrace the vanquished with His mercy!"
"Waaaah—!!"
"May God's blessing be with the honorable Sir Keldric and Sir Herman!"
Flower petals, seemingly prepared in advance, fluttered through the air.
Keldric answered the crowd's cheers with appropriate responses while he lifted the fallen Sir Johannes to his feet inside the arena.
As if his consciousness hadn't yet returned, Sir Johannes's slack body came up with Keldric's hand.
"I wish to thank Sir Herman for arranging this glorious duel! Furthermore, I wish to praise the honorable conduct of Sir Johannes, who accepted defeat without resentment and with humility!"
To simply discard the loser was a sure way to earn scorn.
Keldric chose to raise his own honor and worth by suitably saving everyone's face.
Sir Johannes's arm dangled from Keldric's hand since he wasn't actually conscious, but none of that mattered to the crowd at all.
"God has chosen! Lady Kassel is innocent!"
"Praise for the divinely blessed martial prowess of Sir Keldric! Blessings upon the honorable Sir Herman and the devout Lady Kassel!"
Amidst the shower of cheers, Sir Herman, his eyes sparkling, rushed out and embraced Keldric.
"Sir! I believed in you!"
"I appreciate that."
"Record Sir Keldric's victory! Do not let this glorious moment go unrecorded!"
"Well, there's no need to go that far..."
"Sir! What do you mean! This must be preserved as chivalric literature!"
"...Do as you please."
In the midst of the feverish fervor, Keldric let the heated atmosphere sweep him up and raised the corners of his mouth.
Flower petals fluttering in a moment of honorable victory, cheers, and the bastards of Bellam who would burn along with the blazing passion.
It truly was a scene from chivalric literature.