Temple Sword

Chapter 45 The Champion's Oath
1305 Summer
Hungary, Visegrad
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"Did you hear that?" Laszlo asked, almost throwing his helmet adorned with a gilded cross to the ground in excitement. "They're cheering for you."

"Really?" Antal walked into the tent out of breath, and collapsed on a three-legged chair.He was clad in heavy mail from head to toe, his kite shield slung over his back, and it was a wonder the little stool didn't snap under him.

"Now comes the hardest part," Laszlo said. "Are you sure about your horsemanship?"

"My opponent, no matter who he is, must have been able to practice riding a gun on a dummy so far." Antar threw down his nose helmet, "Do you remember those robbers? I was only 14 years old when I defeated them .”

"You were seriously injured and almost died." Laszlo reminded.

"But I beat them," he poked his head into the black, airtight helmet, "I can barely see anything!"

"You need it, you don't have a shield on your face." Laszlo helped him stand up, "Get out, there is not much time left!"

"You put it lightly," Antar dropped the kite shield from his back, then picked up the small shield Laszlo handed him, with a special groove for spears. "You're just here watching the game."

"Stop showing off!" Laszlo pushed him out of the tent.

The audience cheered louder when they saw the people who came out.Antal won the horse race and the javelin, was No. 2 in wrestling and struggled to get No. 1 in the mace.The only remaining items are swordsmanship and spearmanship on horseback. Including Antal, only six attendants advanced to this stage.

If you are poked off the horse in the spear battle, you can still prove yourself with swordsmanship, but if you lose again in the swordsmanship competition, you will have no chance again.

Whoever wins the joust and defeats all five opponents will leave as champion knight, congratulated and blessed by the King of Anjou himself.

Antar felt that if he was poked off his horse, he might not be able to stand up and continue fighting. His whole body was throbbing with pain, his knees were shaking with fatigue, and his weapon hand seemed to be broken.Only the promise of victory and knighthood kept him going until now, and the thought of his soon-to-be knighthood prevented him from allowing himself to fall.

He saw his uncle through the eye slit of his helmet, and William, sitting on the north stand with the rest of the Church's knights, could read the pride and excitement on his face even from this distance.Then he caught a glimpse of another figure, a knight in a black cloak, sitting at William's right.

"Carlos!" Antal recognized him in shock.

He suddenly forgot all his troubles and gained new strength.He leaped excitedly onto Sarecher's back, the saddle hot from the sun, but he didn't care a bit.It's something he's been waiting for, something he's been preparing for since childhood.If he can defeat all the remaining opponents now, he can taste the fruit he has waited for more than ten years.

After getting on the horse, Laszlo also came out of the tent, holding a long and thick lance in his hand.He ran to Antal, handed him his lance, and rushed back to the entrance of the tent.

"Now we're going to show them," Antal leaned close to the black horse's ear and patted its neck, "Give them a good show!"

They stopped before the wooden barrier, and Sarecher let out a disturbed snort.He was a smart animal, and he remembered that the last time they did something like this was many years ago, when it almost killed his little master.

Across from them, on the other side of the lance track, an attendant from St. Martin's Abbey was trying to calm his mare, but to no avail.Antal smiled under his helmet, thinking he had beaten his first opponent.

The herald gave the signal and it was decided in the first back and forth, with Antal hitting his opponent's shield with a well-placed blow, knocking him off his horse.

Seeing the wonderful operation of the boy on the black horse, the king let out a roar of appreciation.He looked more and more nervously at this somewhat thin, somewhat young, but defeated almost all the attendants.He is quick, light, and graceful, and his skill with a spear on horseback is unmatched.

This man, Charlie Robert thought, was like a seasoned knight, with every blow he struck with ferocious speed, as if some deeply repressed anger were slowly unleashed in his every move.When he dismounted from his good horse, he swung his sword like a dancer, but without any fancy extras, and his moves were as deadly as lightning.

The boy had no real opponent until the end of the race, the second rider was also dismounted by him in the first back and forth, the third opponent fell off the horse after his own jab missed, and the fourth opponent was in two back and forth After being punctured by the shield and fell off the horse, the last attendant was quite brave. He persisted for three rounds, and was finally shot in the chest. Antal's spear head was broken into pieces, and his opponent also fell off the horse and lost consciousness. So he won the championship before the fencing competition.

The tourney specially arranged for the Knights Templar's attendants was drawing to a close, and Charlie Robert, who was still unsatisfied, waved his hand, and then whispered something in the ear of the servant who hurried to him.The servant nodded and then disappeared into the crowd, leaving the young king with a smug smile at Archbishop Thomas sitting on his right.

There was thunderous applause and the people saw more spectacle than ever, they cheered the boy and called him a true hero, his name had been mentioned a few times but only now did people try to remember it .

"Antar, son of William Barto!" cried the herald, who seemed very excited himself, and ran up to the champion to raise his hand, but Antar held it down.The champion leaned close to his ear and shouted over the noise of the crowd, what he said made the surprised-looking herald pull his face.

The king couldn't hear what they were saying, he just saw the herald shaking his head and retorting, but the man gave up quickly, shrugged his shoulders, waved his hands angrily, and left the arena.

Antal took off his heavy helmet and threw it on the ground.He took off his turban, and his flushed face had a relaxed expression.The half-length hair is dark brown, and the almost black hair sticks to the crystal sweat on the head.He scanned the audience wearily and happily, then drew his sword again, turned to the knight stand, and cleared his throat and shouted.

"Until I fulfill the oath I once made, I cannot be a champion," he pointed his sword forward, pointing at a young knight, "Adam, I hereby challenge you, in front of all present, in front of A duel before our King Charles and the face of God!"

The audience exclaimed, only the Templars shook their heads, Adam showed a look of shock, and Charlie Robert smiled faintly.

"Accept my challenge," continued Antar, "and let us end our feud here forever!"

Adam didn't say anything, he just stood up and nodded slightly to the people sitting around him as they made way for him.Adam walked into the arena with ease, shook his head, and accepted the challenge.The audience held their breath, and the audience was so quiet that the metallic sound of the Antar sword cutting through the air could be heard.

"You could have been a champion," Adam whispered as he stood before him, drawing his sword, a magnificent weapon perfectly suited to the confidence and ambition of its owner.

"I will still be the champion." Antar's eyes flashed, "As you can see, I have no opponents."

"You regretted it once, remember?"

"I shall be knighted in a few days," Antal replied, "but I cannot take a new oath without fulfilling the previous oath. I forgave you long ago, and respect you as a friend, But it's what I owe her, and it's what you owe me."

"You and your principles," Adam chuckled, and then assumed a standard posture, "Come on, perfect knight, attack!"

Steel on steel, the crowd roared again.

"What a fool!" exclaimed Archbishop Thomas.

"That's reckless," Charlie Robert corrected.

"It's one thing."

"It's not the same thing at all."

"The mass graves are full of reckless fighters," the archbishop turned to him, but still watching the battle out of the corner of his eye. "Your Majesty, you don't really think—"

"I've had enough of thoughtful, ear-scratching bastards who are always waiting to make up their minds, forgetting that they're spending our future treasury!" the king patted the arm of his chair, "I've had enough of not even a sword Fat old men who can’t lift! I will personally end this chaos in the kingdom.”

"You expect him to help?" the archbishop asked, and if there were no one around, he might have started scratching his head. "Only by him?"

"Only him, and others like him," declared Charles Robert, seized by a frenzy he had never known before.He wanted to draw his sword and fight alongside Antar, defeating all who dared attack them.

He decided that one day he would be like him, standing there, sweating in the dust, towering over his defeated opponents, bathed in roaring cheers.People will love him for what he did, not where he came from.Archbishop Thomas said the squire had no brains, but he knew the boy was more than that, and he wanted to be.

The blades collided, and Adam pushed the opponent away hard, causing Antal to fall to the ground.

Antal grunted involuntarily, and the ground slapped him heavily on the back, as if to stop his madness.

Adam swung his sword, trying to teach Antar a lesson with his blade, but the boy's Saracen rose with untraceable speed to parry the attack.Antal half-kneeled on the ground, caught the attack again, and rushed towards Adam again, even more ferociously than before.

Antal decided to give the remaining strength to this attack, and he couldn't last long.He thought of his duel with his uncle at Dubica's estate a long time ago, with those bloody lead swords heavier than steel.

He pretended to step forward with his right foot, but he stepped out with his left foot, which was completely opposite to what his opponent expected.Adam narrowly dodged the slash, but Antar continued to attack, he switched hands and grabbed the hilt of the sword with his left hand, spinning quickly to Adam's side, he blocked Adam's upward thrust with lightning speed, and then gracefully put his own Throwing the sword back to the right, he bewildered his opponent with his dancing steps, and the final blow knocked the weapon out of Adam's hand.

He put the bent blade against Adam's throat, and kicked away the belt dagger that his opponent was reaching for, and knocked him down with another kick.Adam fell on his back with a thud, and Antal, with a weary smile, placed the sword at his throat again.

"I fulfilled my oath," he said, "do you accept failure?"

Adam didn't answer, just nodded silently, and the fanatical crowd burst into louder cheers, they had never seen such a thing: a servant humiliated a sworn knight, they were mad with excitement, many people rushed into the Tournament ring, throwing the boy on his shoulders to celebrate his victory.

By the time the herald could finally declare the champion, Antal was long gone, and everyone followed him.People are not interested in flattery, they just want to hear from heroes.

(End of this chapter)