Chapter 133: One Bad Step
Kael’s hand was locked around Arthur’s wrist in a vise grip.
Arthur had caught Kael’s weapon arm just as firmly. For a breathless second, they were pressed chest-to-chest near the edge of the mat, both men fighting desperately for leverage as their boots scraped across the surface.
Kael grinned right in his face, his eyes alight with competition. "Got you."
Arthur, already shifting his footing underneath the grapple, stared right back.
"Maybe."
Kael started forcing Arthur’s dagger arm slowly away from the scoring line. Arthur resisted just enough to keep Kael pushing, then began turning with the heavy forward pressure, dragging the clinch sideways across the mat.
Kael drove harder, trying to overwhelm the shift with raw strength, and Arthur gave another half-step under the pressure. The movement dragged them far enough sideways that Kael’s next boot landed dangerously close to the boundary.
Not out yet, but close enough to matter.
Kael noticed instantly. He stopped his forward drive and tried forcefully reversing their positions.
The clinch turned messy. Kael released Arthur’s wrist for half a second as he tried to turn him around. Arthur’s dagger snapped forward, forcing Kael to jam the arm aside with his forearm before the touch could land. Kael’s sword arm came free in the chaos, and Arthur had to duck sharply away from the incoming strike.
They separated, breathing hard, only a step or two apart.
Kael laughed once, the sound considerably more irritated than amused.
"Trying to throw me out?" Kael asked, resetting his stance.
Arthur kept moving. "Would it work?"
Kael came after him again, but his pursuit stopped a little shorter this time. His eyes flicked once toward the boundary before he stepped across Arthur’s path.
Arthur changed direction again and found Kael already there. The aggressive chasing had tightened into something more patient now, with Kael waiting for Arthur to move before closing the route.
They traded another series of fast, grinding exchanges. Arthur managed to slip inside once and found a threatening dagger line. Kael shut it down brutally, shifting his weight and landing another clean touch across Arthur’s arm.
The whistle shrieked.
Kael’s lead was growing again.
Arthur returned to his mark breathing harder. Kael had spent most of the match crashing into him whenever the distance disappeared, and the repeated collisions were finally starting to add up.
Emily’s expression tightened in the stands. Gareth watched in silence.
Across the ring, Kael’s grin returned. When the whistle restarted them, he came forward harder.
Another heavy collision caught Arthur along the side and left a fresh ache spreading beneath the wraps. His next retreat came a little slower than he intended as Kael drove him backward again.
Kael pressed harder.
Arthur let him.
Arthur backed toward the right side—the exact same side where Kael had repeatedly been cutting off his escape route. The position looked almost identical to the trap from moments earlier.
Arthur began the same directional change he had used before, and Kael immediately stepped inward to meet it, bringing his guard across to shut down the expected entry. Arthur carried the movement straight past him instead, slipping around the outside of Kael’s weapon line before he could recover.
Kael twisted after him fast enough to deny the clean throat touch, and they crashed together again.
Kael caught Arthur’s dagger forearm and trapped it inside the clinch. Their bodies slammed together hard enough to knock the breath from Arthur, and Kael immediately started muscling him backward across the mat.
Arthur planted one foot and turned sharply with Kael’s forward drive. Kael’s next step went wide as he fought to recover his balance without giving Arthur room, and for one brief moment the throat line opened.
Arthur’s blunted dagger got there first.
The whistle blew.
Kael’s short sword stopped only inches from Arthur’s chest.
Both men froze in the clinch, chests heaving, sweat dripping onto the mat.
The referee stepped between them, broke the clinch, and pointed toward Arthur.
The noise from the Thorne section rose immediately. Arthur barely registered it over his own breathing. His hand was still clenched around the dagger, and it took him a second to remember to lower it.
Kael stayed near the edge of the ring after the call, staring down at the mat for a few seconds.
Arthur remained bent over with his hands on his knees, trying to get his breathing under control.
Kael eventually dragged a hand through his damp hair and muttered something Arthur was probably better off not hearing.
After a few seconds, Kael came back over, still looking thoroughly irritated. "I still beat you in the yard."
Arthur leaned on his knees, panting. "Keep that one."
Kael looked mildly offended. "I plan to."
He offered his hand. Arthur took it in a firm grip, and they walked off the mat together.
Emily’s eyes went straight to Arthur’s ribs as she reached them outside the corridor. He was still upright, barely, so she turned to Kael and gave him a hard clap on the shoulder.
"You almost had him."
"I know," Kael muttered.
Adrian joined them a moment later. "That was close."
"I noticed," Arthur wheezed.
Gareth walked up behind Adrian. He looked at Arthur, then at Kael.
"Good match."
Kael gave his father a suspicious look, apparently trying to decide whether those two words contained criticism. Gareth gave him nothing else to work with.
Seraphina took one look at Arthur and sent him toward the tournament healers before he could argue.
The healer assigned to the competitors gave him a quick examination, pressing along his side and shoulder while Arthur tried not to react too obviously. Nothing was broken. Most of what Kael had left behind was bruising, strained muscle, and the accumulated soreness of several hard matches.
A short restorative spell took care of the worst of it, followed by a small healing draught that spread a steady warmth through Arthur’s chest and shoulder. The sharper aches faded within minutes, leaving behind stiffness rather than actual pain.
"You’ll still feel the match tonight," the healer warned him. "By tomorrow morning, you should be fine unless you decide to do something stupid before then."
Arthur considered the odds of that.
They were not encouraging.
Emily’s side of the bracket was still one round behind Arthur’s. Her name had already appeared opposite Corwin Vale’s on the updated board for the quarterfinal, with Adrian waiting for the winner in the evening semifinal.
Emily stayed while the healer finished with him, checking the time often enough that Arthur finally looked over.
"You’re fighting soon," Arthur noted, watching her check the time.
"I know," Emily said.
"Then stop staring at me like I’m dying."
Emily’s eyes moved over the fresh wrap around his side. "You looked worse ten minutes ago."
"Very supportive," Arthur replied dryly.
She leaned down, kissed him quickly, and finally left to prepare for her own match.
By the time Arthur was cleared and wandered back toward the viewing area, Kael had cooled down. He was sitting in the stands with a massive plate of food.
A minute later, Kael shoved a piece of bread toward him.
Arthur took it.
He settled into the seat carefully. The healing draught had done its job, though the muscles along his side still felt stiff whenever he moved too quickly. Kael glanced at the fresh wrapping and wisely kept his mouth shut for once.
Neither mentioned the match again as Emily’s name was called over the arena speakers.
Corwin Vale stepped onto the mat.
Corwin glanced toward the stands and quickly spotted Arthur with fresh wrapping around his ribs and Kael beside him.
Corwin offered Kael a mild smile. "Again?"
Kael immediately became offended, pointing half a piece of bread aggressively toward the ring.
Emily arrived before Kael could start arguing. Corwin’s teasing expression faded once Emily stepped onto the mat.
"Don’t look so pleased," Emily told him, securing her blunted competition saber.
"I was hoping for Kael," Corwin admitted calmly.
"Fight me after!" Kael shouted from the stands.
Emily told both of them to shut up.
"Emily Thorne. Corwin Vale. Ring One."
Emily took the initiative immediately, pressing Corwin with the same aggressive close-range style Arthur had seen countless times in the dojo.
Corwin gave ground only when Emily forced him to, changing his angle and returning an attack as soon as her pressure carried past him.
Emily knew some of his habits. She caught him once during an exchange, landing a clean, heavy touch against his shoulder.
Corwin stepped back with a small smile.
Emily didn’t celebrate the point. She was already resetting her feet before the referee cleared them to continue, her attention fixed entirely on Corwin.
When they came together again, Corwin held his guard slightly tighter on the side Emily had just exploited. Emily attacked the same opening. This time, the opening was completely gone. Corwin shifted his guard, caught her blade for an instant, and answered with a clean touch of his own.
Emily adjusted her pressure and began driving Corwin steadily toward the edge. He gave up ground under the repeated attacks, turning away from one strike and narrowly catching another before Emily crowded him again. Arthur watched closely as the space behind Corwin continued disappearing.
Corwin retreated another two steps, and something about it began bothering Arthur. Earlier, Corwin had fought for every useful angle Emily tried to take from him. Now, he was moving exactly where she wanted him to go.
Emily pressed the advantage, following him toward the boundary with her saber already coming around for the next attack.
Corwin changed direction.
He slipped sharply off her line just as she committed. Emily’s saber cut through empty space, and the momentum of her advance carried her a step farther than she wanted. She turned quickly, trying to recover her guard, but Corwin was already coming back from the new angle.