Who's Got the Touch

Having never attended the Golden Harvest before, Martel did not know what to expect, but he knew that he could hardly wait. The excited conversations about the spectacle, shared by the other students familiar with the games, served to raise his anticipation. The early bells of the day moved at a snail's pace before it finally became noon and he could leave, just as most acolytes and novices at the Lyceum did. They moved like a swarm towards the square of the Basilica, soon mingling with all the other people going to watch the spectacle.

Martel quickly realised that finding Shadi would be a struggle amidst such a crowd, with the middle of the square kept open for the games and everyone else pressed along the sides. He made his way towards a monument for some emperor and jumped onto the pedestal, giving him a better view. His eyes searched the crowds until a brown arm waved at him.

Relieved, he jumped down and pushed through the throng, incurring several angry remarks on his way. Ignoring them, he finally reached Shadi, who greeted him with a smile. "You won't believe how many I had to fend off trying to steal my spot!" She stood by the fence, giving them an excellent view of the square.

"I'm very grateful for your hard work."

She grinned. "Any of your friends participating in the games today?"

He nodded. "Yes, Maximilian is. I've helped him practice, so if he wins, I'm claiming at least a sliver of the glory for myself."

"What of your other friend, what's her name, Eleanor?"

"I don't know. I guess we'll see."

~

More than a hundred mageknights had joined for the archery competition. They would be split into rounds of ten contestants each, and only one would advance from each.

The archers were divided by age, meaning all the participating acolytes of the Lyceum were in the first round. The ten archers took position by their flag in one end of the square with their targets in the other. Martel glanced towards the Basilica, in front of which stood the stands. He wondered if the emperor himself sat in attendance, though at this distance, it was impossible to see.

"Oh, there's Maximilian! So exciting, I've never had reason to cheer for someone in the games before," Shadi said.

Martel watched his friend stick three arrows in the ground for swift retrieval once the contest began. Other archers did likewise, though one of them found time to approach and talk with the other archers. Martel could not be certain of his features, but like with Maximilian, he could recognise the crest on his clothes. Assuming no other noble wore a horse for an emblem, the talkative acolyte had to be Cheval. He bent down to look at Maximilian's arrows before an official ushered him to his own position.

In the other end of the range, thirty discs began rising into the air. Each had been marked with symbols corresponding to the flag behind an archer.

"How exactly is the winner determined? Maximilian was a bit vague."

"Every archer has three arrows and three plates to shoot down. Winner is the one to do it fastest and goes to the next round. You miss, you're out," Shadi explained.

"Let's hope at least one person hits all three, then."

~

"My lords and ladies, gentle people of Morcaster, today the Golden Harvest begins!" The herald's words were met by cheers. "Our gratitude to the Gamblers' Guild for sponsoring the games!" Applause followed. "Without further words, let us begin! Archers at the ready!"

The ten mageknights held their bows, waiting for the signal. In the other end, the many plates swirled up and down in unpredictable patterns.

"Release!"

It happened so fast, Martel's eyes could not keep up. Arrow after arrow whistled through the air, striking the discs with a loud, metallic sound. Those hit mid-centre fell to the ground from the impact.

Martel watched as the first of Maximilian's plates fell. The second followed rapidly. As for the third, the arrow did not even strike close. Disappointment filled him, and he could only imagine how his friend felt.

He looked at the archers, trying to discern their emblems and what had happened. He suddenly recognised one of them to be Eleanor. From the looks of her dejected walk, she had not won either.

The herald answered his question. "As winner of our first round we have Lord Guillaume of Cheval!"

Martel's entire face turned inside out. It had to be him.

"That's a shame about Maximilian. It would have been nice to see him advance," Shadi considered.

"It would."

They watched as a new line of archers filed in, preparing for the next round.

~

It took a few hours for the remainder of the contest to finish, given the number of rounds and contestants. In the end, an old mageknight took the prize; given how the crowds chanted his name, this did not seem a surprising outcome. The spectacle complete, Martel turned towards Shadi.

"That was fun," she said. "Now your priests are going to do some boring rituals to bless the harvest or something. Nothing to do with me." She grinned.

"I guess I should find Maximilian. He must be disappointed."

"Yeah, probably. I think I have some friends from the district around here, I'll go with them. But tomorrow, we can watch the battle?"

He nodded. "Sounds great."

~

Martel found Maximilian at the evening meal. Regardless of anger or disappointment, the mageknight would not let a meal slip by, which the novice completely understood.

As others wisely kept their distance, Martel sat down opposite Maximilian at the otherwise empty table. "I'm sorry you lost," he said tentatively.

"Those damnable arrows failed me!" His outburst attracted stares from the nearest students. "My father gave me that gold because I promised I would win! That blue-eyed bastard swindled me!"

Ignoring the remark, Martel considered what might have happened. "You weren't the only mageknight to buy arrows from him. Considering Cheval won, and I assume he's a terrible shot, do you think he also bought them?"

"I suppose so, but that does not change the fact that one of mine failed," Maximilian growled.

"But it does mean that Cheval would have received the same warning as you. I saw him talking to you and a few others, inspecting your arrows just before. It would not have been difficult to palm a gold coin in his hand and brush up against the haft."

Maximilian narrowed his eyes hearing Martel's words. "That Nether-born bastard!"

"Does it help if I tell you he failed miserably in the final round?"

The mageknight sat for a moment until a smile finally dawned. "It does. A little."

"Are you competing again tomorrow?"

"No, on the second day, the Legio Urbis recreates a famous battle. It changes every year which one. But we can watch the whole affair from my family's stand. "

"Oh," Martel remarked awkwardly. "I told Shadi I'd watch it with her."

Maximilian shrugged. "She hardly takes up much space. Now, are you coming? I need to wash down this disappointment with the strongest stout at The Golden Goose!"

Martel rose. "Ready at your command."