“There you are, Sammy!”
A loud mocking voice cut him off.
A tall red-haired youth emerged from among the trees, dressed in an expensive doublet and carrying a wooden practice sword.
“Oh no…” Arthur’s companion went pale.
His name, apparently, was Sam.
“Not again.”
“What is it?” Arthur asked.
But Sam did not answer.
He clutched the book to his chest as the approaching bully casually swung his wooden sword.
“Well, little pig?” Horas laughed.
“Time for another beating.
Let’s hear how loudly you squeal today.”
“Leave him alone,” Arthur called.
“Peacefully.”
The frightened boy behind him clearly needed help.
Arthur’s dream of becoming a knight had dimmed with time, but he still felt compelled to protect someone so obviously unable to defend himself.
He and the red-haired youth were roughly the same size, though Arthur was a little leaner.
Besides, he had faced Ironborn.
Why should he fear this…
Who was this fellow, anyway?
Only then did Arthur glance at the words floating above the youth’s head.
“What?” the red-haired boy said, genuinely surprised.
He came closer.
His square, freckled face stretched in disbelief before turning crimson.
“Did you just say that to me, peasant?
Do you even know who I am?”
To his misfortune, Arthur did.
Horas Redwyne.
Paxter’s Heir.
Level ###
The son of the lord who ruled these lands.
“Hells…” Arthur muttered as he realized exactly what sort of trouble he had stepped into.
“You dare talk back to me, barefoot wretch?
I’ll teach you some manners!”
Horas charged him with the practice sword.
Arthur leapt aside.
He had no idea what to do.
Strike a lord’s son?
So he simply dodged.
Arthur barely managed to avoid the sweeping blows as the wooden sword cut through the air.
Despite his crude fighting style, Horas moved quickly and with the confidence of someone long accustomed to such amusements.
One solid hit could easily break a bone.
Fortunately, the orphan was faster.
“Why are you running like a girl?” the red-haired heir sneered, aiming a strike at Arthur’s ribs.
Arthur jumped clear at the last instant.
He clenched his teeth.
If this were a real fight, he might have had a chance.
But fighting a lord’s son?
Victory would bring trouble.
Defeat would bring even worse.
The situation felt hopeless.
His best option was simply to escape.
“Please stop…”
Arthur saw his new acquaintance standing nearby, clutching the book to his chest and shifting nervously from foot to foot.
The boy clearly wanted to help.
He was broad, even taller than Horas.
But fear held him fast.
Horas swung again.
Arthur tried to circle around him and reach the road below, but the heir anticipated the maneuver.
His strikes were fast, though hardly precise.
The bastard was clearly accustomed to opponents who never fought back.
“What?
All you know how to do is run?” Horas mocked.
Arthur gritted his teeth and kept dodging.
Anger simmered within him.
Was he really supposed to let this pampered fool beat him?
“Leave him alone…” Sam repeated.
Horas ignored him completely.
He was driving Arthur backward, cornering him.
At last Sam stepped between them.
The practice sword immediately struck his arm.
With a pained cry, he dropped the book.
“And you can only attack people who aren’t armed?” Arthur shouted while retreating.
“Oh, how touching!” Horas burst out laughing.
“A peasant defending a fat little pig!
What next?
Going to kiss him?”
The laughter.
The contempt.
They ignited something fierce within Arthur.
Without thinking, he stepped toward the opening in Horas’s defense.
Then he came to his senses and tried to retreat.
Too late.
Horas brought the sword down in a sweeping arc.
The tip scraped across Arthur’s forearm.
A sharp burning pain sliced through his skin.
“You…” Arthur hissed.
He jumped backward and slammed into a tree.
Horas grinned and attacked again.
Arthur tried to dodge, but a root caught his foot.
He lost his balance and crashed to the ground.
He immediately tried to rise.
The wooden sword struck his back with a crack.
Pain exploded across his skin.
“Oh dear, the peasant’s stopped hopping!” Horas mocked as he raised the weapon again.
Arthur clenched his teeth.
Another blow struck his shoulder.
Then his side.
He raised his arms to shield himself.
“What?
Giving up already?
Not even going to fight back?
Pathetic.”
Before he could strike again, a roar split the air.
“ENOUGH!”
Sam’s voice thundered through the grove.
The next instant, his thick arms slammed into Horas’s chest.
The red-haired heir had no time to react.
He flew backward, stumbled, and crashed face-first into a tree.
A sickening crack sounded.
Then came a scream.
“AAAH!
MY NOSE!”
Blood immediately poured through his fingers.
The wooden sword dropped from his hand as he clutched his face.
“You’ll pay for that!” Horas shrieked.
He spun around.
But Arthur, fighting through the pain, was already on his feet.
He snatched up the practice sword before Horas could reach it.
“Well?” Arthur said with a grim smile, raising the weapon.
“We can keep going if you’d like.”
Pain and fury shook his body.
Had Horas taken another step forward, Arthur doubted he could have restrained himself.
Horas glared at him with pure hatred.
Then he noticed Sam standing beside Arthur, fists clenched, his round face still trembling with emotion.
The heir reconsidered.
“You’ll regret this,” he hissed while backing away.
“Both of you.
My father will hear of this.”
Then he turned and fled, one hand clamped over his broken nose.
Arthur let out a long breath and looked toward Sam.
“You know,” he said, still breathing hard, “that was brave.”
The bruises would be spectacular, but nothing seemed broken.
“I…
I just…” Sam stammered, staring at his own trembling hands.
“You just threw him into a tree,” Arthur replied with a grin, concealing his immense relief.
As far as Arthur was concerned, he had never actually touched Horas.
That meant nobody could blame him.
And surely the heir of House Tarly would be safe as well.
After all, Horas had attacked first.
Only then did Arthur read the words floating above Sam’s head.
Sam nodded in a daze before offering a shy smile.
“Yes…
I suppose I did.”
Carefully, he picked up the dusty tome from the ground.
Then, after a moment’s thought, he added:
“Thank you…
Though I just realized we never even introduced ourselves.”
“Yeah, that is funny.” Arthur laughed.
“I’m Arthur…”
Caught up in the moment, he gave his full name.
They would not remain on this island for long, so surely no harm would come of it.
“Sam.”
The plump boy extended a soft but surprisingly firm hand.
Arthur took it.
A/N:
While everyone else is waiting for updates, com / Captain_Lag (remove the spaces)