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Date Posted: 02:21:39 03/13/00 Mon
Author: Sir Dragzfuth
Subject: From one battle to the next. (day 3 final installment)

Cheers of the crowd grew louder, praising in the honor of reestablished King Belamane, and his champion,
Sir Magan of Dragzfuth. Most men among two warring parties gladly accepted the outcome, with only few of the more fanatic Justin supporters not sharing the enthusiasm of the rest.

Belamore, King again, cast a look and a hint of smile formed on his face to see that his minions have all but forgotten him even after all these years. Turning back to the site of the battle, his face faded back to seriousness again however.
One battle won, but cost for the victor was only beginning to take its toll. The young knight still knelt in the circle, apparently oblivious of what was going on around him.
"Should I call for some medical assistance your majesty?" Sir Fyale spoke to the king. "For all we know Justin's blade may have been poisoned... and he did receive severe wounds..."

"I fear his fight is now not with the poisoning of the body... but one of his soul..."
sighed Belamore. "Still, he needs medical assistance as well." He called out to a page. "See to it that Sir Dragzfuth is provided the neccesary medical care and anything else he might need."
Turning back to Sir Fyale, he spoke on. "Come, my friend, we need to get ready for the siege now..."

"BELamane!", words echoed through the cheers of the crowd.
Magan was back on his feet, leaning on his sword, his face and clothes covered in blood... more an image of a beaten man then a champion in battle. His eyes lost the inhuman glitter, but they did not turn to normal either... there was an emptiness to them now...
"We still aren't done Belamane" His voice broke... "But for now, that can wait..."
Straining, he let go of the sword, and stood firmly on his wounded leg, a grimace of pain on his face.
"For now... I want you lead us to battle. Many among us have a score to settle with the horde I am sure."

"Magan, you need to rest now, we can discuss this later, but if you plan to fight, your health needs to be taken care of first", Belamore replied softly.

"Indeed...", the knight noted, taking an uneasy step. "Knights of the six", he spoke turning to the four knights still standing next to the scene of the duel, his movement normal again, as if he was not injured at all.
"You served under Lord Justin for years now... by his defeat... I HEREBY TAKE COMMAND OF THE Six TO LEAD THEM INTO BATTLE", he continued, his voice falling back into cold thundering tone that demanded obedience, holding his sword up high.
Sir Taleoron looked back at the young knight, pausing a few moments, then knelt and put his sword down in front of him. "I pledge my honor and sword to thine leadership Sir Dragzfuth."
Sir Pennet and Sir Cadriewen shared a glance, then followed the example of their former leader.
Sir Garth's mouth went wide with this display, and he released a roaring laughter. "The Six, to be led by a boy...". He smiled widely to Magan, and then knelt himself. "Sire, after your display of courage and swordsmanship, I would follow you straight to hell if need be. My sword follows your command now."

"Sir Fyale", Magan turned to the old knight standing with Belamore.
"Your sword would make the order of Six complete again. Would you consider joining our ranks?"

Sir Fyale let out a small gasp of surprise at those words, then turned to Belamore for advice.
The old king simply noded to the question in knights eyes.

Sir Fyale looked at Magan again. "It will be great honor for me to fight as a knight of the Six in the upcoming battle, if you truly wish to join your swords with mine, Sir Dragzfuth."
Magan's dark face brightened up a bit for a moment.
"I assure you, the honor is all mine Sire. But now... if you will all excuse me, I...", a strain of pain flashed over his face, as the power of mind let go to the body again... and the newly assigned leader of the Six collapsed unconsciouss.

***

Much later that day, the preparation for the coming Tancan onslaught were in full motion. Siege defenses were being readied, and soldiers were arming civil volunteers for the battle... Night fell over the castle of Canaday as Belamore walked the battlements, supervising the preparations.
Belamore slowly limped up one of the observation towers, only to find someone had already gotten up there... A lone figure was standing at the wall, gazing into the distance.

"Magan? Are you not supposed to be resting, healing your wounds?", king asked sympathetically.
Leaning heavily on the wall, the knight turned, his words showing traces of inner struggle.
"I have wounds... far deeper then that to fight with... Your majesty". His eyes occasionally flickered with green only to fade back to empty, void look.

Belamore said nothing but put a hand on the lad's shoulder.
"Sire... in day or two, the Tancan will strike. If I am not killed in battle... I may need to ask you to do it for me...", Magan spoke through his teeth.

"You cannot be serious Magan", Belamore replied with dread.

"I...", the knight looked far into the distance again. "They say this sword... much of its magic is thanks to the owner himself...", sighing heavily his head bowed. "What... if that owner's magic is malice and dark to begin with? What if Risper was right and I really belong to the same place he does..."
His eyes burned green again.
"Sire... you better leave me now...", he finished, a tone of warning in his voice.

Belamore heeded the warning, and turned to walk away, unease in his mind. The duel may have been over, but for the victor, his battle was only beginning.

...continued...

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