Chapter 34

It took Emeric nearly three months before he was battle worthy.  The first had been hell.  Calvert had made it his personal task to train Emeric.  His methods made Marven look like a puppy.  The training broke Emeric more than it built him up.  His wounds recovered at a snails pace and Emeric was physically deteriorating. 

His body had suffered during those treacherous four weeks, but as the second month dawned, things took a turn for the better.  Emeric's body started adjusting to the grueling hours of exercise and combat training.  His wounds were healed, only scar tissue remained.  A constant warning of the danger that awaited him in the Dome.

However, it was during the third month that Calvert noticed a change in Emeric.  Calvert was the living definition of a sword-master.  He had all the natural instincts that made him an exceptional warrior.  Emeric relished on the fact that he would never have to face Calvert in the Dome.  After three months of brawling with the older man, he hadn't managed to beat him once.

But one day, as Emeric and Calvert fought with wooden practice swords, things turned out a little differently than usual.  Emeric was fighting valiantly against his horrid trainer.  He attacked right and left with over-head and undercut strikes.  Precipitation glinted off of his skin after hours of training under the hot sun.  They were both breathing heavily.  The fight had lasted nearly twenty minutes, and neither were ready to call quits.

Emeric feinted an overhead from his left, and as Calvert brought his own weapon up to block the blow.  Emeric thrusted at Calvert's neck with a flick of his wrist.  To Emeric's surprise, the blow made contact with a sickening slapping sound.

Calvert staggered backwards, choking as he clutched his neck.  Emeric, driven by his anger towards the Dome Keeper, struck with a lethal side cut that knocked Calvert to the ground. The Dome Keeper tried getting to his feet.  He was fuming with rage at the fact that Emeric had managed to land not just one, but two blows.

However, before Calvert could right himself, Emeric brought the practice sword down on his back with all the might of his upper body.  The blow was hard enough to garb a cry of pain out of the stone cold man.  For some strange reason, Emeric almost felt joy from his tormentor's pain.

Calvert furiously sprang to his feet, one hand clutching his back.  His hateful eyes landed on Emeric who held his weapon in a relaxed grip.  He watched Calvert with an expressionless face. 

"Get him." Calvert ordered his guards who stood a few paces away.  They instantly rushed forward and grabbed Emeric's arms.  He didn't resist as they wrenched the sword from his grip and cuffed his hands behind his back.  He had done what Calvert had trained him to do over the past few months.  He had defeated the best swordsman in Scoalgeoc. 

Calvert glared at Emeric, "How dare you attack me." He reprimanded accusingly.  Emeric met his furious gaze with an expressionless façade.

"I did what you wanted me to do.  Deep down you want me to be better than you, because then I won't come up against someone who can beat me in the Dome."  Emeric said as his eyes bored into Calvert's. 

A deep frown crossed Calvert's forehead, but he didn't reply.  Emeric had been right.  A few seconds of silence passed as the Rogue and the Dome Keeper glared at each other valiantly, willing the other to be the first to lower their gaze.

"Take him to his cell.  We're done here." Calvert announced.  And with that said, he turned his aching back on Emeric to leave the training square. 

"Rest well tonight, Rogue.  Tomorrow is your first Victors battle."  Calvert called over his shoulder as he passed through the large set of doors.

*****

Emeric's eyes traveled over the assortment of weapons that were lined on the racks in front of him.  'So much to choose from.' He mused as he took in the perfect quality of them.  He only had a few minutes to make his choice before he would be ushered into the Dome.  A privilege that came with being a Victor was that he could choose his own weapon.

He turned to Calvert who stood waiting at the door to the weaponry.  "No bow?" Emeric asked almost mockingly, a reminder of the day when Emeric had nearly killed the man of status.  Calvert met him with a stone cold glare, "Don't push your luck." 

Emeric hid a smirk as he turned away.  He could hear the buzz of excitement as the crowds mulled into the stands.  Emeric made his choice before Calvert could tell him to move his behind.  He chose a glinting broadsword.  The weapon had a comforting weight in his grip, but was perfectly balanced to prevent his wrists from tiering during a battle. 

With his preferred weapon in hand, Emeric was led into the Dome.  The glass dome over head quivered as spectators cheared him on.  It had been months since they had seen him and they were looking forward to see him spill blood once more.

Emeric waited for the guards to put the chain on, only to realize that there wasn't one attached to the pole. Another quirk of being a Victor.

Emeric's heart thundered in his chest as memories clouded his mind. He remembered the hook spear sinking into his shoulder. The memory of his flesh ripping sent shivers through him.

His eyes involuntarily traveled to his opponent.  He had few impressive features and seemed like an average man in his thirties, but Emeric had learned from past experience not to judge a book by its cover.  The man, after all, was in the Victors rounds.

The sounding horn blasted the silence away and signaled the coming end of another Domer's life.  For a split second Emeric was about to jump up and climb the chain out of habit.  He grunted at his own ignorance and charged at his opponent who was already sprinting towards him. 

Contrasting to Emeric's long, broad-sword, the other Domer held an elegantly curved, short sword.  Emeric knew that he would be in trouble if the man stepped in close.  His broadsword would be hard to maneuver at close quarters.  He would just have to keep the man a few feet away at all times.

Sparks flew into the air as their swords struck against each other.  With a grunt, Emeric deflected the Domer's blade.  The rival in return attacked with a series of blinding thrusts and side-cuts that forced Emeric to move back as his opponent tried getting in close.

Before the Domer could throw another offensive move, Emeric surprised him as he kicked the opponent's knee.  He grunted in pain and wobbled out of Emeric's reach as his leg nearly gave away under his weight. 

Emeric immediately followed up with an overhead strike.  The Domer desperately brought his own weapon up to deflect the blow, but the power behind it wasn't what he had expected...At contact, the short sword was driven out of the Domer's grip. 

Emeric watched the man as his eyes grew wide with shock.  However, before Emeric could finish him off, the Domer leapt at Emeric and tackled him to the ground.  His hands wrapped around Emeric's throat as he pinned the Rogue down. 

Emeric grunted as he tried throwing the Domer off, but he was heavier than he appeared.  Trying a different tactic of escape, Emeric slammed the hilt of his sword into the Domer's ribcage.  He grunted, but didn't relinquish his hold on Emeric's throat.

Emeric couldn't breath and his vision was starting to fade.  He had to act quickly.

Emeric twisted the sword in his grip and drove it into the Domer's side.  With a cry of pain, the rival fell off of Emeric.  He lay on his side, blood staining the pale dust around him.  Emeric stood up, sucking in desperate breaths.

His eyes fell to the man laying on the floor.  He was clutching at his wound, but the blood slipped through his figures.  The pained expression on the Domer's face unsettled Emeric.  It wasn't his way in the Dome to leave someone suffering. 

Emeric retrieved the short sword that lay discarded a few feet away.  As he approached his opponent with a new weapon in hand, the man started pushing himself away from the Rogue with his legs.  He wasn't ready to die, not when he was so close to earning his freedom.

Emeric sank down to his haunches next to the Domer's head. 

"I'm sorry, but I have a promise to keep."

With a swift yet reluctant move, Emeric dropped onto his opponent and slit his throat to end his suffering.  A few gurgled breaths escaped the man's lips before his body went limp as death took him.

The crowds went wild as Emeric stood up with the blood stained weapon still in hand.  His eyes were fixed on the corpse by his feet.

With a sigh he turned away, accepting for the first time that he was doing to right thing.  Killing in the Dome wasn't making him a monster, it proved his loyalty to Kedo.  It represented the extent that he would go to in order to protect those he cared for.

And beware to those who tried to stop him or get in his way of doing so...