The Fixed Match (2)

"Enno, are you sure this is okay?" Jinn asked, now clad in heavy chainmail, a giant helmet with a red feather on his head, and a robe emblazoned with a red bird pattern.

"Don't worry, no one will recognize you like this," Norn said, pushing Jinn, who was now covered head-to-toe with only a slit for his eyes, onto the horse.

"I'm not talking about that," Jinn replied, struggling to climb onto the warhorse, which stamped its hoof in irritation before Jinn could calm it down.

"I'm talking about the fact that impersonating a noble is a capital offense!" Jinn voiced his concern.

"Trust me, it's just between you, me, and Sir Eck. No one else will say a word," Norn assured him, handing over a specially designed blunt-headed lance for the jousting competition.

"But I've never learned how to charge with a lance while riding," Jinn said with a hint of bitterness.

"You don't need to. Just hold the lance and keep riding. Don't get knocked off the horse," Norn said nonchalantly. "Remember, it doesn't matter if you don't hit anyone. Protect yourself with your shield, and make sure to look up during the pass to avoid getting hit by splinters in the eye."

"Ah! It's that complicated," Jinn hesitated. "How about you do it instead?"

"No choice. I'm just too short," Norn sighed. After all, he was only 13 years old and barely over 5 feet tall. Jinn, at 5 feet 7 inches, was the only one who met the requirements.

"You can do it! Sir Jinn," Norn grinned widely, showing his teeth, and encouraged him.

Perhaps the word "knight" had its effect, because Jinn steeled his resolve and sat firmly on the horse as Norn led it slowly into the arena.

Back to 20 minutes earlier, inside the knight's camp.

"Sorry to eavesdrop, but it seems like the knight is in a bit of a bind," Norn called out loudly from outside the tent.

The conversation inside the tent paused, and then a chubby squire, looking nervous, came out. After checking that no one was around, he quickly ushered Norn into the tent.

As soon as Norn entered, he noticed a young man sitting on the bed, his chest wrapped in thick bandages, one of which was already stained red near the armpit. By his feet was a basin, also stained red with blood.

Despite his pale complexion, the young man tried to maintain an air of authority and asked, "Who are you?"

"Allow me to introduce myself," Norn bowed and said, "I am Enno, the squire of an unfortunate knight who missed the registration."

The young man, Sir Eck, perked up at the mention of another knight and asked eagerly, "What does your knight look like?"

"About the same size as you," Norn replied without hesitation.

This made Sir Eck pause. He had been training for years to make a name for himself and win recognition. He had fought his way through several opponents and was on the verge of winning the championship when he was struck and severely injured.

Giving up the championship that was within reach was out of the question, but competing in his injured state posed a significant risk to his life.

Sir Eck was torn between his desire to win and the danger of competing while injured. The squire's offer presented a new solution.

After much thought, Sir Eck finally spoke, "Where is your knight this morning?"

Norn knew he had a chance and replied slowly, "My knight, Sir Jinn, missed the registration and has been drinking in the tent all morning. I've been taking care of him."

Sir Eck nodded in satisfaction and then asked, "I feel a kinship with Sir Jinn. Is there anything he needs help with?"

Norn smiled and said, "Sir Jinn is planning to head to Bordeaux to seek opportunities, but he's short on travel funds."

"I believe 25 gold nomis should be more than enough to help Sir Jinn," Sir Eck said with a gentle smile.

"I think 30 would be more appropriate. Sir Jinn's armor will need repairs along the way," Norn countered.

Sir Eck handed a purse to Norn and asked, "Can you make decisions for your knight?"

"I have a very close relationship with Sir Jinn. He'll listen to me," Norn assured him.

Sir Eck looked Norn up and down, especially at his youthful face, before slowly saying, "I hope you keep your word."

Back at the tournament grounds, the knights were ready to go again.

As the herald waved the flag to signal the start, the crowd erupted in cheers once more, ready to witness the birth of a champion.

Seeing the other knight charging towards him, Norn slapped Jinn's horse on the rump.

"Go, Sir Jinn!"

Jinn gritted his teeth, struggling to keep his balance on the galloping horse. The lance in his hand was shaking violently, making his whole arm go numb.

As the distance closed, the other knight's lance, which had been held at an angle, began to level out, pointing directly at Jinn's head.

"Level the lance!" Norn shouted anxiously. If Jinn couldn't even level his lance, he'd be an easy target for the opponent and would surely be knocked off the horse.

"I wish I could, but I can't!" Jinn thought frantically. Just keeping his balance on the galloping horse was a challenge, let alone keeping the lance steady.

The image of the knight's invincible charge flashed through Jinn's mind, that god-like figure etched deeply into his memory.

"I can do this!" Jinn clenched his teeth, and suddenly his body began to move rhythmically with the horse's gallop. His feet started to rise and fall in sync, and the shaking of the lance in his hand began to subside.

Just before the clash, Jinn leveled the lance as if he had suddenly understood.

"Bang!"

"Don't! My Eck!" A noble girl stood up in a panic, her eyes wide with worry as she watched the knight with the red feather.

Jinn's helmet was struck hard, denting it significantly. Jinn felt as if he had been punched by a 300-pound man. His body first lurched backward, then slowly began to slide off to the side.

"Hold on, Jinn! Don't fall off the horse!" Norn silently prayed.

Perhaps Jinn heard Norn's plea. On the verge of falling, Jinn used the last of his strength to step on the stirrup and finish the race with the horse.

"Wow!!!"

The crowd roared in excitement. They had witnessed the birth of a champion knight. Despite being hit in the helmet in the final round, "Sir Eck won the championship thanks to his accumulated advantage from the earlier rounds.

The spectators showered the newly crowned champion with congratulations, and the excited noble girl even had her personal maid hand over her handkerchief.

Norn helped the dazed Jinn off the horse and guided him to the rest area with his arm around his shoulders.

"Jinn, how does it feel to be a champion?"

Jinn's mind was still a blur, but he remembered the thrill of the clash, the cheers for the champion, and the handkerchief that still smelled of perfume.

"Not bad!"