[IRP] Idyll of the Idle

[Victor]

"My lady," he whispered, "This does not concern you, and I am deeply sorry that you should be embroiled in this commotion." The rider was finally within earshot, and Roland stretched out an arm as if to hold Ingrid back.

The approaching knight had a haggard look about him. His armor was caked in mud, however, underneath the filth was a breastplate that matched Roland's own. He looked unaccustomed to heavy, daily riding. Roland almost chuckled when he noticed the strange gait, as if he had been chapped in the thighs from the saddle. He was green. This young whelp would be an easily bested opponent, should it come to that.

The knight drew his sword hastily in response to Roland's bared blade. Roland tensed and kept his arm back to keep Ingrid from getting any closer. She must be protected at all costs. It was very impolite to get her wrapped up in all of this. Especially now that he'd been confronted by this two-bit replacement.

"Roland Summer," stated the rider, "As an oath-breaker and traitor to Lycia, you have been marked for death. Drop your weapon, or I will strike you down by the power vested in me by the Emperor himself."

Roland brushed his hair off of his forehead, making sure it landed in a perfect curl. There would be no point in breaking a sweat when it came to fending off the mannerless lackey that had most likely assumed his abandoned post. He might as well look like a hero doing it. "So be it," he replied. "Steady yourself."

This would be a game, really. The knight swung his sword, a predictable blow that was easily deflected by Roland. He used the opportunity to pull closer to his opponent, holding his blade in both hands. The knight, stunned, did not respond as Roland pulled up so close. Roland grabbed his sword by the flat of the blade and pushed it together with the rider's in an attempt to bind him. His free hand locked around the knight's thigh as a wrestler. As he tried to hobble out of the hold on one leg, Roland kept their blades locked and gave him a good shove. He went tumbling to the ground. All in all a gambit, as any tournamenter worth his salt knew his way out of this one. Roland was almost stunned the bout was so easily won.

Roland walked over to the rider, holding his sword at his throat. "You have been bested this day. Flee now, or continue to fight and lose your life." The rider, shaking, got up and dashed to his horse. It wasn't until Roland watched him ride away that he put down his sword. He was bleeding from a gash on his hand when he had held his sword by the blade. If only he'd had enough forethought to grab his gloves. Truly not a knightly thing to do, forget your gloves. He walked over to Ingrid, holding out his palm, showing her the large cut across the crease of his thumb and forefinger.

He was reluctant to allow her to help, as she probably would not be keen on dirtying herself with blood. Besides, she was supposed to be defended, not drawn into battle. However, she seemed quite well read, so he would bother to ask.

"My lady, I assume you've studied your book thoroughly, yes? Please allow me, your humble servant, to be your first lesson in practice."