This was not easy.
“I knew this would happen…!” the rhea girl grumbled—but she was careful to do so in a corner of the competition field, where no one could hear her. She removed her helmet and peeled off her balaclava; she took a deep breath, which brought with it the sweet musk of her own sweat.
Wizard Boy, however, paid no attention—this was hardly the time. He was too busy grabbing a kerchief and tossing it to the girl in the saddle. He was also grumbling angrily, but his gaze was forward.
“They can’t be knocked off their horses,” he growled.
On the far side of the coliseum, which heaved with the passion of the audience, was a knight replacing a shattered lance—a centaur knight.
Actually, Wizard Boy wasn’t even sure it was appropriate to call him a knight. Not out of discrimination but as a matter of definition: It was impossible for a centaur to mount up. Which gave them a definitive advantage in mounted jousting…
“But you didn’t fall off, either, and that’s what counts. The score’s even.”
I’d like to meet the buffoon who thought centaurs and humans should face each other in combat.
Since the opponent couldn’t be unhorsed, an ordinary knight was at a decisive disadvantage. The fact that his partner was holding on at all with her tiny stature was testament to her force of will, but that didn’t matter to the score.
The centaur at least had the good grace to look guilty, but it wasn’t going to make him hold back—no warrior worth their salt would.
That was fine. He felt no anger about someone trying to achieve victory under the rules as stipulated. Instead, his frustration and the rhea girl’s were directed at whomever had deemed this situation acceptable.
Never mind that, if you trawled the history books, there were war songs that described a young lion crossing spears with a centaur.
“What really hacks me off—,” the girl started—they were in an interval, a resting time, between bouts. She wiped off the sweat, wetted her parched throat, and took a bite of dried meat, her umpteenth lunch of the day. “—is that if I win this, that paladin gets to go around grinning like he was right all along!”
The boy could readily imagine it, but he tried to keep a calm front as he grinned. “Let me guess—you still don’t plan on losing.”
“I damn well don’t!”
“Perfect.” He was glad to hear it. If she’d sounded like she was giving up before the battle even began, he’d planned to advise her to expend the minimum of stamina and go for victory in the swordsmanship contest. But if she was ready… “Then we’re here to win. Think you can do it?”
“I assume you have a plan?” She glanced at him, and her smile was like the sun. “Better believe I’m going to do it!”
He actually had to avert his eyes from her earnest gaze, coughing discreetly. Then he closed his eyes for a second, took a deep breath, and said as casually as he could, “You’re already down low, so take advantage of that to strike with your lance from a low position. That’s the key.”
“Right.”
“It also means your opponent is going to have to aim low, down over the tilt.”
“Right,” the girl said again and nodded.
“Okay,” the boy said. He waited a beat, and then he told her the plan.
“……You really think that’s gonna work?” the girl asked. It sounded a little underhanded to her.
He responded to her unease with a confident “No problem. A song from the east says that if you want to strike down a man, first you have to strike down his horse.”
And because the centaurs came from the plains to the east, the opponent would no doubt be familiar with the saying.
“That makes sense!” Rhea Fighter said. Her eyes shone, but really, Wizard Boy was just saying what he had to. If you didn’t go into a contest with confidence, then you could lose even when you should have won.
She said she could win, and she intended to. Anyone trying to put frivolous distractions in her mind could go get kicked by a horse.
“…He’s not a horse anyway,” Wizard Boy added.
“Oh, good point,” the rhea girl said, clapping her hands innocently. “So it’s from underneath, like this.” She made some sort of gesture, her armor clanking as she moved. Wizard Boy didn’t know much about martial arts, and he didn’t fully understand what she was implying. But then she said, “One good thrust, right?”
“Yeah!” He nodded. “We aren’t looking to hurt anyone.”
“Sure, that’s true.”
“Then there’s the shout. Bellow as loud as you can—make sure it comes from deep in your belly.”
“Right…!”
The girl nodded, and then the boy handed her the balaclava and helped her slide her helmet over it. He gave her a gentle tap on the head just before she lowered her visor, helped her up onto her donkey, and sent her on her way. Now there was nothing he could do but watch.
If this is an adventure…
Rhea Fighter rode off on her donkey, a fresh lance in her hand. As he watched her go, Wizard Boy gave a quick shake of his head and said, “No…”
No.
Is this an adventure?
Wizard Boy couldn’t understand how that pigheaded old rhea thought, but his view of the world probably deserved Wizard Boy’s attention. He had asked them: Was it ruthless, sending a single rhea to retrieve a gemstone from a dragon’s den? He who can’t send his friends off and trust them as they go is either very arrogant or doesn’t really think of them as friends at all.
If they’d believed for a second that rhea would pocket the stone for himself, they would all have gone charging in together instead—and would certainly have been wiped out.
I’ll never make such a stupid mistake.
So it was that the boy clenched his fist and simply watched the rhea girl ride forth to challenge the centaur. The tiny figure mounted on a donkey looked as brave as she did comical.
Even if the girl won this round, it might be a fluke. There might not be a next time. She was facing a horse person, after all; she had as much chance as that mournful old man against his windmills.
But who gives a shit?!
The rhea girl snorted under her helmet. Who would dare to laugh at that chivalry-mad old man? Hadn’t he believed that chivalry was possible, to the bitter end? That was why he had challenged the four-armed giant. The Four-Cornered World might be wide, but how many people could there be in it who would challenge a giant all on their own?
She hadn’t known the story until she heard it from her master, and he had said, “Some might think the old man merely a fool, but what story of a mere fool ever lasted so long?”
I want to be like him.
That was the thought in her mind as she put the spurs to her donkey.
“Yaaaaahhhh!”
Her mount accelerated, rushing forward, the force of it throwing her back in her saddle. The centaur knight raced to meet her. She heard hoofbeats, like the roar of a waterfall—not that she had ever seen one.
The rhea girl couched her lance firmly, ignoring the cloud of dust. The contest would be decided in one instant. She opened her eyes as wide as she could, trying to see past her own visor.
So fast. They were both moving so quickly. She didn’t have any precise numbers, but she could see the distance closing. It would be one second more.
“Listen,” the boy had said. The opponent had the edge on her in speed, mass, and physical force. Even the girl’s position was disadvantageous; coming up from below was not as powerful as coming down from above.
In which case…
You don’t have to thrust yourself into that situation!
“Rrraahhh!”
The lance came crashing down from over her head. There was an earsplitting shout. She refused to lose. She clenched her abdominal muscles.
“Keeeeeeeehhhh!”
With an animalistic yell, the rhea girl strained her entire body. The centaur’s eyes were wide. He even smiled at her.
Up coming down, down coming up. The lance points slid past each other. A draw, then? No, it wasn’t.
The centaur’s lance grazed the rhea girl’s shield and was deflected to the side. That was the opening she needed; her lance was through.
The centaur practically threw himself against her weapon. Its trajectory was like a wildfire reaching upward—except it was almost completely horizontal.
She rammed the lance home, striking the centaur’s shield from the left as hard as she could. Unlike with a human knight, there was no horse’s head there. Which meant… Which meant…
He’s got to be leaning forward!
Wood splintered, the impact running like lightning through the girl’s small hands, making everything numb.
But so what?!
The rhea girl braced herself in her stirrups; her small body was forced backward, but she stayed in the saddle. Behind her, there was a thump as the centaur tumbled sidelong into the dirt.
Chatter broke out in the audience. The rhea girl brought her donkey around and took in the scene dumbly, not sure whether she had actually won.
The centaur’s servant was quickly at his side. The centaur wouldn’t be dead. The judges looked at one another.
That’s right: Just because someone couldn’t be unhorsed didn’t mean they couldn’t be knocked down. Tumbles were usually adjudged to be the fault of the mount and therefore not a defeat—but when horse and rider were one, then surely it was the knight who was responsible.
If her opponent wasn’t in violation of the rules, then surely neither was she. And as such…
“Knock ’im the hell over.” That was the plan the boy had given her. The boy who was now sprinting toward her from the other end of the field.
Defend, then strike—and when they were at a draw, she would make her move.
She’d been raised to seize the initiative at every moment, and it seemed like madness to her. But…if the limping old rhea—the one who had taught her how to use a stick—could see it, what would he say? Would he get that fond look in his eye and tell her, Not bad…for the likes of you?
Nah… Probably not.
Her grandpa, just like her current instructor, wasn’t much for praise. Although he wasn’t much for humiliation, either.
“You did it…!”
So it was that the boy, rushing up with his face red as an apple, was the only one. The only one who had words of unvarnished approbation for her—even if he didn’t say everything he felt.
“I did…I did it!” The girl tore off her helmet, jumped off her donkey, and leaped toward him.
Speed and mass. Unable to hold her up, the boy exclaimed, and they ended up in a tangle on the ground.
On the other side of the field, the judges were raising a large flag in the rhea girl’s direction.