Friend- or not? (1)

The major trade-port of Venta Belgarum was one of the few cities in the British Isles that hadn't perceived the damaging effects that the retreat of Roman influence had caused across the countries.

Its economy still running strong thanks to the various ties to the French Mainland mixed between the small Roman strongholds in Normandy and the Franks ruling the region of Holland thanks to the fact that the trade routes in the English channel had been spared by the raids committed by the Saxon invaders.

The place was flourishing with life and urban development, something that would've surely been halted if the invaders had managed to conquer Londinium and reached the southern port.

But now that this threat was vanquished for good, especially with the last few news coming from the border war between the Picts and the German tribes?

I was sure as heck not going to waste the opportunity of endearing the governor of the city to sworn loyalty to my legitimate claim to the Isles.

The city had been the one that had been picked for the 'Convention of Kings'. Or so it was nicknamed by those workers that had been assigned in the streets to promote the important event. It was monumental, the possibility of drawing peace out of the war-torn lands of England.

While the general unpleasantness of the conflicts crippling the mainland hadn't reached the 'quiet south', the people in Venta Belgarum were endeared by the chance of finally being brought back into something powerful like it had been the Roman Empire.

There was a degree of stability that nothing else but being part of a large conglomerate of territories could bring to people's mind. The idea of a mighty leader ruling diligently, efficiently and, most of all, for the greater good of the nation. Which is why absolutism was the best way to go for the time being until things were somewhat 'happier' in this sad lands of death and unfairness.

Still, I wasn't fretting myself by pushing the current governor to actually get interested in such an offer. The man that ruled the trade-port was one of the rare few Romans that had actually refused to abandon the Isles, but he was also one of the oldest member of the Latin bureaucratic system.

Quintus Peltrasius Natalinus was born in Rome a few years earlier than the Sack of 410.

His family had been affiliated to some of the waning Aristocracy born from those that were part of the Senate. A governor that was meant to keep control of Britannia Prima, the first Roman colony in England, but failed to do so when the Legions garrisoning the region were forced to leave to assist the other troops by the Rhine and down in Italy.

He was within the entourage welcoming my group within the city when we arrived at the city just a day before the established day of the convention. He appeared to be an old man that looked pretty close to kick the bucket, but one that still sported dignity and pride in his upbringing.

I had expected him to be irked by my own presence, as Londinium was recognized as part of his own territory. Yet he was rather polite, and incredibly 'kind' over the party welcoming us within the streets of the city. Big crowds stared at my small cast of individuals that had been selected for the task and the guards that were following us.

It's kind of difficult to truly understand the psyche of the public in this specific time period but I knew that there was just a strange awe in seeing important characters guarded by knights in shining armors. So I just didn't waste too much thought about it and merely focused on the situation at hand.

We were provided with rooms by the living quarters, away from those occupied by by the group led by King Arthur as to avoid any unpleasant conflicts before the negotiations planned to happen for the next morning. Once our stuff had been properly put by our respective rooms, we were offered a larger room to use to share some discussions over what was going to be a troublesome round of negotiations.

"It's… concerning that Quintus decided to keep quiet about the claimant's identity," Altuos commented quietly. "While the man and I don't share much confidentiality after what had happened with the last governor in Londinium, he would've jumped at the opportunity to squash any attempt from the locals to form a heretic kingdom."

"Maybe something got him to change idea?" I suggested, only to be met with a headshake from Felicianus.

"Governor Quintus is a devout Catholic, his faith coming second only to his loyalty to Rome," The Bishop pointed out, dismissing my little guess with that affirmation. "But I share the commander's concerns over the lack of support from the Governor. I would've expected… even a small gesture to confirm his trustworthiness."

But he hadn't.

While the man had been a fine guide and a polite host, the Roman Governor hadn't showed anything that could be considered as an inclination towards our side. Which was indeed worth of some worry at the chances of Merlin having meddled around to make this a problematic place where to be as of now.

Maybe this was a massive trap. Maybe this was meant to see me killed if I failed to comply to the orders. I've seen how some characters within the Arthurian Legends were different by appearances, but their behaviors were somewhat resembling to the way they were commonly depicted by the old texts.

And while Arthur was a noble knight with a good ambition, his ways to achieve his goals were far from stellar. Knightship can take you so far before you shift your mentality away from honor and back into a forceful perception that altered one's mindset about the world.

Especially after years of wars having influenced the young claimant to the throne of Britain.

Despite my own issues about the matter, I was still relieved when the conversation soon shifted on something that would help immensely in giving our side some good publicity. While Felicianus had been living in Londinium with his cast of the Ecchlesia, the rest of Christian Britain was technically his own responsibility.

And this is why from that very topic there were conversations over the implementation of the same projects I had suggested to the Bishop here in Venta Belgarum. The idea was appealing, especially since the project was funded by the Church itself since the group wasn't forced to commit tributes to the rulers of the land.

While the trade-city seemed to have less issues with poor people, the presence of this issue and the resolution proposed by the Church 'under Felicianus but by my own Blessing' would've endeared the interest and the trust of some citizens trying to get a clear glimpse of who I truly was.

With this little situation solved, the discussion shifted on another particular situation. Roman Magi had established a Guild in this city too. They weren't following the standards preached by Altuos, but the guidelines that made it possible for their group to exist were there.

Considering my plans of seeing if it was possible to 'upgrade' Crocea Mors' runes to offer me better performances during the battlefield, I knew it was a must to give it a chance and visit the local Magi Guild once I was done with these negotiations.

From there, we delved back to the negotiations themselves. We had little to no clue about the kind of entourage Arthur had brought to the convention, but I was fairly sure that the main initiative was going to be a swift and blunt attempt to get their treaty done and signed.

With how quickly the young Pendragon had to have moved from Civil War to a proper kingdom, I was skeptical to believe he would be able to sustain a stable dominion over the region without facing some peasant rebellions back at home.

Either that, or I was hoping for Galehaut to make some interesting moves with his own control over the 'kingdom', perhaps make his own bid of power. This last possibility being a tangible one with the fact that the mighty lord kept neutral if not antagonistic over Arthur's ambitions up until he faced the 'Black Knight'.

And with the Black Knight currently sitting beside me with a confused and worried look over the overall situation we were supposed to face together, I knew that the chances of Arthur winning over Galehaut were close to none.

With that thought in mind, I continued to sport a confident look thorough the discussion, quipping some comments once in a while whenever possible. If I wasn't paying attention to the other topics highlighted in that lengthy conversation, it was because I was chatting quietly with Mya.

While the young woman was trying her best to keep track on what was being said in that reunion, her lacking grasp over the complicated matters brought up made her capacity to understand and digest the various topics quite complicated.

I noticed this from the very beginning of the discussion, but I had restrained myself from actively talking to her up until I was finally 'let go' of facing the issue that was the reason why we were all here.

"How are you doing?"

She offered a small but uneasy smile. "It's difficult. But… I'm fine."

"Once we're done with this, I think we could take two hours to wander around the city," I commented kindly. "It would do us all a little breath of air out of these sturdy walls."

"Is it always this difficult?" The white-haired woman inquired quietly. "I don't want to pry if it's… private. But it seems like this is what you usually do-"

"It can be difficult at times, but the rewards are worth it all," I replied with a small smile. "Still, I manage. It's not always a complicated mess as this one."

A small smile returned to her lips. "And you still find time to visit me."

"Of course. Why would I miss chatting with you?" I said with a frown. "I promised you that I will never leave me alone."

Her smile widened. "I don't want to leave you alone too."

…

I blinked, feeling jolted by the bright expression that I was bestowed with when she said those words. It felt odd that those felt so meaningful.

The conversation trailed for another full hour before I decided to adjourn the reunion to a latter hour. I took precautions to keep up with the little walk I had planned to have with Mya around Venta Belgarum.

Two guards from the local garrison were given to support Lancelot with the task of escorting us around the streets of the city. We were both endeared by the pleasant beauty of the roads and by the almost naive curiosity displayed by the people passing by and stopping to look at us walking around.

In the end this turned into a nice way to spend some of our free time in relative peace and harmony before we had to return back to the castle for more heavy conversations about tomorrow's situation.

Once we were gone through the same similar spiel from Altuos and Felicianus, stealing some brief chats with Myasviel in the mean time and… the daytime flickered away from my grasp quite quickly and unexpectedly.

I had so much weighting my entire consciousness over what was going to be my best shot to avoid a problematic and bloody conflict with someone way more advantaged than I was right now.

The night was long… and my nervous mind didn't have any plans for me to find rest.

It was around midnight that I decided to make something risky. Something that could easily end with my own demise if this place was truly filled with non-friendly intentions towards my group.

Taking a stroll around the castle without an armed escort was indeed a stupid decision from my part, but I wasn't unarmed since I had decided to take with me Crocea Mors.

My early plan was to merely lurk around to ponder in silence about the nerve-inducing fact that I was supposed to spearhead a powerful opposition to Arthur's expansionism.

The mere idea that I was going to butt heads with King Arthur was enough to put me in an unpleasant state of mind. Worry filling my thoughts, I ended up going beyond the corridor of the living quarters, feeling the need of finding a place I was sure that at this time of the night was currently deserted.

While the castle was slightly smaller than the one in Londinium, the inner barracks were still there as per architectural style that saw both fortress built. Moving around the halls without getting spotted by the passing patrols proved to be simpler than I had initially thought and… I ended up finding myself entering the place I assumed to be the barracks.

The large area was filled divided between the armory with the sparring tools and other blades needed for training, while the rest of the room was assigned for the training sessions. Small circles that were delimited by rope tightly circling through four pikes set by the ground around the fighting area.

But while I had indeed managed to find where the barracks where, my hopes of quiet and peace crumbled as I saw a lone figure slashing the air with a sparring sword. I was unable to get their appearance because of the dim lighting.

The torches were spread thinly across the entire room, and the other illuminating light that better aided in getting some sight over the battle areas was created by the moonlight descending from holes by the roof.

Finally, she moved around and bathed under the pale light. I blinked in surprise at the short-haired blonde attacking the air in what looked to be some training to refine her precision with her strikes. This very exercise had been one of the few ones that even now that I got through the basics of swordsmanship was still within my own regiment.

She was wearing a simple night-robe, with her sleeves rolled to the elbows as to have better mobility with her blade. Her golden hair was let down and free from any style beyond the natural small shoulder-length mane those formed.

Her greenish-blue eyes glinted interest over the current state of things, and she looked to have attained inner peace through that simple exercise. The silence was barely disturbed by her actions, with her voice being restrained by discipline and restraint over the importance of focusing onto the present.

But she was so attentive of her silent training that she failed to notice that I had been there. I took a few steps closer, taking a seat by one of the wooden benches lined by the entrance, my eyes mesmerized by the accuracy and devotion of her attacks. Almost reminding me of the way Lancelot seemed to twirl and strike around with his sword during our spars.

To be fair, I was starting to itch at the fact that this formidable woman was alone there and exercising, making her a possible training buddy for the time being… if I managed to introduce myself without sounding like a creep. It was late in the night, the place was desolate, and we were living in the medieval ages- I can see so many unpleasant misunderstandings coming from this very situation.

So, instead of continuing to stare like some stalker at the young woman, I decided to stand up from my seat and approach a little more her little training area. I paused by the edge of the ropes, waiting for a moment for the girl to finish what looked to be a rather complicated combo of swirls, slashes and strikes before actually greeting her.

"It's a quiet night today, isn't it?" I asked calmly, still failing to avoid getting a quick alarmed look from her as she turned around with her wooden sword trained at me. I frowned at the distrusting look on her face and sighed. "Just wandering about. Wanted to practice with my sword to clear some of my thoughts."

The quick explanation served to ease up the situation, but not enough to avoid swift inquiries from the blonde.

"Who are you?"

I felt tempted to state my full title and name, but then again I wasn't one to flex and brag about my achievements everywhere I go. So I just shrugged. "A guest to this castle. What about you, young lady?"

She looked surprised by the lack of formality within my tone and at the counter-question I had proposed to her. The girl shuffled nervously, keeping quiet as she thought about this.

"I'm- I'm a guest too."

Oh? I guess that would make sense that she's the daughter of some noble. She looked fairly young, I would say in her late teen years.

Just before I had the chance of pressing on, the swordswoman decided to continue to speak.

"A-And why would you need to… be there to clear your thoughts?"

There was a pause, her hold over the sword was now aimed elsewhere than me, but her tension was still there to make it clear she wasn't trusting my current reasoning just yet. What an interesting situation. And what an adorable blonde I had to deal with.

"Same thing you're doing here? Like I've said I just want to be alone and train a little bit," I answered swiftly, once more surprising the young woman on the spot. "But since you're here… I guess it would be asking too much to spar. I don't wish to sound too much disrespectful and straightforward, which is why I will leave you to your own businesses and I will train away from-"

"W-Wait," She muttered in a mix of confusion and surprise. "I mean, I wouldn't mind to spar with someone right now- you're also correct to say that it would be odd if you offered now and like this..."

I blinked. "But?"

The woman sighed. "But I really need to vent on a live target," She admitted without hesitation, drawing a skeptical frown from me. "A-And don't give me that look. I can tell that you wanted something like that too."

To be fair, she wasn't wrong in thinking like that. I really needed something a little more 'difficult' to face as to distract me from my own worries. A 'live target' would do that and much more. I managed a nod, before leaving my sword by the closest pike and walking up to fetch myself a training blade to challenge the blonde.

She had took her stance, holding her sword with both hands and preparing to rush me… but I wasn't done yet with the talking. In fact, I really felt interested now about this curious sparring buddy.

"How about we make a bet?" I suggested calmly, making her stare at me with a mix of confusion and minor irritation at getting distracted by my words. "I win, you tell me your name. You win, I tell you mine."

"Sounds rather unfair..." The blonde commented with a nod. "For yourself."

I narrowed my eyes at that, feeling aggravated that this girl was trying to throw sass at me. And I wasn't going to take that without some retaliation. "Then you will find no issue in accepting this, correct?"

A small smirk appeared on her face. "Only if you promise to not whine once I'm done with you."

That's it. Now I need to take steps to make some over-confident girl cry a river over this situation. I would've been nicer than this but… I really was irritated by the arrogance displayed by the sassy girl.

Grasping tightly at the hilt of my sword, I bolted the very moment that the blonde advanced. I was surprised at the burst of speed which the young woman had used to reach up for me, but I was accustomed to this kind of absurd pacing after dealing with this crap for a while now.

Her first hit, a sudden attempt to plunge her wooden blade towards me, was thwarted when I slammed the sword away from my proximity, offering me just a tiny window of opportunity to land 'first blood' myself.

Much to my dismay, my sword touched only air as the girl moved away from its trajectory. A smirk still playing by her face as I pressed on with the assault, clashing fiercely with her defense and her attempts to counter my own attacks.

I backed away as she took a wild swing at my left flank, letting the blade pass in front of me before shifting forward and back in my previous position.

"You're good," I confessed with a mix of surprise and giddiness over the intense situation. "But you don't seem much."

Her posture twitched at the half-compliment half-insult.

"And you move fairly slow for a 'slender' young man."

...Did she call me fat right now?! 'm not even chubby! What the heck!?

If the reason behind that insult was to get me pissed and more focused on the match, then she got her wish granted as I started to apply even more pressure to her guard. Yet, while I had some edge in the early moments of that furious burst, I was once again facing a stubborn stalemate by our equal pacing.

We both started to get riskier with our efforts to get openings on each others, but nothing truly noteworthy developed from that maddening equal clashing. I could feel her getting angrier the more I persisted against her, with the small lock of hair twirling atop her head dignifying the annoyance slowly replacing her patient self.

More power was pumped into my arms, my legs straining further as I tried to outmaneuver the girl, only to be matched shortly after by her own crescendo. It was infuriating how we were holding well against one another.

But just as I mustered up another strong push to throw back the umpteenth attempt from the girl, I felt the wood clashing starting to… creak louder than before. I didn't pay much attention to the odd noise, but then as the clash persisted through that single situation, the entire structure of our swords cracked under the pressure.

The 'bladed' part literally came off in a small release of tiny splinters flying everywhere around. I felt my eyes widening in utter surprise at it, with my sparring partner stopping at the same time as I did to look at her former training blade.

"Y-You- How is this possible?"

I stared at my own broken sword with a confused look. Shock swelled at the sight, but it was confusion that took the lead as I realized something much more important than the odd aftermath of this spar.

"Who won?"

The girl blinked in surprise at my sudden query, staring silently at me as her now wide-open eyes tried to make sense either about my question or how my priorities were truly sorted inside my head. Still, she blinked again and… nodded.

"I think that was a draw," The blonde admitted, her tone still filled with quiet surprise at the development. "Which means…"

"We need to tell each others about our names," I concluded for her, drawing a nod from the young woman.

She gave me a long stare, but didn't say anything. "Isn't there a rule about 'girls going first'?"

"I'm shy," The young woman commented with a blank tone, making me narrow my eyes at her as a smug look appeared shortly after on her face.

"And also a sassy, shy, but adorable girl. Yes," I rebuked with an impassive tone, making her blush at the little 'compliment' I had left for her to hear. "But sure. My name is… Joe."

Oh God, I just realized that I could technically meme her but… that wouldn't be received well considering time and space. Curse you, lack of the internet!

"Your name is Joe?"

"Yep."

"That's… quite short."

Maybe I'm trying to balance something far bigger than that. Who knows.

"What about your name? It's your turn now, shy-girl."

Huffing at the new nickname, she crossed her arms close to her chest. "I'm… You may call me Ria."

I stared at Ria quietly and in a contemplative state. I was fairly sure that name wasn't a thing just yet, especially here in Medieval England. Could it be that she had perceived the fact I had used a fake name? Probably, or maybe she was just as careful as I was about giving out her real name.

"Well… nice to meet you, Ria."

"Likewise," She rebuked softly. "And you were a good sparring partner. You seem to have quite the experience with the blade."

I nodded slowly. "To be honest, I've started to train with a sword a little less than a month ago."

I saw her skip a couple of steps to approach me. "What? You've to be lying."

"I'm not," I commented sheepishly. "But there is also the fact that I got trained to the bone to get to this level."

"Still, that was a formidable match. It's been a while since… I've been testing my own against someone else," She admitted. "And… Can I ask you a quick question? Something that I've been thinking about since we first started fighting?"

I shrugged, gesturing her to go ahead with it and the blonde sighed.

"Were you… trying to hold back?"

… "No, why?"

"You weren't holding back?"

"As I've said, no. It was a spar and..." I paused, slowly realizing what she was trying to get to ask about and… I sighed. "No I didn't hold back. Especially not because you're a girl."

"But-"

"There's no butts. I really put myself into that spar, like you did yourself," I interjected tiredly. "And with this resolved… I think I will go back to sleep."

Ria looked slightly irked by this final comment, but just as she prepared to rebuke that, she proceeded to let out a quick yawn, making me yawn too. Her face reddened up again, and instead of commenting about the situation, she merely settled with a nod and a quick 'goodnight'.

I was incredibly tired, ready to get myself some sleep and… the warm sheets and pillows welcomed me just fine back in that nice bed. I slowly drifted away into unconsciousness, incredibly unaware that things tomorrow were indeed going to become… rather awkward.

If only I had known that my newest friend was actually going to become (also) my newest rival!