Target And Arrow: Chapter 1 (Violence, Male-Female)

Story by Tankou

Apologies for the minor typos. It's also kinda taken, to some degree, by A Knight's Tale. Still other chapters won't be as such...

Target And Arrow

By David Gray

Chapter One: The Woman Who Lacks A Name

The Fair of Nobles brought all sorts of men from around the world. From the far east men in leather armor rode in on slim horses, and from the frozen north men in beat up old armor with horses the size of small dragons rode in, their hearts as cold as the land that they came from. One such man was from neither place. In fact this man was a lesser knight, a Scot who lusted for victory on the sword field. The Fair of Nobles held jousting tournaments and mace combat but Dagonet Adair excelled in pole arms and swords. None could best the young knight if he was fitted with a glaive and a sword in his hands was only just less dangerous. Not all men looked up to Dagonet and in fact many disliked him for he was of lesser class as far as nobles went and his mother of humble birth. He wasn't exactly a bastard child but he wasn't far from it. He had a small crowd that appreciated his prowess and only one lord looked up to his abilities, sponsoring his trials each tournament

Still Dagonet needed no man to prove his worth. Dagonet was feared by all but the most powerful knights, and in a short year of combat had earned many a trophy from horses to statues to women and not always in such an order. Dagonet did not only excel in the sword and the pole arms, however. He was well practiced in many other fields because not always did a tournament allow a man his pick of weaponry. Dagonet was known in the grand melee for his skills with a war hammer, and up in the cold north even the Norse knew Dagonet was better with an ax than half of them. On a horse Dagonet never liked wielding a lance but if it was called for he could break the wooden weapon against a man's head and unhorse the man in the first round.

As the knights suited up and Dagonet did so as well he stared out of the pavilion he stood in as his squire helped him with his armor. Outside he spotted a wonderful woman and knew her well. He had seen this woman at every tournament for she missed none. She was known not for her silence and how she kept it as most women were but rather how she spoke and to whom. This young woman but two years younger than the knight spoke whenever she deemed it necessary for her own convenience, and because of her high rank in the nobility, was not afraid to speak to anyone as she wished saved for perhaps the king himself. Her name was unknown to Dagonet but he knew that he would capture her and make her his own. Every tournament he noted high lords and heavily known knights swearing to her that they would win for her but Dagonet made no such promises, and suspected he was the only one. His promises needed no words for he would show the young lady his prowess through his mighty strikes in the ring.

Now was not the time to think of women and how he would win them, however, for Dagonet was led out of the tent and to the pole arms arena where he was overdue. The time for winning fights was now, not the time for winning women. Not many people watched the pole arms fights. They weren't very noted among the nobility and currently the bow, the sword, and the lance were the most beloved practices on the lists. Still Dagonet signed up for at least two of those every tournament fairing well every time in the sword, and always scoring high in the art of archery. In his hand a glaive was set and across the arena his opponent standing a foot shorter, held a mighty voulge. If one fighter was stricken twenty times or struck dead than they lost.

The martial called for the fight to begin and Dagonet's opponent lifted the voulge high, bringing it down toward Dagonet's head. The young knight could tell that this man was going for the kill as some knights often swore to do, believing that any knight who lost was simply too weak to live. Dagonet believed this about as much as he believed the English deserved to own Scotland but if his opponent believed such things he was set to play his game. Dagonet raised his glaive and the voulge caught it. Dagonet was amazed that this small man was capable of such strength, Dagonet's hands lowering and the voulge hitting the top of his helm, punching a small hole in it. Dagonet could feel the tip cut into his scalp, but the wound was too shallow to be anything but a scratch. His opponent lifted again and brought the voulge down but Dagonet dodged aside this time, taking a swing and rending into the man's arm. The glaive caught on the steel and Dagonet's opponent only laughed, th

... more on the forums ...