Tavern Brawl

A fist came speeding toward his face.

Balian had plenty of time to see it coming. In fact, his enemy was so slow that he had already planned a defense and counterattack.

Balian was used to fighting. It was all he had ever known. The hardest part was surviving the first battle. He had done that. 

Experience and training had made him stronger, tougher, and smarter.

Balian instinctively moved to the side, dodging the fist. 

Reaching out, he grabbed his attacker's arm with both hands. He yanked down, causing his enemy to stumble forward. 

At the same time, he brought up his knee and pushed down, snapping the man's arm backward at the elbow. 

There was a crack, and the man screamed in pain.

Three to go, Balian thought, looking at the remaining enemies.

The first was a shorter, slightly pudgy man.

He's quicker than the others, somehow, Balian thought as the man charged at him. But I have one advantage that he doesn't.

Reach. 

Balling his fingers into a fist, Balian punched the man square in the face. He stood for a moment, looking dazed. He blinked, rapidly, as if he were struggling to see. Then he collapsed, unconscious, his face a bloody mess.

Two to go.

One of them had a dagger, an old rusty thing with a blade that he was sure had never been sharpened since its creation. 

Balian stood still as the man came running at him.

He didn't move in defense this time, even as the dagger swung toward his side.

Not even a flinch.

The dagger hit his side, where there was a gap in his plated armor. But underneath was his chainmail. The blade came into contact with and snapped off at the handle.

The man looked dumbfounded, now stepping back with uncertainty. The other enemy didn't move a muscle.

"Do me a favor," Balian said. "Look at your friends."

The two men looked to the ground. Two of them were unconscious. The other was crying softly in pain as he held his broken arm. 

"Each in one hit," Balian said softly. "Do you want to end up like them? Or worse? I've never figured out how to pull my punches, honestly. There's no point. Now, I suggest you get them up and get the hell out of this tavern."

The two didn't even consider their options. In a moment, they were dragging their friends out of the tavern, each apologizing to Mistress Bedlam on their way out.

"If I ever see any of your faces in here again," Balian said, turning to face the man with the broken arm. "I will hit you until your lungs no longer draw breath. Now leave."

The man whimpered, still holding his arm. As he stumbled toward the doors, a boot jutted out and sent him sprawling.

Sir Lucan burst out laughing. "I'm truly sorry. I couldn't help myself."

Balian watched as the man stumbled back to his feet and out the door.

Then he turned to Mistress Bedlam. "Sorry about that. It seems I broke your table. I can-"

"No," Mistress Bedlam said, setting another drink on his table. "Thank you for helping. Here, another drink on me."

Balian looked at Sir Lucan and shrugged. 

A moment later, they were back to drinking as if nothing had happened.

"Your skills are still some of the greatest I've ever seen," Sir Lucan said. "'There never lived a man as strong as Balian the Brave.' I think that's a quote from something…."

Balian frowned. "The brave? Not the lonely?"

"No, of course not. All knights are lonely anyways."

"Not like me," Balian said, finishing off another mug of ale. "You know the names I've heard you called? Sir Lucan the Hero. Sir Lucan the Immortal. Sir Lucan the Unbeatable. Sir Lucan the Mighty. In just a year, you're already the stuff of legends."

"Bah! I've just gotten lucky, that's all."

They were silent for a moment. "That woman, Athena…," Balian began.

"Still thinking about her? She was mad, Balian, honestly. Probably some peasant who's never been educated. Seriously, she disrespected our king."

"That was all an act. I know it was," he said, stroking his beard. "But why would she want to be imprisoned? It doesn't make sense."

"No, you're not making sense, Balian. Are you mad as well? There's no reason to defend her actions."

Balian stood suddenly. "I'm going to see her."

"WHAT?" Sir Lucan exclaimed.

Balian was already moving to the door. "Good day, mistress," he said as he exited.

"Good day, Balian," Mistress Bedlam said kindly.

"Wait!" Sir Lucan said, running to catch up with him. "You are a madman. That woman is to be executed tomorrow. By the king himself."

"I didn't say I was going to free her," Balian said. "But I do want to speak with her. She knows about those monsters. Maybe if she can give me enough information…I could request the king to free her."

"She sat on his throne," Sir Lucan countered. "The king will not be letting her go."

"Whatever," Balian said with frustration. "I'm still seeing her."

"You're drunk, my brother. This isn't your normal thinking."

"That doesn't mean it's the wrong thinking," Balian responded. They were inside the castle's walls now and his pace had picked up even faster.

There was a shriek.

Sir Lucan sighed and came to a stop. 

Balian spun around and watched as a young woman jumped into Sir Lucan's arms. 

"M'lord. You look magnificent as always. How have you been?"

The princess, Balian realized. She was in an awfully good mood despite the fact that House Styte had just killed her older sister. But she was now the oldest. King Leandis's only other child was a boy of five, the heir to the throne.

"Have you thought at all about my marriage proposal, Sir Lucan?" The girl asked, running her fingers along his armor. 

Sir Lucan was speechless, looking to Balian for help.

"Alright," Balian called out, giving his friend a wave. "I don't have time for this. Why don't you talk with the princess for a little? I'll be back."

Sir Lucan shot him an angry look but stayed with the princess as Balian made his way to the dungeon. 

He began down the winding stairs that led to the dungeon half a furlong below.

Two guards stood outside the entrance. As soon as they spotted Balian, they unlocked the door and gestured for him to enter.

"I'm looking for a girl," Balian said. "She was sent here just hours ago."

"Right away, General Balian," one of them said. "Follow me."

Balian knew the rules by now. Always stay in the middle of the hallway. If you strayed too far over, a hand would grab you. Hands that had raped. Hands that had stolen. Hands that had killed.

He looked down at his own hands. Murderous hands. Why was it that he didn't belong down here too?

"Here she is, General," The soldier said, handing Balian his torch. He then set off in the darkness, back to his post. 

Balian stepped up to the rusted iron bars, peering in. 

It was dark, but he could make out the girl's crouched shape in the back corner.

"Athena?"

The figure moved, quietly, until she reached the bars. 

Balian found himself staring into her green eyes. It gave him the feeling of being lost in a forest. A forest of endless possibilities, endless destinations.

"You are the man from before," she said quietly.

"Yes. I am Balian. Balian Hawthorne. I'm a General."

"You let me live. Only to let me die."

"What?"

"You saved me from those creatures. But you will not save me from your king. Is he more powerful than them? That cannot be true. When he hit me…I barely felt pain. As if there were no force behind it. Why are you subservient to a man as weak as him?"

Maybe she is mad, Balian thought.

"My lady, it is not about strength. It is about power. The king holds all the power, even if he isn't physically strong."

"But why him? Why is he given more power? With a single word, he is able to execute a woman for sitting on his fancy chair? It hardly seems right," Athena said, sitting on the stone floor. She wrapped her arms around her legs and shivered.

Balian kneeled, so they were on the same level. "That's just the way of things, madam."

"My mother always told me love was the strongest emotion," she continued, as if she hadn't heard Balian. "But I always believed fear was stronger. Do you love your king? Or do you fear him?"

He paused. He didn't love King Leandis. That much he was sure of. "I suppose…I fear what would happen if I betrayed him."

"So fear. And that is why he controls you so well. That is why he controls everyone. Fear is power, I think."

"He doesn't control. He leads. A king does what is best for his people," Balian countered.

"A king does what's best for himself. He does what needs to be done to ensure his survival, as well as his children's. To continue the line."

Balian stood. "Thinking like this is why you're here. Behind those bars."

She reached out and grabbed his gloved hand. "Perspective."

"What?"

"From my perspective, you too are behind bars."