The Adventures of Bryn Castor: Part I

The Swordguard Tournament

Bryn scrambled around his room getting ready to leave for Selection. He threw on a pair of pants and a shirt so fast that he didn’t even realize they were on backward. He collected his boots from the bedside, slung his sword sheath around his broad shoulders, and ran out the door. 

Bryn kissed his mother’s cheek, and she held him tight. 

“I’ve got to go, Mom! I’ll be late!” he told her.

“I know. Good luck, son,” she said, but he was already out the door. 

The moment he left the inn, he was greeted by the sweet smell of cherry trees and fresh spring air. 

He inhaled deeply. 

It was the first day of May. It was also the day when the mayor chose the newest member of the Swordguard, the elite protectors of their little mountainside town. 

Bryn had watched the Selection every year when he was a boy. He had always wanted to be a Swordguard member–more than anything. Those men were regarded as the most skilled warriors in the land, and he could understand why. To become a Swordguard, the men were put through a series of tests–trials to prove their worth to the mayor and all of the veteran guard members. There were sword fights, jousting matches, and races. 

Bryn’s heart raced just thinking about it. 

He had always practiced swordplay with his father, but, being that his dad left when he was ten, he doubted he had as much training as the aristocrats. These were men who came from the Royal City beyond the mountains. Most Guardsmen were from there. It was rare that more than one person was chosen from any other town, like theirs, which was practically in the middle of nowhere. Bryn had to be the one to change that.

Ever since he was young, he wanted the honor of putting his hometown on the map, but now, he had an even better reason. 

A few months ago, Bryn’s girlfriend, Valery Callaghan, confronted the Demon who once lived in the mountains and murdered her parents. Bryn went after her, but by the time he got there, it was already too late. The Demon had found her. He disguised himself as a man and fooled Valery into entrusting him with her secrets. To make matters worse, he used Bryn like a hostage. Then, the Demon possessed Bryn, and he almost forced him to kill Valery. Bryn was unable to control himself –he couldn’t protect her– and even though Valery defeated the Demon, he had made things more difficult all because he was too weak. 

Although the Demon was gone, there was no guarantee that there weren’t others–perhaps allies of the Demon Prince–and Bryn knew he had to get stronger to protect Valery and the town from future threats.

He headed for the center of town, where all of the townsfolk were gathering to watch the Selection. There were already several couples and families around the square. In the middle, the contestants were standing together before the veteran Guardsmen. 

Bryn’s jaw dropped. 

Eight men stood beside the mayor. They were dressed in royal garb with the crest of the royal family gleaming on their silver breastplates. 

The Guardsmen stood proud. No one could contend with their mighty swords and masterfully crafted armor. They were everything Bryn wanted to be. 

Before he joined his fellow recruits, Valery emerged from the crowd. 

“Bryn!” she yelled. 

She pushed her way through the people and jumped into his arms. She kissed him. Then, she pulled away and looked into his eyes suspiciously. 

“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” she asked. 

“Well…” he started. 

“Don’t be! You’re gonna do great!” she exclaimed. 

He was skeptical, but he said, “I have to–now that I know you’re watching me.”

“Trying to win me over?” she asked, punching his arm playfully. “No matter what happens out there, I’m not going anywhere. You’ve already impressed me enough.”

She smiled. “But you’d better go!” 

Bryn nodded and kissed her hand before they broke apart.

Bryn joined the other contestants in the square. He couldn’t believe how many there were—twenty at least. There were never so many in the past. 

He recognized many of the men, but most of them were older than him. There was only one boy his age that he knew of. His name was Teo. He was the son of a merchant. He was rather small and looked as though he’d never held a sword before. 

Bryn frowned. Why is he here?

Before he could greet Teo, the mayor stepped into the square. The man spoke in a surprisingly commanding voice, considering his small size. “Good morning, everyone! Today is the first of May—the day of the infamous Swordguard Selection Tournament. This year, we have eighteen new contestants all vying for just two spots! However, this year’s tournament will be run a little differently. The royal family has requested that there need only be one trial. The contestants will compete against the current guardsmen in a tourney—eighteen against eight. The contestants and veterans will compete to be the last one standing. It is quite simple: whichever two contestants survive until the end will replace the first two veterans to fall.”

Bryn felt faint as little beads of sweat began to form along his collarbone. 

Even though the contestants greatly outnumbered the veterans, they weren’t nearly as experienced. But they couldn’t question the royal family. If a tourney was what they wanted, then the townsfolk were obligated to hold one. But that didn’t mean that they should be happy about it. 

The next thing he knew, the men were being lined up, opposite each other—the contestants on one side and the veterans on the other. Meanwhile, the spectators were moved back so that the entire square was available for the tourney. 

The man who lined them up was one of the veteran Guardsmen. He instructed the men, “You will remain in line until the horn is blown. Once the tourney begins, I advise you to stay in groups. Individuals will be eliminated much quicker.” 

His eyes passed over the men as he spoke, but stopped on Bryn as he added, “Good luck to you all.”

He joined the other veterans, and the mayor regained control of the crowd. He held up an object—which resembled an ox horn—and said, “Let the Swordguard Selection begin!”

Bryn braced himself and drew his sword. This is for you, Val. 

As the horn blared out through the square, everyone broke into a sprint.

Bryn ran alongside the other contestants as they ran toward the veterans like stampeding cattle, wrestling to stay in one line until they reached the Guardsmen, where the contestants split off into their individual battles.

Bryn felt like a log flying down a river of rocky rapids. There were men to the right of him fighting two-on-one against a Guardsman. The veteran kept up with their advances, easily parrying their strokes as if they were nothing but honey bees buzzing around his head. To the left, there was a group of five villagers in a similar predicament, against three Guardsmen. It didn’t seem to matter how many villagers there were; no matter what the ratio, the vets were always undeterred. 

Bryn ran ahead looking for an opening, but it didn’t seem to make a difference. Everyone was in the same boat. The veterans were leading the tourney, and the contestants were dropping like flies. 

The screeching of clashing swords and the grunts of angry men echoed in the square. The villagers screamed and yelled in anger of defeat. 

Bryn watched the contestants around him fall until there was only one group that remained, which was composed of about ten contestants and veterans. 

He was about to join them, but before he could, a group of Guardsmen surrounded him. They had just finished off the villagers on either side of him who slumped down in defeat, their injuries too severe to continue. Once the coast was clear, a few of the bystanders—most likely on medical duty—came and moved them off the square where they were officially disqualified. The Guardsmen responsible didn’t have a scratch. 

They stalked Bryn with wicked smiles on their faces. 

“Looks like we’ve got a loner,” one of them observed. 

He was big and buff—a real meathead. The other was a girl who was rather small in comparison but just as menacing. She wore spikes on her knuckles and around her neck. The other two were in full armor, and Bryn couldn’t see their faces under their metal helmets. 

“It’s too easy this year,” the girl remarked. “Let’s make this a little more interesting.” 

“What’d you have in mind?” the buff one asked.

“Why don’t we play a little game?” she suggested. “I say we take turns. Whoever gets the most hits wins, and the winner gets the finishing blow—if he survives that long.” 

“What should we go to?” 

“Let’s say, first one to twenty?” 

“Deal!”

They shook hands. The whole time, Bryn stood there like an idiot, but as soon as the Guardsmen made their arrangement, he snapped out of it. 

He drew his sword as the burly guy came toward him. “I’m not gonna play your game!” he cried. 

“Sorry, but you don’t have a choice,” the burly Guardsman said. “It’s already over for you. So, why don’t you just accept it and have a little fun with us?” 

“No way in hell!” Bryn said.

He held up his sword to show he wasn’t backing down. 

“Well, I guess it wouldn’t be much fun if you didn’t fight back,” the Guardsman reasoned. “Give it your best, kid!”

The burly Guardsman pulled out a surprisingly petite sword. It was a longsword, only about two and a half inches thick. He swung the blade at Bryn, who blocked it with his short sword. But the Guardsman was strong, and it took both of Bryn’s hands to keep it from coming down on him. 

“Alright, my turn!” the girl Guardsman said. 

Bryn didn’t even have time to react before she sliced him from behind, leaving a long but shallow cut along Bryn’s shoulder. 

“Yes! Already in the lead!” 

“Aww, beginner’s luck!” the burly one surmised. 

He struck again, but this time Bryn couldn’t block it. He was too slow, and the sword caught his leg as he tried to dodge at the last moment. 

He clutched his injured ankle, but the pain was masked by anger. 

He just wanted to survive, but they were making it seem more and more impossible by the minute.

The two Guardsmen went back and forth—taking turns on each strike—ruthlessly slicing at Bryn’s arms, his legs, his torso, and even his cheek until, finally, he had had enough. 

“Nineteen-nineteen. The last one to twenty has to clean the stables for a week!” the female Guardsman said. 

“Come on, that wasn’t part of the deal!” the male one exclaimed. 

“It is now!” she laughed. 

The two metalheads began placing bets on who they thought would win as the others advanced on Bryn. 

“It’s over,” said the girl.

“Better luck next year!” the guy added. 

But Bryn wasn’t giving up. He lowered his sword as if he was quitting, but as the Guardsmen came forward, he lunged at them so that he was right under their noses. Still crouching, he swiftly moved his blade across the back of the burly guy’s knee. It was a clean cut since there was no padding behind it. 

The Guardsman stumbled and knelt to support his weakened leg, but the girl was not deterred.

“How dare you!” she screamed and brought her blade down to the base of Bryn’s neck. Just before it kissed his exposed skin, the ox horn sounded. 

“The Selection Tournament has officially come to an end!” the mayor announced. “We have our winners! Bryn Castor and Teo Jerrin!” 

The female Guardsman dropped her sword beside him, and Bryn raised his head cautiously. He looked around and saw the mayor smiling in the distance. Then, he noticed Teo, who looked just as confused, surrounded by about eight Guardsmen. Next, he turned his attention to the crowd. Everyone around the square was staring at them. Then, suddenly, they erupted into applause. 

Bryn didn’t register what was happening. He stood completely still, unable to move from the place where he had been almost killed. 

He didn’t even see Valery run up to him until he caught her in his arms. 

She hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek. 

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered.

“I did it?” he asked, dumbfounded. 

“Yes! You’re a member of the Swordguard!” 

Before she could say any more, the mayor came up to them with Teo under his arm. 

“Good job, boys! I could not be more pleased that it was you two who were selected!” he said. “Now, go bring honor to our town.” 

The mayor ushered them over to the other Guardsmen while he and Valery stayed behind. 

The one who greeted them was the man who gave them advice at the beginning of the tourney. He was tall and confident, but his eyes were kind. 

He smiled down at the boys. “You have done well to survive this challenge,” he praised. “I am Darius Keline, captain of the Swordguard. Welcome to the team.”

Teo bowed. “Thank-thank you, sir.”

Bryn quickly followed suit. 

“I apologize for being so abrupt, but we have a very important mission back in the Royal City, and the High Priest will want to meet with you,” the Captain explained. “So, you’d better pack your things, and…”

He glanced at Valery, who was waiting for Bryn on the sidelines. He seemed almost sad for a moment, but quickly moved on.

“Say your goodbyes, and be prepared to move out,” he said. 

“When do we leave?” Bryn asked. 

“Tonight.” 

“Tonight? To go through the forest?” Bryn asked in alarm. 

“Yes,” the captain answered. “You have nothing to fear. You’re a member of the Swordguard now.” 

“Right,” Bryn said. 

Darius patted him on the back encouragingly. 

Then, the mayor rejoined them. He said a few words to the crowd about how brave and strong the boys were. He made mention of the veterans who were defeated and would retire—one being the burly guardsman that Bryn fought, and the other a fully armored Guardsman that Teo bested. The burly guy seemed to have accepted his loss, but the spiky girl did not. 

She glared at Bryn with a death stare that he could not avoid. 

Afterward, he and Teo retired from the square to prepare for their mission. They were patted and congratulated by many in the crowd as they passed through, but neither of them seemed to believe it—that out of all eighteen villagers, they were the ones who succeeded. 

At the end of the crowd, the boys parted ways. 

“I guess I’ll see you later,” Bryn said. 

Teo nodded. “Yeah, see you later.” 

Darius had instructed them to meet by the edge of town where the mountain path began. In the meantime, Bryn headed home to the inn with Valery. There was so much to be done. 

“I’ll help you pack,” she offered.

Seeing that he was doubtful, she added, “You’re gonna be great. Now, let me hear you say it!” 

“Say what?”

“I’m a Swordguard!” she answered.

“I’m a Swordguard,” he echoed. 

“You can do better than that!” she exclaimed. 

“I’m a Swordguard!” he said, puffing out his chest with false bravado.

“Much better!” 

She squeezed his hand as they walked. 

“Remember, I’ll be waiting for you here when you get back,” she assured him.

He kissed her softly. This is for the best.

 “Go make me proud!”

He nodded. “I will.”