Chapter: The tournament I

Chapter 1: The Tournament I.

Raffael struggled through the crowded streets with Marie and Fadime. Large parts were cordoned off and countless guardsmen from all regiments and temples lined the paths on which the tournament participants on their decorated horses made their way to the old, Garetian residence.
Cheers and enthusiastic calls from the well over two hundred thousand present accompanied the fighters. Children tried again and again to bypass the barriers to press a wreath of flowers on their favorite fighters and wish them luck.
Days before it began, the whole city had been decorated with flowers, colored ribbons and pennants from the Middle Kingdom royal houses. The banner of the Middle Kingdom emperors was emblazoned under the crown of rascals on almost every major building: the golden griffin on a red background.
From the upper floors of the houses women threw flower petals at the warriors, confectioners, chicken roasters and wine stands lined the streets, extolled their wares and filled the air with a delicious smell.Jugglers had come from all over the country and accompanied the triumphant entry with music and dance.
Raphael and his family came here for the same reason. Where better to make money than where almost the entire continent came together?
It would have been best if the circus had been allowed to move into Altgareth, where the high-ranking personalities and nobles had set up camp. Raphael had applied for a special permit for this, but only a few showman troops had received this privilege. Unfortunately, the newly founded sons of the desert were not granted this privilege. The circus was being rebuilt and was therefore still very small. The troops known throughout Aventuria had been admitted and even if Raffael was otherwise not happy about competition, everything was different today. He had met many friends of his father and mother again. Talking, laughing and reminiscing with them, Fadime and Pawla.It was now two years since he and his sister started rebuilding the circus. In the short time and the limited financial means they had achieved a lot. Not least thanks to the active support of Karim and his family. Karim and his brother Eslam helped wherever they could and their manual skills had often paid off.
The two brothers, who at the beginning were not very enthusiastic about a driving life, quickly got used to it and found pleasure in being here today and there tomorrow.
You saw something of the world, didn't have to worry about taxes and only took what you needed to live. Even if you maybe relieved someone else - mostly people who would collapse under the weight of their own fortune - for a little something.
Raffael had meanwhile developed into a passable thief. Most of the time he kept his little forays secret from Marie.She couldn't really get used to it and often, he had already been allowed to sleep outside the common camp, when something had reached her ear again. Raffael just couldn't prevail against them. Sometimes he felt like a child being scolded by its mother. Pawla and Fadime were always on their side and no man was able to prevail against three rabid women!
There really had been three! But at least he had a fellow sufferer. Karim was no different. Often they would sit together in front of their tents when their wives had kindly complimented them and drank a bottle of wine, complained about their fate and blasphemed. Usually Eslam joined them a few minutes later.
He had made a woman from his home village his own and brought her with him too. And she complemented the trio of women. It seemed to be a common disease for women to make life difficult for their husbands ..."Oh gods!" Fadime grumbled, "It's evening by the time we have reached the show grounds!"
bumped past a man's bear, not without using her elbows. In her hand she held her three-year-old son Nathanael, who padded enthusiastically afterwards.
"I'm not saying that I said it!" muttered Raffael. He tried to push past the dark giant and pulled Marie with him. The colossus didn't really want to give way. Why did women always have to insist on being right? He had warned Marie and Fadime not to watch on the first day. It wouldn't be getting through. He told them that. But the women had insisted on being part of the parade.
"Yes, yes, you can give us a sermon afterwards that you were right!" Fadime scolded backwards without turning around and turned her attention back to the front. "May I go through?"
Raffael rolled his eyes. He hadn't seen anything from the tournament and had enough already.With so many people in one place, he always felt uncomfortable and lost.
He squeezed past the man who was blocking his way and bumped into him more than he had actually wanted. His broad back was dressed in a waistcoat, sewn in a tuamidy manner, and the dark blue turban covered black curls that went up to the shoulder.
"Hey," the man growled, but his protest was drowned in the cheers of the bystanders.
"Wait," gasped Marie behind him, "Please, not so fast." She gave Raphael's hand a strong squeeze.
Raffael turned around and waited for her to unlock. Marie took a few deep breaths and then looked at him with a flushed face. Raffael grinned broadly at her and wanted to start to speak.
"Yes, I know .." interrupted Marie panting, "you said yes!"
Raphael's grin widened a bit, but then more concerned.
"Are you okay again?"
Marie straightened up completely, took another deep breath and nodded.
"Yes"The witcher turned back to the front and looked in the crowd for his sister who had left him behind. Screaming would have done little. So he continued to work his way between the people
"Hey, at least excuse yourselves," growled a dark male voice with a Novadic accent from behind them and then disappeared into the crowd. Raffael turned around in surprise and walked over to the individual people. Then he shook his head with a smile.
"What do you have?" asked Marie worried.
Raffael looked into her blue eyes.
"Oh nothing. I thought I saw someone I knew" He looked at the people again, but there was no one he knew. He looked back at Marie and smiled at her with shining eyes.
"Come over!"

The gymnastics grounds were right in front of them. All they had to do was pass through the great gate and the great wall around Altgareth. People poured in by the thousands. Guardsmen and volunteers struggled to keep an eye on the crowd.Raffael and Marie had caught up with Fadime, who, however, had lost her boy in the crowd and was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Raffael had swallowed his rising anger and went on a search. Marie stayed with her to calm her down.
Raffael rummaged through the crowd and asked every other child about the child, but no one had seen it. As well as?
He swore softly to himself. He hadn't wanted to come here, and taking a three-year-old with him was the stupidest thing his sister had ever hatched on her mind. He is surprised that Karim allowed this. Now they had the salad.
Raffael searched the crowd and the few vacancies. He looked at the fighters who rode past in their heavy plates on the armored steeds.
One rider was engaged in a stimulating discussion with an obvious magician, others were accompanied by their squires and blacksmiths, and still others by pretty little ladies or gentlemen.Raphael's gaze fell on a muscular rider who wore the blue and yellow coat of arms of the Amazons. She was dressed in light brown leather armor and the white cloak of the rondra waved around her shoulders. >> A consecrated woman << he thought, impressed. At her side hung an expensive Amazon saber in a finely worked scabbard. She carried the lance for the stab as if it weighed nothing in her left hand. Several brightly colored flower wreaths adorned the lower part of the deadly weapon.
The woman wore an iron helmet from which a long, thin braid of reddish hair peeked out. The helmet allowed a glimpse of the shaved sides of her head. She had proudly turned her gaze forward.
The mighty black and white steed led them with ease and despite the tremendous noise of the spectators, the animal was unimpressed and stepped forward, trusting its rider.
The Amazon was an impressive figure. Raffael had never seen one before.An elderly man, about fifty years of age, rode by her side. He too was awesome.
The long blond mane that would have rivaled a lion was blowing in the warming spring wind. His face was scarred and he wore an eye patch.
The still seeing eye looked alternately at the amazon or at the crowd.
He wielded the lance just as playfully as the woman. At his side hung a mighty rondra ridge that could literally divide a person in half.
The man, almost six feet tall, was dressed in a fine cloth. Red, brown and yellow tones alternated. The heavy chain mail stood out under the noble men's clothing and a long, white, velvet cloak with the golden head of a lion was embroidered on his shoulders.
Raffael held his breath. He knew this coat of arms. This man was one of the Red Councilors. He was one of the most consecrated on the Rondra. He was a legend. Rondrasil Lion Brandy.A name that went hand in hand with the names of Kaiser Hals, his son Brin or the sword master Raidri Conchobairs. Heroes of the Middle Kingdom.
Rondrasil Lionbrand had been in the fight against Borbarad. Together with Yppolita, the then Queen of the Amazons, he had led the sword campaign against Islur and with only 150 warriors freed the city from overwhelming odds.
Since Helme Haffax, there had been no better strategist than him. And this man was his equal.
Raffael swallowed a few times until he was free from his stupor and the cheering of the people had returned to his consciousness.
His gaze slowly returned to the Amazon, who was stretched out another wreath of flowers by a girl. She accepted him with a smile and lifted the child onto her horse. The people could no longer be stopped from cheering.