Simspiration: Competition
Competition
"Anything you can do, I can do better. I can do anything better than you."
Set In my Tudor Legacy in about two chapters. Do not be surprised if you see this again. Kids names withheld to keep SOME suspense. Hence the VERY un period name of Munchkin.
~*~
"Blast!" the teen swore as he missed his target.
From beside them, their instructor's voice called out. "The point is to hit the center of the targets, Munchkin. From where your axe landed I say that your opponent wouldn't be able to father children but they could still kill you."
"You hear that, sib? You'd be so dead!" their younger brother's voice called out.
"Shut up, Princess!" Munchkin countered without looking at his brother.
"Are you going to stand for that?" Princess demanded, turning toward their instructor.
The older man shrugged. "It's as good a nickname as any. If I can call Munchkin, Munchkin because of their size, they can call you Princess because of your hair."
The boy's hands flew to his long blond hair. "My hair is not feminine!"
"It's more feminine than mine!" Munchkin shot back, unable to resist throwing another dig at his brother, before going back to examining his last throw. The instructor was right, he would have emasculated their opponent with that last axe.
"Sir," Munchkin asked his instructor. "If I did hit there, wouldn't my opponent be too distracted by their sudden descent into eunuch-dom to be able to fight back effectively. All it would take is one sword strike and it would be over."
"Perhaps," the older man considered. "However do you really want to take that chance? Remember, that any time you have to draw or pick up your weapon you are vulnerable to attack. And that an enraged enemy is an unpredictable enemy. They may be more clumsy and easy to get hits on, but they strike with more power and will ignore hits that would fell a less angered man."
"It sounds like you have experience with the subject," Princess interjected from the sidelines.
The man smiled. "I have seen my fair share of battle, children, and while I hope that none of you will have to use the skills I am teaching you. I am not naive enough to think you won't. Better prepared than dead."
"Well said, Sir Owen," a soft masculine voice said from behind.
The three all turned to face the speaker, a fully armored man , with varying expressions of wariness on their faces. Munchkin stepped forward, his eyes narrowed. "And who might you be?" he asked, shifting his stance slightly to make drawing his dagger easier.
The man held up his hands to show he was unarmed and then raised them to slowly remove his helmet. "I'm Larch Ventinari, your neighbor. I was passing by and decided I might want to introduce myself to my future wife."
Munchkin raised an eyebrow. "Your future wife?"
"Sir Owen knows whom I mean."
"Father?" Princess asked from where he sat.
Owen looked at the two teens, his eyes flashing in warning. "He means my daughter, Judith."
Princess' eyes darted from Munchkin to Owen then over to the Ventinari trying to read the three's expressions. "Does Judith know of this future husband?" he asked finally.
"She does. She's known since she was a child that someday she would wed with Lord Ventinari here."
"Oh."
During the exchange, Larch's face betrayed little although his mouth twitched occasionally as if he were trying to keep from smirking. "As interesting as this exchange is, it doesn't get me any closer to meeting my bride."
"I'm afraid she is not readily available however you can see her at supper. If you would like us to stable your horse and put up your men. I believe my wife can provide you with a place to freshen up and remove your armor. I will join you directly once I finish with my lesson here."
"By all means, continue, teaching one's children is one of the greatest pleasures a man can enjoy," Larch said sketching a quick bow.
The three waited until he had disappeared inside the keep before speaking and when it was it was Munchkin who spoke. "Hey Princess, I wager that I can hit more bullseyes than you."
"Pfft," Princess snorted. "Not with your aim. Maybe Eunuch-maker should be your new nickname."
"Perhaps. But I don't think that some people would appreciate it nearly as much. Besides, at least I'm able to hit the target unlike some people I could mention."
"So best 3 throws, Father judges."
"You're on!"