From the royal box in the stands, the King and Queen could see everything- the field of play, the audience in attendance, even the outlines of the city in the distance. Todays tournament would be a mêlée with combatants flailing away at each other with sword, mace and axe- some on horseback- others on foot. The crowd was raucous, shouting encouragement at their favorite fighters and abuse at their opponents. Pirouette smiled to herself as she watched the peasants pass flagons of wine among themselves.
King GarGar raised his hand and the trumpets began to blare. When he brought his hand down, the trumpets ceased and the fighters entered the field. Without ceremony, they began to attack each other. Queen Pirouette drew a breath as the first casualty’s helmet was ripped of his head and he received a cruel blow from the hilt of a sword right in the forehead. Servants dressed in white with red crosses on their backs scurried onto the field and extracted the wounded fighter.
The crowd went wild.