He comes to me first. Takes my foil. Holds the handle in one hand, and the tip, the foible, in the other. “Si deus pro nobis, quis contra nos?”
From a small vial, he administers what I realize is holy oil, anointing the tip.
"Amen," I say, make the sign of the cross, and take it back.
He proceeds down the rest. Callahan, and then Lanz. And then we're up and off. The tournament is chaotic, or feels that way. Multiple bouts going at once. Fencers weaving in between, scores buzzing, and officials shouting.
Shelton’s facing Whitford—the foilist from Villa Loyola—so I’m not up yet. Instead, I sit and watch Kai.
"En garde," the official says.
I size up the opponent. Roughly the same size as Kai. Not someone I knew. A freshman, most likely, for Villa Loyola. Keeps energy in his feet. Rocking gently but swiftly back and forth. Kai doesn't move. Tense to the end.
"Fencers ready?"
"Yes," says the Villa Loyola sabrist.
Kai just nods.
"Allez!"
Kai whips forward in a vicious flèche, sailing above the strip and cleanly striking his opponent on the shoulder just as the other sabre lifts his blade. Only one light flares on the scoreboard. Green for left.
But Kai's on the right.
"Touch right," says the official. “Huang one, Pendragon zero. En garde."
Kai gives his arm a firm shake as he goes back to the guard line, muttering something. Take it easy, Kai, I think. A little frustration is tolerable, but there's a thin line between an acceptable reaction and a yellow card. And if anyone's going to cross, it would be Kai.
"Fencerss ready?—”
Two nods.
“—allez!”
Again, Kai's aggressive. Two steps and a leap. Huang’s arm whips out, but Kai buries the tip of his saber in the crook of his elbow as it stretches, the blade flexing, just as Huang’s saber finds Kai's chest.
Again, the green light.
"Touch right."
I breathe out. That doesn't look right. I can't be sure. It happened so fast, and I'm not about to challenge the ref without certainty, but something like this is not going to sit well with Kai.
“Huang two, Pendragon zero. En garde. Fencers ready?”
Now Kai is moving behind the line, practically quaking.Don't, Kai, I think.Stay focused. They're watching. Everyone's watching. Without even meaning to, I look at the stands again to Gwenna. She's fixed on him, too, of course. I wish I knew what she was thinking. I look back to Kai, praying for a clean hit.
"Allez," calls the ref.
This time it's Huang who tries to flèche, leaping, but Kai's faster. He ducks, bends, thrusts upward with the saber, andlands dead center in his chest, skating off the side under his arm with the blade bent. It should have been a touch, and yet...
The scoreboard is dark. Huang lands hard, backpedals to recover, but Kai is motionless. He looks at the scoreboard, looks at the ref.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he yells.
My heart sinks.Kai, don't, I think, or maybe I say out loud.
"That's the third time in a fucking row,” he cries. “I got a touch. You can't see that?" The ref's eyes narrow. "Are you blind or just paid off? Because this is actually ridiculous."
