FLAMES

13. Ezra

I crashed into a lady carrying fruits as I  rushed down the alley. The setting sun casted an orange light on her already frowning face.

"I'm so sorry. I was in such a hurry that I didn't see you there," I apologized out of breathe as I helped pick up the things I spilled.

She tucked her brown hair behind her ears and took the fruits from me without saying a word. She cleaned the little stain on her blue kirtle and walked away without giving me another glance.

Way to go Kyrian, you pissed the lady off so badly.

I sighed miserably, before turning back to the task at hand. Someone had informed me that Lancelot was fighting in the pit today.

The pit was a dangerous place to be. People who fought there always fought dirty. A person could get killed and no one would be blamed for it.

Lancelot will be the death of me someday! Why will he choose to fight in the pit? Is he trying to get himself killed?

The multiple thoughts tormented my head. I just couldn't seem to understand why Lancelot would choose to do something so reckless. He didn't even need the extra cash. We were both knights of Ezra and the King paid us both in golden coins.

Why doesn't he think before he acts?

I was almost at the pit. It was just at the end of the lane. I could hear people cheering and screaming out of excitement.

If Bakira was here, he would have. . .

With Bakira gone, Lancelot was the only brother I had left. It was up to me to protect him. It was a duty passed from Bakira unto me. I was going to honor it. I was going to protect him no matter what.

I finally made it to the pit. It was a very large arena with a huge circular space in the center for fighters to face one another. There were a lot of ladies present here. They were all screaming his name.

I went further in and manuevered my way to the front of the pit where the fights were ongoing. Then I relaxed a bit when I spotted him just entering the pit.

He was shirtless. He only had on dark breeches and a pair of boots. He rolled pieces of clothes round each his fists. I threw a glance to my left and noticed the lady standing beside me, staring passionately at Lancelot. I recognised her. Lancelot had had a fling with her once.

"Look at the way the setting sun bounces off his moist fair skin. It gives his sexy chest the aura of a god. See the way each sweat droplets flows from his dark hair down to the ground. His handsome face as it glints in the sun. His height as he over shadows all the other men in this place. Oh Lancelot. . .my Lancelot. . ." She uttered dreamily. She squeezed her dark dress tightly as she kept staring at Lancelot.

For a moment, I searched her side hoping to find the one she was talking to but I saw no one.

Only the gods know what Lancelot has done to this poor woman.

"Oh he's so beautiful! Imagine this bad boy in bed!" Another woman on my other side said. Her companions shrieked excitedly at her comments.

Lancelot was a lady's men. It was well known by all. I just didn't realise to what extent he had an effect on them.

Suddenly, Lancelot's opponent entered the pit. The crowd went wild with masculine screams. This was the person every wise man had put their bet on. He was tested and trusted.

They called him 'The Ghost.' He was huge compared to Lancelot and he looked vicious. There was a large scar starting from his face all the way down to his chest. He had a full beard rested on his pale skin. He had a no nonsense expression, as well as aura. If appearance always mattered in fights, then Lancelot had no chance against him.