King of Lions
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Then the Order doctors were worrying after Rosetta, and Keaton stepped back to let them tend to her wounds.
Representatives for the various Parchments and Speakers asked him questions and he answered. Yes, he and Rosetta were in a relationship. Yes, he was very impressed with her performance. Yes, he was very prepared for his fight with Mantis.
It worried him that this last felt like a lie.
“What do you think about the announcement,” one of the writers asked, “that Rosetta is set to fight the Queen of Foxes in just over a month?”
Keaton was confused. “Doesn’t the Queen have at least one more fight between now and then?” he asked. “Rosetta should have at least 12 weeks preparation time.”
"Shinen was next in line, but she was injured in training,” the writer said. “Rosetta is stepping in to replace her. What do you think of the match up?”
Keaton felt cold. “I think Rosetta is ready for anything,” he said.
This also felt like a lie.
Keaton looked through the mob of people and stared at Rosetta. She was sitting on a stool, eyes closed as the Order doctor stitched up her arm. She looked so small sitting there.
He had to train her, and he had to beat Mantis. So he would do both.
If that was even possible.
Malcolm W. Keyes
Malcolm W. Keyes is the pseudonym of a published author who wishes to keep his self-published works separate from his traditionally-published ones. While Malcolm is not a real person, he believes his writing is every bit as good as his creator’s. The lack of a physical body perturbs him, but he is nonetheless happy to exist.
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King of Lions - Malcolm W. Keyes
King of Lions
Malcolm W. Keyes
Copyright 2012 Malcolm W. Keyes
Smashwords Edition
Discover other titles by Malcolm W. Keyes at Smashwords.com:
Lamppost
A Dream for Annie
Fox and the Rest of Us
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase a copy for yourself. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Table of Contents
Copyright
Midpoint
Author
King of Lions
by Malcolm W. Keyes
~
Keaton put his hand to his heart, staggered dramatically in a circle, eyes rolling, sucking in desperate gasps of breath, and collapsed into the dirt.
The little boy with the wooden sword stood mesmerized by his handiwork. When Keaton popped up and opened his eyes, the little boy laughed, looked at this parents, and said, I beat the King of Lion Class.
You sure did, sweetie,
his mother said, gently leading him away. Come on. Master Keaton has many other people to see before his day is done.
The boy looked at Keaton sadly.
You, sir,
Keaton said, are a fine swordsman.
The boy smiled bravely and saluted, the hilt of his sword pressed to his chest. Keaton returned the gesture, and watched as the boy allowed himself to be led away by his mother. The boy moved with a confidence he hadn’t possessed only a minute before, thoughtfully twirling his sword. This was something Keaton loved about the job—empowering the youth, turning the innate human drive to kill into a motivator to excel. One man in the ring meant one man who wasn’t out on the dunes, one man not putting the torch to oasis farms and cutting innocent throats for gold.
Keaton continued toward Emerick’s table to congratulate him on his retirement. It was only a quarter mile across the floor of the Dome, but it took Keaton nearly a half hour to make the walk, maneuvering through merchant stalls and stopping every few steps to sign autographs for the fight fans who had gathered to celebrate Emerick’s achievements. A few people, representatives of the Speakers and the Parchments mostly, had charcoal sticks that could sketch his likeness in seconds, and Keaton found himself posing majestically with his sword drawn at least half a dozen times.
When Keaton finally arrived at Emerick’s table, Emerick was already drunk and smiling his smile that made his eyes disappear. His beautiful wife Maya leaned against him, her head on his shoulder, dark hair spilling down his scarred brown arms.
King of Lions!
Emerick said. Take a seat, brother.
Keaton and Emerick couldn’t have been more different— Emerick was a huge man with heavy, dark features that identified him a southerner from Oolauka, while Keaton was trim and fair with pink scars instead of brown—but despite their differing lineages, Emerick called Keaton brother.
You’re enjoying your party, I see,
Keaton said.
Oh, too much,
Emerick said, but they tell me I’ve earned it.
Keaton shook Emerick’s massive hand. That you have, my friend.
Kicking people in the leg,
Emerick said. That’s what this whole party is for. One strong right kick and the ability to keep my damn hands up.
There’s more to your game than that, and you know it.
Maybe,
Emerick said. You done with all your hibbity-shit for the Parchments?
Sadly, no,
Keaton said. I just came by to congratulate you. I’ve still got the stare down with Mantis—
Emerick grumbled something that almost certainly ended