"Step forward" the magi Shernost spoke, loud enough to be heard by not only the two swordsmen, but the crowd of other warriors and lords who gathered to watch the death match.
Vic Griffiths gripped his sword tighter and walked forward, he was as far from the favourite of winning as it was possible to be, but such was the unpopularity of his opponent, Grozenge the Reaver, that a few brave souls gave him nods of good luck, even if they were nothing like as powerful as the cheers and foot stamping for his opponent -- everyone likes a winner, especially one who when he wins will be crowned King. The two men approached each other, sword in one hand, shield held in the other, half-helms covering their heads and with mail shirts that reached down to their elbows and knees over tough leather smock and leggings; neither man could be equipped differently from the other, it would all come down to skill, a battle between the hardened warrior who killed his first opponent when he was ten and a teenager, barely out of High School, who'd only found himself in this world days before.
There was a line the sand and as Shernost had instructed him earlier he halted there. Grozenge was taking his time approaching his own, basking in the approval and cheers of the crowd and noting those who's cheering was less than enthusiastic. It allowed Vic time to briefly glance over at the woman they were fighting for; she was wearing a loose dress, which exposed more than was proper of her bosoms and her blonde hair spilled down onto her naked shoulders.
She saw he was looking and though she looked like she was about to cry she forced a smile and mouthed 'good luck'.
"Thanks Mom," Vic said back, so quietly that only he and Shernost could hear. The Magi made no sign he cared, there was no rule which prevented the combatants talking to the prize. Instead he waited until Grozenge was at the line and then raised his hands, before lowering them. It wasn't magic, but it was still impressive how the crowd, noisy and rumbustious a moment before, went silent at his signal.
For a moment all was quiet and then Shernost spoke in a big booming voice, "We are here for the prophecy. When old King Huther fell and our people were split asunder, his Magi had a vision. He dreamed of a Queen, a woman from the worlds across the dreamscape, where science holds sway. She would be blonde and beautiful" Vic glanced over again, his Mom fitted that description, "and arrive in a metal box, with glass so smooth it would be like water." With some artistic license that could be the car which one moment had been driving them back from the store and the next was sitting in a muddy track with a dozen warriors around it shouting and trying to control their rearing horses
"She would marry a great warrior, who reunite the tribes and rule them justly and wisely," Shernost cast a look at Grozenge there before gazing at Vic. The prophecies didn't lie, he had assured Vic, which might suggest that Vic had a small chance, as neither justice or wisdom were attributes Grozenge had shown any sign of before. "It has been a hundred years, more as some say it, but she has arrived, the Queen Deborah of the clan Griffiths," he swung his arm towards her as if anyone in the arena hadn't been aware and then back towards the two men beside him.
"Grozenge the Reaver claims her. It was on his land she appeared and it was his men who found her and bound her and brought her to the City of the Kings. He says that shows the Gods intend her to be his and for him to be the one who fulfils the prophecy." As most of the warriors and lords agreed with his interpretation, even if few liked it, Shernost paused for the cheers and hammering of shields and spear hafts on the ground.
After a few moments he raised his hands again and then lowered them, shushing the crowd. "Facing him is her son, Victor of clan Griffiths. He holds that Grozenge is no man fit for the Queen and that she should be allowed to choose someone better, himself." Vic shook his head urgently, that wasn't what he had said, at least the bit about it being him, it was his Mom after all and no matter how strange this land was to him, he couldn't believe that they'd ever interpret a guy not wanting his Mom to marry a dyed in the wool psychopath as him wanting to marry her himself.
However, they didn't seem to get that as Shernost carried on speaking, "As there are two men who would marry Queen Deborah and claim the Kingship it must be settled between them by battle, to the death."
Grozenge spat and grinned, Vic gulped and nodded.
"To the death..." repeated Shernost and stepped backwards as the two combatants lifted their arms.
*
Earlier that day...
The rooms beneath the arena weren't dungeon cells, but it would have been an easy mistake to make. There was even a guard outside and if the door was unlocked, Vic had little doubt that he was not free to wander and the man outside was more than an ornament. A torch burnt beside the wooden door, and a new torch placed, regularly on the hour, to replace the old before it went out. The only window was a small rectangular one, set so high up in the wall that the only way Vic had been able to see out was to take a running jump to grab the sill with his fingers and hoist himself up to enjoy a few moments in the light before his grip gave way.
A little while before, not longer after the torch change Shernost had come with a few guards. He had explained the rules, not that they were complicated, two men identically armed and armoured went in, one came out. As he was talking the guards had been piling the armour on the table opposite, there was no sword as off yet, he supposed they didn't trust him with it -- whether they'd thought he'd kill himself or the guard he was uncertain.
"You don't believe the prophecy?" Shernost had asked when he'd explained the rules. In the few days Vic had known the Magi he had realised the man might be superstitious and have an unreasonable belief in supernatural portents and signs, but he was also shrewd and highly intelligent, more educated in his world than Vic had been on his own.
"No," the young man said bluntly. "The idea someone know that it would be my Mom driving through that crack a hundred years ago is bullshit, the prophecy is vague it could have been anyone and the bit about her husband uniting the tribes is just some garnish added on."
"But if men believe it's true it is true," Shernost said. He shrugged, "I do not like the Reaver, he is a cruel man and I will not deny you the truth that he would be a poor husband, who will beat your mother and fuck her as and when, whether she is willing or not. But if he marries her people will believe he is the King and they will follow him, no-one will say that the prophecy said a hundred years and it is a hundred a twelve or that your... car, was that what you called it? A shortening for cart? Anyway no-one will say a car is not a box. Nor will they wonder why the prophecy made no mention of you or why we all assumed that it would be a young maiden, not a mother widowed."
"Are you saying it could have been anyone?" Vic said, "We just happened to be the unlucky ones, just driving along and we fell into a crack between your world and mine."
"Not anyone, no, but whilst the prophecy is vague and details are wrong, the truth is not in dispute, it was a woman, who was blonde and beautiful." He grinned and Vic wasn't going to gainsay him on his Mom's beauty, all his friends thought she was hot and to be honest, if she hadn't been his Mom he'd have probably thought the same. Shernost was continuing on, "Nor would I say it was a crack but a passage, less random than you think, there are powers in your world that your science cannot know off, even if they do not have the power they have here and if the Gods wanted to move your mother from one world to the other they would do it."
Vic snorted in derision, but Shernost just gave a smile and shrug, "But you're here aren't you."
It was a simple truth, one that was impossible to argue with. The older man had tried to explain it when he first met Vic and his Mom after they'd first been delivered to the temple/university/library (or whatever it was Shernost had said it was all these things and more) "Our two worlds are like mirrors of each other, they may be cracked and scoured and may not give a perfect reflection, but what happens in one happens in the other, it is why we can speak the same words and if you had a map of your world it would match ours with the same beasts and birds. But whilst the Gods left you to your science and reason, they remained here with us, walking amongst us unseen and giving us the gift of magic and spellcraft. Sometimes they move men or woman between them, when they arrive here we call it prophecy and a sign from Gods, you call it madness and do whatever you do with the insane -- do you still burn them?"
