Malcolm stood over his defeated foe and lifted his sword. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause at his victory.
Knowing he was the crowd favorite helped him gain an edge on his opponents, and it was something he intended to cherish as long as possible. Eventually, their love for him would fade and he would be on the ground bleeding out.
He turned to face the king and kneeled, holding his sword out in supplication. While doing so, he couldn’t help but wonder how long before his food or drink was laced with the poison that would slow his reflexes.