Chapter 6
The Challenge was held every three months after the new recruits from the current recruiting cycle had spent their time training along the borders of civilization. At the Challenge, each unit would be paired with a different unit and they would compete in archery, equitation, fencing, hand-to-hand combat, and fighting from horseback. The winner of each set would then be paired with another winning unit and would then repeat the competitions; the winner would go on and the losers would withdraw from the competition. This was repeated until one unit was declared the winner. No one knew what the victors received as a prize. The Challenge was meant to test their skills as well as to sharpen them. Tristan’s group arrived several days ahead of the Challenge date, but this was planned to give the men time to rest and prepare for the event. Each unit was granted the use of a gaily-colored pavilion equipped with cots and a few other amenities as the whole event could take from several days to weeks, depending on how many units were competing. Each unit would compete only once a day, and the judges would be senior officers within the Order. The leader of the unit would not compete with his men, but there was a separate Challenge in which the unit leaders competed against each other. Each unit leader had also kept a logbook of their unit’s adventures, training, and encounters along the way; these were also used in judging the outcome of the Challenge. The weapons used were fake, but could still inflict quite a sting if not blocked or dodged. Tristan felt his men well-prepared for the Challenge though he wondered what the Order would think of his logbook.
The morning of the Challenge dawned clear and cold; the men gathered early for warm-up exercises and roll-call. Everyone looked sharp in their new uniforms; the uniforms they had worn on campaign could hardly be recognized as such. The pairings were announced and five pairs each moved to a different area to begin their first Challenge. The archery and equitation were individual competitions with a score being given and the team acquiring a cumulative score in that area for the day. The other three areas were competitions between members of opposing units matched up by age, experience, and build. After a unit finished its five competition areas for the day they could rest, practice, or observe as they wished. The winners of each pairing were declared after everyone had finished for the day and the losers were excused from the competition and the winners were given a new opponent for the following day. At night there were talks given by high-ranking officials within the Order on a myriad of topics, most interesting only to the presenter. Afterwards, the losing teams indulged in a variety of fermented beverages but those who still had to compete refrained, at least officially. After the first few days winnowed out the majority of the units, the unit leaders’ Challenge began. Theirs was similar to the unit Challenge except they competed as individuals rather than as a team. Tristan’s team competed well the first day and won their first Challenge with no doubt as to their success. This pattern continued throughout the Challenge until the final day when they were paired with their last opponent for the concluding round of competition.
A wind blew cold from the North, dreary grey clouds hung low on the horizon, and a constant drizzle fell as the two units faced each other and bowed before beginning this final competition. The opposing unit was led by a man called Brisbane; he was a seasoned commander and had led many expeditions into the Wilds and was the favorite to win both the unit and leaders’ competitions. He had done so five years running. He glared at Tristan and his men with his single eye; Tristan recognized him as the pompous windbag who had tried to lop off Pallin’s head so many months ago in Astoria. Brisbane thought the young leader looked familiar somehow but could not place him. Tristan’s team was thought to be the weakest of those assembled due to his lack of experience within the Order and his relative youth as a commander. But so far, they had exceeded everyone’s expectations except Tristan’s; he knew they were well-trained and ready to prove it. He was pleased with their progress. Brisbane’s men were good, but his training methods were based on years of study and academic thought whereas Tristan’s were based on years in the field; he knew what worked and what did not. Whereas Brisbane thought if it was taught in a military academy it was sacred. Tristan took what was useful and threw out or modified that which was not. While Brisbane’s men were well-trained in basic military theory and thought, and trained in field tactics later, Tristan’s were well-versed in the more practical side of things and acquired a military mindset almost by default.
As the competition progressed, Tristan’s men drew ahead slightly in each round until the final trial which would be a six-on-six fight in the saddle. The last man in the saddle would win the round and likely the Challenge. The two lines of horsemen faced each other, the trumpet sounded, and they charged. One of Tristan’s men was unhorsed immediately. Two of Brisbane’s men fell next. Another of Tristan’s men fell. Another of Brisbane’s men was down. One of Tristan’s men and one of Brisbane’s unseated each other. A horse stumbled on the uneven ground and one of Tristan’s men was thrown from his saddle. Bristol faced off against the second-in-command of Brisbane’s unit. With a roar, the man dug his heels into his horse’s flanks and charged Bristol. Bristol pulled his horse up short, pulling alongside the charging man, and pushed him out of his saddle. Bristol won the day. The unhorsed man grabbed his wooden sword and charged the stunned Bristol on foot. Bristol cantered his horse out of range of the enraged man and the judges quickly chased him off the field. As he was led away, he glared at Bristol and Tristan. It seemed Brisbane’s training was not the only thing he passed along to his men.
The final round of the Unit Leaders’ Challenge was also scheduled for that day. As it turned out, Tristan was to face off with Brisbane. The man glared at Tristan with his one good eye, not seeming to have improved at all in manners since their first meeting. Brisbane could not remember meeting Tristan but he knew he hated him. His rage was stoked even hotter by the fact that his unit had just lost to this no-name upstart from nowhere. He would show the world who the ultimate Knight of the Order was. They were evenly matched in archery and equitation, though Tristan pulled ahead in the equitation class because the mare knew almost before he did what to do and where to go. Tristan won the sword competiton, barely. Brisbane eked out a win in the hand-to-hand combat. The final match would be a battle on horseback. The mare reared and screamed in anticipation; she loved a good fight. Brisbane’s stallion screamed back in challenge at the strange mare who acted like a stud. The trumpet blew and they charged. There were many near misses. The war-trained stallion tried to bite and kick at the mare and her rider (though this was strictly forbidden in the rules) and his master would not check him. The mare was quick and agile, avoiding the worst of his violence; her rider did the same. Brisbane lashed out as one trying to fell a tree. Finally, the judges’ horses pushed through the frenzy and drove the pair apart. Brisbane was disqualified for unnecessary violence and inattention to his horse’s behavior. He glared murder at Tristan. They were not finished.
It was a feat unrivaled in the history of the Order; never had an underdog captain and his unit come out the victors in the Challenge. At first, everyone fell silent in amazement and then a raucous cheer rose from the assembled spectators. One by one, the officials and judges came forward and congratulated the stunned men. They had expected to do well but nothing like this! Eventually the noise and confusion died down and everyone was assembled into some semblance of order. Unit leaders and their men were reassigned based upon their performance during the Challenge and also upon the records kept by the unit leader. Men were assigned for further training, to serve in various open posts and positions wherever the Order held sway, or were assigned to new units that were being assembled for training or assignment. That night, a celebratory feast was held and then the highest-ranking member of the Order present gave an attempt at a rousing dismissal speech. Each man returned to his bed early for tomorrow they were to disperse before su
nrise. The men said goodbye to their unit leaders and their comrades; it would be a long time before many of the men saw each other again. The orders for Tristan's unit were simply to report to Order headquarters in Panmycea five days hence.
The bugle call roused everyone from their beds and camp was broken quickly. Groups assembled heading in every direction possible. By noon, no one remained but Tristan and his men. It was a three-day ride to Panmycea, and he intended to let his men and horses rest a day before heading out. The men were happy to have at least a little more time together before they must part ways, but they knew it was coming. The next day they broke camp and rode leisurely for their assigned destination. Nothing of note happened upon their road, but each man enjoyed the presence of his comrades for what they knew might be the last time for many years to come. They had grown close as only men who have shared much time and danger together could. It would be a sad parting but the memories would be cherished and long-remembered. On the fourth day after the Challenge, they arrived in Panmycea, a city of no small size and subject to no one but the Order. A small company of men dressed in the uniform of the Order aroused no comment as they rode through the crowded streets. After so many months in the wilderness, such bustling streets were almost foreign to Tristan's men. They gawked about as if they had never seen a city street before.
They rode towards the towering Citadel in the center of the city. The gate lay open but was barred by stern looking Knights of the Order. Before he was allowed through, Tristan had to present his copy of his orders which were carefully scrutinized by the guards. A harsh order brought a scurrying clerk out of the guardhouse. A brief exchange brought the needed information and Tristan was told to take his men and report to the Master of the Stables who would see to their horses. Then they were to report to a Captain named Karly. They were waved through and did as they were bidden. The mare was very unhappy to be left to such a handler though she did her best to act as she thought a meek and normal horse would in such a circumstance; the effect looked much like a lion pretending to be a kitten, but it was the best she thought she could do. Tristan walked away muttering about the pride of certain unicorns. She pretended not to hear. A servant found them near the stables and led them deep into the castle where they soon found themselves in Captain Karly's chambers. They bowed formally in greeting.
"Welcome and well done," said Karly. "I have heard much of your unexpected victory, and my apologies to you, Tristan on the behavior of Brisbane during that final round. I am not sure what came over him but he will be disciplined for his lack of etiquette." Tristan inclined his head in thanks. "Now," Karly continued, "you are probably wondering why you are here. As tradition has it, the winners of each Challenge are invited to attend the Banquet of the High Council that routinely follows each Challenge. This is quite an honor for men of your standing within the Order. Only one hundred seats are available, and save for yourselves, only the highest ranking officers are allowed to attend. The banquet is tomorrow evening, and you will be given rooms in the Citadel until you are to leave for your next assignments. There will be much discussion given on the future plans of the Order at this meeting and you are hereby sworn to secrecy and silence. Nothing you hear shall be discussed with anyone else and you are not to speak during the meeting or the meal. Your presence is an honor but it is simply ceremonial. You will be severely punished if you do not comply with these requirements. Do you understand?" Each man nodded. "Good," he continued, "now go to your rooms and freshen up. I am sure you are weary after your journey." He bowed them out of the room and a servant led them to their quarters.
The men were billeted in a large room with six beds; Tristan had a small, comfortable room not far down the hall. Servants brought them their evening meal, a change of clothes, and warm water with which to cleanse themselves from the dust and sweat of travel. They talked and joked long into the night, simply enjoying one another’s company. Tristan bid them goodnight and retired to his room. He had much to think about. The next morning, they were woken early by a servant for breakfast; the balance of the day they were free to wander about the city or idle in the famed Gardens of the Unicorn. They returned to the Citadel in time to clean-up and change for the Banquet. The servant ushered them into a little alcove in the far back of a large dining hall. They seated themselves around the small table and waited silently for the Banquet to begin. A servant brought them food and refilled their beverages, but not a word was said during the whole course of the meal. After dinner, the meeting began. Tristan listened intently for anything that might interest the Brethren or the Lady.
Most of the meeting was simple formality with the acknowledgement of various trivial matters whose course of action had already been long decided. A few crusty old officers stood up and gave long-winded speeches of no consequence to anyone but themselves. Finally, the Master of the High Council stood up to make his remarks. The already hushed audience grew even quieter; everyone in the room easily heard the snores of one ancient officer until he was roused from his slumber.
The Master of the Council began, "welcome and good evening to all of you. As you know, we have increased our recruiting efforts and are hoping to swell the ranks of the Order well beyond its current size over the next few years. It has been decided by the Council and senior officers that we must move forward with our plan to extend the functions of the Order from a simple group of independent peacekeepers to an organization that has much greater influence within each nation, independent village and city-state. We hope to gradually increase our influence to be at least equal with the local authorities if not superior to them. We are the cream of humanity's crop and our place is at the top of every nation, state, and village! No one is better suited to usher in this era of peace and harmony than the Order of the Unicorn..."
The speech was lost in uproarious applause. Once the assembly was quiet, he continued to outline his plan for accomplishing his goal of world domination. Currently advisors were being assigned to leaders in all parts of the world (such as Brisbane who failed to gain a foothold in Astoria). Eventually garrisons of men would be stationed in each state, country, and major village to ‘encourage the peace’ and ‘uphold justice’ and ‘to assist the local authorities.’
They hoped to gradually increase the local number of troops under their control to such a point that the leader in question was forced to acknowledge their superiority and relinquish all law enforcement and military efforts to the Order, if not bowing completely to the will of the Order in all matters of state. First would come intimidation; once the weaker principalities were under Order control they could then move forward with military conquest if necessary. Of course, this plan would take decades to come to fruition, but it was well thought out and might work if the Order could only raise the necessary army. After the closing remarks, the servants ushered Tristan’s unit out of the dining hall, as they were not allowed to mingle with the more important guests. Tristan’s men were escorted back to their quarters to prepare for their departure to their new posts on the morrow. Tristan was taken to Captain Karly for a briefing on his next assignment. The servant escorted him to the door and bowed himself out.
“Yes, Tristan come in,” said the Captain. “It seems I have the great honor of briefing you on your next assignment,” he said sarcastically. He continued more genially, “I have been reviewing your logbook and performance records. Fascinating reading actually. Your men seem to have done remarkably well, even if your tactics were not exactly uh…traditional.”
“Thank you sir, I think,” said Tristan.
The Captain smiled at him a bit ironically, “yes, I think that counts as a compliment. Because of your success in the field and your particular background we have decided your next position will be as an Advisor to a rather peculiar leader.” Tristan started to say he had never done anything like that before, but the Captain continued, “I know you do not have any sort of
experience as an ambassador or royal advisor, but we will pair you up with an active Advisor for a few months before shipping you off to your assigned post. What really interests us is your interactions with one of these troublesome Brethren. You seem to have handled him rather nicely and seem to know more about the Brethren than most. We tried to get Brisbane to be the acting Advisor to this Lady of theirs some months ago, but that failed horribly. We have an Advisor in almost every major town, city-state, and country save Astoria. You seem a bright young man and are quick on your feet and a bit more, how should I say, charming, than Brisbane. Perhaps you will succeed where he failed, if only by being more polite around this Lady of theirs. You also grew up in the vicinity and perhaps you have even traveled there a time or two?”
He looked expectantly at Tristan who said, “yes, I have had the opportunity to pass through that strange city on several occasions. Are you sure this is something you think I can handle?”
“We will know that in a couple of months, but right now you are the best we have,” said Karly, “now go back to your room and get some sleep; you will be leaving early to join Captain Lyre in Vespera. He is advisor to Queen Britna in the capital city of Lorna. Go say farewell to your men and rest well. We are asking much of you and failure cannot be an option.” Tristan bowed formally and left the Captain’s chambers where a servant met him and took him back to his quarters.
They spent much time that night in farewells, but obeying the Captain’s order, Tristan went to bed as soon as he felt he could. Bristol was to go on the next recruitment drive and take a group of new recruits on their initiating tour of the borderlands. Two of the others were assigned to the Citadel for a couple of months as guards. Two others were taking posts in various militia units the Order had scattered about the world, and the final man was to act as secretary to one of the Generals making a tour of the Southern Kingdoms. They would be scattered throughout the known world. Tristan hoped he had made a positive impact in their lives, and that they would eventually find their way to knowing the Master. He wished them all the best and retired to his chambers.
The next morning he was wakened early by a servant and given a quick breakfast and a copy of his orders. He dressed and met one of the stable boys in the courtyard. Apparently, the mare would not let anyone saddle her. Tristan rolled his eyes and went to prepare his recalcitrant mount for their journey. Within an hour, they were again on their way into the great unknown. It was a journey of several days to Lorna in Vespera; the journey was by far too short. Nothing of note happened along the road save that the mare thoroughly enjoyed being out of her musty stall, and was far too frisky by Tristan’s standards. She had been stalled between a flatulent gelding and a lovelorn stallion. The stallion was only encouraged by her signs of irritation rather than dismayed. Overall, she had had a miserable time. But it was part of her service to Tristan and the Brethren. She tried to bear it as patiently as she could; though at times she was not very patient at all.
The Sampler Platter: A Little Bit of Everything Page 7