The Knight of Honor (The Arising Evil, Book 1)

by Ulysses Troy

  “It’s not a surprise where he’s concerned. Did he stay here for the night?”

  “No, I finally said if he wanted a red piss, he could find it at the Crimson Donkey.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “Nothing. I think he just went for it, since I didn’t see him afterward.”

  So, Gavise was spending the precious tourins that they had earned through countless dangerous encounters and adventures on wine. While Conrad, who did all the work, was not even able to afford a decent bed. It must be Gavise. That’s definitely something he would do.

  “Did he mention anything else?” Conrad prepared to leave the table, to search for his friend at the Crimson Horse.

  “No, but . . . screw it.” Unwin raised both of his arms, expressing his discontent. “I am bored with that mystery shit. Yes, he probably went to the Crimson Goat, but you don’t have to search for him there. I don’t want to lose another customer to that damned place. Yesterday, just after the morning Church, I saw him riding alongside the Baron into the wilderness.”

  That should not be good. “With chains?”

  “No. Your friend seemed to be doing pretty well with the Baron as he let him ride alongside himself. Nobles don’t do that favor to the smallfolk often.”

  “Baron?” Even though Gavise would claim the opposite, he had always been better at making enemies than making friends, especially in nobility. “Do you know what his business with him was?”

  “For God’s sake, how can I know that? All I know is, the Baron was heading to LaPellás for a contest.”

  “A contest? Are you serious?” I wonder what kind of trouble it will lead me to this time.

  “Yes. And if you want to catch up to them, better hurry.”

  Chapter Two

  The Road to LaPellás

  The road to the plains of LaPellás stretched between two thick woods, and only the Holy One knew what was hiding behind them. The weather was cool, even though there was still time for the night’s arrival, and it was not even winter. Conrad remembered a popular idiom about that: the further north one goes, the more his arse will freeze.

  He was bored with riding and riding, but he had to be fast if he wanted to catch up with the Baron along the way. Yet even though Conrad was not a self-indulgent man, he was dreaming of a comfortable bed made of feathers and sheep’s wool after spending weeks under the bright moon and not a roof, with the unpleasant sounds of owls and wolves.

  Normally, he would prefer to go after paths hidden by the large and green leaves of the woods, which would hide him from any possible danger except for wild animals. But his horse had already had enough trouble with rough nature, and he did not want to ride a horse with one or two broken legs. So, for this time, he was taking the main road on his journey. That decision of his made the way much easier for his horse, but it also forced him to watch every stranger he came across carefully and open his ears to hear any potentially threatening sound. He had to be careful, as only a fool would travel in these lands alone carelessly, and Conrad wanted to be sure he was not one.

  He continued riding for a while, but as he rode on, his hopes of catching up to the Baron decreased. The Baron of Gannadár was not there, but the road was not completely deserted, either. He came across two wandering merchants, a half-naked pilgrim traveling to the Temple of Giressán and a Vanheimian messenger heading for the capital. But none of them knew about the Baron or had ever seen someone like him on the road.

  As more time passed, Conrad’s horse neighed, expressing his tiredness to his owner. Conrad halted him for a moment and let him eat some green grass growing beside the road. While his horse was eating his fill, he examined the environment that surrounded him. The lands of LaPellás were known for large, green oaks and beautiful flowers, and Conrad could easily see why. I wonder if some of its famous roses grow around here.

  There was nothing extraordinary nearby, except for a lone horse that had escaped his sight before. It could not be wild as it had a saddle, yet there was not a single clue about its owner.

  Conrad dismounted his horse, tied him to a tree, and warily approached the lone horse. He could be defined as someone who had at least some proper experience with horses, so he did not have a hard time grabbing the horse’s bridles without getting him scared. As he came nearer the horse, a detail on its saddle took his attention. The heraldry of Gannát was imprinted on it. Could it be the Baron’s horse? Yet, the saddle was far too common to belong to the Baron himself. It would make sense for it to belong to one of the Baron’s men, but the innkeeper had said the Baron was traveling with only the bard from the capital, meaning Gavise.

  He decided to find the owner of the horse and searched the trees nearby with his eyes but was unable to catch a thing. I can call out. But the horse’s owner could be in danger from outlaws or something else right now, and if that was the case, it would be suicide to draw them onto himself with a shout while unprepared for an attack.

  But he had to make a choice. The owner of the horse could also be injured and lying nearby, and this could be his last chance to save him, and he had to save this man or woman no matter what, as he or she was his only clue to the Baron. Conrad considered his options for a few seconds, and then chose the risky one as usual.

  “Can anyone hear me!” He called towards the woods. His voice echoed through the trees, but no one responded, except for some birds. “Is there anyone out there?”

  Conrad called out a few more times, but no one came. He stopped and just started to wait, to see if anyone would answer. For a few seconds, it was all quiet, and no one seemed to have heard his voice. But the silence did not last long. In a wink, a short, fat man with a bald head and a long mustache emerged from a thick group of trees nearby. He was out of breath and every single part of his body was heavily sweating. This man was not made for a run.

  “I . . . I am here,” he said, wiping the sweat on his forehead with his hands.

  Conrad walked towards the man hauling the horse after himself, pulling its bridle. Then, he waited for the man to recover. It took a while for him to regain his breath. “Is this horse yours?” Conrad asked.

  “Ah . . . yes!” The fat man answered. “That fucking horse threw me off his top after seeing a little snake on the road and ran towards the woods! I have been searching the damn mare for hours!”

  “You have finally found it, then.” Conrad gave the bridles to the man without hesitation. He was always good at reading people, and this whole thing was far too pathetic to be part of a trick.

  “Thank you!” The man said with joy. “After those two merchant assholes, that crazy holy lunatic and the Vanheimian minion, finally, I have encountered someone sane on this goddamned road!”

  “I saw Gannát heraldry on the horse’s saddle,” Conrad quickly got to the point. “Do you serve for Baron de Gannát?”

  “Yes, unfortunately.” Suddenly, the man’s face displayed a much more serious expression. A sad one. “My name is Merlon. I have been under the service of house Gannát for so many years that I don’t even want to remember.”

  “Your Baron . . . I need to find him.”

  “You know what, me too!” The man burst into laughter but suddenly stopped when he saw Conrad was not about to join him.

  “What do you mean?” Conrad asked, knitting his eyebrows.

  “I will tell you about everything but first,” Merlon rubbed his large belly, “I need to eat.”

  ***

  The inn was much more peaceful compared to the Wedding Wench, and its general ambiance was much better, as there were no drunkards nor cheating gamblers around here, only honest folk. Conrad took a look around and realized that only four people were sitting in the inn, and they all seemed decent enough. Merlon and he were lucky to find such an inn on the road, as the inns that stood on roads were of rather poor quality. It was a little pricey, though.

  Conrad was drinking water as he wanted to be in his mind on the road, and also did not want to give a mug
of ale eight tourins. He watched the Baron’s servant, who was sitting in front of him eating, surprised by his appetite. A freshly made stew, two newly plucked carrots, a good quality ale from Merrigón, and three well-cooked chicken drumsticks. And yet, the servant was still mumbling about not being able to eat eggs.

  “I won’t pay for any of that.” Conrad pointed out the food on the table while raising his mug of water. “Only mine.”

  “Of course. “Merlon smiled. “Ah, I just want to be as full as a tick until returning to eat Marie’s famous olla for the rest of my life.”

  “Marie?” Being curious, Conrad asked.

  “The cook’s assistant in the Baron’s castle. She cooks the meal for the household’s servants as she has been only cooking for two months.”

  “Why complain? You appears to be pretty rich for a servant,” Conrad said while pointing to the man’s food with his hand.

  Merlon laughed as he cleaned an oil stain from his cheek. “Ah, do you really think if I had enough riches, I would continue to serve this fucking House? And take a dangerous road of days after some idiot, just because his ass is a noble one?”

  Conrad was surprised to see a servant talking about his lord like that. Most men were not that brave, or perhaps stupid, as it could cost them their lives. “You said you would tell me about that journey of yours.”

  “I think it is obvious. I am going after Edmond de Gannát, legitimate Baron of the Gannadár.” Merlon spoke after taking a sip from his Merrigónese ale.

  “Tell me the details, will you?”

  “I can try.” The fat servant paused for a moment, then continued to talk again. “I am going after Baron Edmond to make sure he will keep his head on his shoulders.”

  “It looks as if you did not volunteer for that noble mission,” Conrad said ironically.

  “What kind of dumbo would want to jump his ass into something like that?” Merlon’s voice sounded desperate, and angry, too. “Lady de Gannát tailed me after this young fool.” He belched, having drunk a considerable amount of beer. “Damn him and his noble house! I have almost gotten robbed three times and gotten killed once while going after that absent-minded fool! My father always said that even living on the grass and eating your shit for breakfast is more honorable than serving an arrogant noble. Shit to my head that did not listen to that cheating gambler’s words. The old fella spoke the truth once or twice.”

  “Tell me about this contest,” Conrad said after finishing his water. He had no way of learning more about the contest from Unwin back at Gannadár.

  “Of course,” Merlon said before biting a chicken leg. “Lady LaPellás, the regent to her young niece Baron de LaPellás, is organizing a contest,” he continued eating the chicken and only spoke again after finishing it, “to resolve the famous feud.”

  “Feud?” Conrad asked, curious. He had not heard about this before. Maybe because I did not use to be in the North.

  “There is a feud between the noble houses of Gannát and Wellon,” Merlon said.

  “Wellon? Aren’t their lands a little far from here?” The House of Wellon was a powerful house that ruled a Barony with the same name. However, their lands were in the other part of the County.

  “Not that far if you have a well-breed stallion, apparently,” Merlon said. “As for the contest, each house had to choose a champion to participate in a duel of honor, to resolve the feud peacefully. I do not know whom Wellons chose, but our idiot Baron was very eager to face their champion on his own.”

  Conrad was finally beginning to understand what was going on. “So, you say Lady de Gannát was concerned about his son’s safety and sent you after him to watch over him?”

  Merlon nodded to him while drinking ale from a large wooden mug. “She did not want her son to participate in the contest, naturally. But of course, the fucker did not listen as usual.”

  “But why did the lady send you instead of a group of well-armed and trained knights? Or at least some men-at-arms. That would definitely be better than sending a servant to roads swarming with outlaws.”

  “Because Edmond clearly ordered all his men to stay inside the Gannadár!” Merlon said angrily. “Half of the men are guarding the villages against a potential return of Jameidans, anyway. The fucker still thinks Jamedians will want to have their revenge on him and his subjects because he thinks he has humiliated them with his heroic deeds back at their small fight. But you know what? My ass! He would be a prisoner to ransom for Jamedians if Count Martell’s men had not come at the right time to save him.”

  “You shouldn’t be that far behind him,” Conrad said, trying to focus on the point. “Why did you not catch up with him on the road?”

  “Oh, I did!” Merlon stopped eating for a moment and raised his dirty hands to the air in anger. “Do you know what happened afterward? This arrogant jackass said that ‘he had no need for me to perform my services and would like to continue his heroic journey alone’, just like some bloody knight from a bloody tale. He ordered me to return to the Gannadár immediately, but my Lady knew he would do this, so she wanted me to chase him no matter what order he gave.”

  “So, you are not obeying your legitimate lord’s orders,” Conrad spoke with an ironic tone again. He was smiling.

  “If I do not obey Edmond, all I can get as a penalty is some fancy speech about the worth of serving your master, honor, and how I am about to stain these sacred virtues. But if I fail to obey the lady’s orders, I can lose my bloody head! Lady Jennefer is the only one with a functional brain in that family. And she is far fiercer where her fucking son’s bloody life is concerned!”

  “The feud, what is that all about?” Conrad asked while Merlon sliced a carrot into four parts with a knife, offering one to him and desisting when Conrad refused.

  “You would not want to know it; it would make you either fly off in rage or laugh, as it is quite a bad joke.” Merlon licked the remaining spice on his fingers after putting the carrot on the table. “Many fucking long years ago, there was a bloody fucker that lived, named Geoffrey de Gannát, the grandfather of the current Baron Edmond. He loved the old Baron de LaPellás’ beautiful daughter and wanted to marry her, but apparently, he had a rival: The lady had another suitor, Jacquard de Wellon, uncle of the current Baron Antonin de Wellon. The two engaged in a fight for their common love to the young lady LaPellás and broke the rules of chivalry. Both claimed to have the lady’s love. Blaming her daughter for that disgrace, Baron de LaPellás locked her up in a keep and forced her to take a vow of chastity.”

  “This seems to be a tale to tell the kids rather than an actual event.”

  “When it comes to these noble fools, this is nowhere surprising.” Merlon continued to tell the story behind the two houses’ rivalry.

  “The two knights pledged to participate in a duel of honor to solve the problem, as both of them blamed the other for causing the lady’s imprisonment by her father. But they were never able to face each other, as Jacquard de Wellon vanished without a trace just a week after the incident. The Wellons said he was unjustly killed by Geoffrey as he was much better of a swordsman than his opponent, and Geoffrey did not want to take the risk of being defeated by his rival’s hands. But of course, Gannát denied the accusations and cursed Wellons for staining his honor. He swore to face a chosen Wellon champion with steel in a duel of death to refute the rumors about his cowardice, but Baron de Wellon said their blood was far too noble to duel with a dishonored snake like him.”

  “But what is all about Edmond and that contest?”

  “In his dying bed, Geoffrey de Gannát made his grandson and the heir Edmond swear to protect the honor of their house’s name by completing the duel he could not fight during his life. Instead of burying the Baron’s wrinkled body and forgetting about all this crap, Edmond challenged Baron Antonin de Wellon to a duel of honor to solve their old feud properly.”

  “So, the Baron accepted his challenge.”

  “Yes. It was decided that the contes
t would take place in the plains and be organized by the House of LaPellás, in order to honor the dead lady.”

  “Wait!” Conrad looked down for a moment. “What happened to the lady de LaPellás?”

  Suddenly, the servant’s face soured. “They say she waited for her true love’s return. They say she kept singing a song about him rescuing her from the captivity and loneliness of that dark castle his father had locked her up in.”

  Conrad raised his eyes and looked at the man.

  “But no one came.”

  “The Count didn’t want a small war between his subjects, so he gave an ultimatum to the heads of both houses and ordered them to respect the Baron LaPellás’ decisions. The castle and daughter were his, so striking it in order to rescue her would unleash the Count’s anger on them, and neither the Baron could afford to risk the safety of their houses.” Merlon stopped to drink more ale. “As Jacquard was already dead, why would Wellons still want to save her? And take the risk of war? They may be too wealthy and powerful for an ordinary Barony house, but even they are not a match for a whole county’s strength. And the King would never allow that kind of conflict.”

  “You are very good with politics for a servant.” Conrad was really surprised by Merlon’s competence.

  Merlon smiled mischievously. “You cannot possibly imagine how many times that old Geoffrey discussed these with his kin. A servant can also listen, especially from behind a door.”

  “And Geoffrey, did he never thought about rescuing the lady?”

  “Actually, he did,” Merlon explained. “Geoffrey was overwhelmed by his family, as they wanted to be sure he would not do something stupid. They instantly found him a suitable wife and tried to make him forget the Lady LaPellás.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No. Some say he attempted to go to the castle alone and save her many times, but always returned without completing his journey. Even I myself saw him one day trying to sneak towards the stables to get his horse at night. He noticed me but did not care too much about it, as I was only a child back then.”