“I’ll get plenty of opportunity to wear it, and I don’t see that there’s much more we could do. The individual pieces fit fine.” Angst walked around the room, shook hands with each of them, and gave Raena a hug. “Thank you all so very much. I don’t think I could ever repay you for this kindness.”
They all nodded and thanked one another, and then everyone wandered off to get a short rest before the day’s activities. Teedle was staring at the armor and shaking his head incredulously, though smiling a little. “We really did it. That young Shint, well, he did just fine by me. I’ll have to work with him a bit more, but I’m going to request that he be reassigned as my apprentice. He has potential.”
“Thank you, Teedle, for that too.” Angst smiled, and felt almost giddy. It was one of the few times he could remember everything coming together, just right.
“You know, Angst, they’re going to hate you for wearing that.”
“I know,” Angst replied with his trademark ear-to-ear grin. “But it was the queen’s idea. She did say ‘traditional.’”
Teedle winced as he helped Angst pack up the armor.
13
There were two types of knight in the Kingdom of Unsel. The queen knighted some who found her favor for tasks performed in service to the kingdom. This act conferred the title of ‘Sir.’ It was a title only, no lands or gold or staff were awarded, but significant in terms of public respect and prestige, and the title was forever.
The traditional knight, the man who strode around in shiny plate armor righting wrongs and saving fair maidens, was something altogether different. These were the heroes, the elite, and they included an exceptional few. Those chosen to be knights were typically the best soldiers, those individuals who would sacrifice anything for Unsel and often did. They were supposed to be heroes who lived by an unwritten code of honor. This sort of knighting represented an exceptional achievement for most, and an unprecedented feat for someone like Angst.
A person who could perform magic hadn’t received a title, any title, in all the eight kingdoms for over a thousand years. Rumor had spread quickly that Angst could possibly be the first magic-wielding knight, and people wanted to be a part of it. The castle was packed with every duke and dignitary who could get there within three days, including the king from neighboring Melkier. Outside, there was a growing crowd of people and turmoil. Some were upset and showed their bigotry and hate openly. Others were enthusiastic and proud of this change in direction.
The considerably larger mass of protesters stomped around the city yelling catchy phrases like, “No More Magic” or “Keep Knights Human.” At times, the magic protestors carried signs, or human-shaped dolls attached to poles. These would often spontaneously combust, turn into wild animals, or disappear. A much smaller group, comprised of those who could wield magic and a few of their supporters, would laugh at this but stayed near the guards for safety. The guards were exhausted.
The ‘small party’ Princess Victoria had thrown together to recognize Angst and his friends had commandeered the castle’s largest dining hall for two hours. Hector, Dallow, Tarness, and Heather waited with Angst in an antechamber hidden near the dining hall entrance. His friends took turns making sour faces at him while they watched attendees arrive. Their room was large enough for ten people to sit next to each other uncomfortably, and small enough to give Angst claustrophobia.
His armor had fit, perfectly. The entire suit was a dusky black rather than a polished shine, as though left unfinished. His tiberius helm had a rounded top that covered everything from the back of his neck to his forehead. His face was left unprotected, save for a steel noseguard. The chest piece was a half cuirass that fit like a sleeveless shirt cut off below his pectoral muscles. Chain mail hung around his midriff like a curtain. The front of Angst’s arms and legs were guarded by the dark plate, but an inch-wide strip was left exposed in the back of his legs and inside of his arms to keep the armor light. The inside of his elbows and back of his knees were also missing steel for the sake of mobility, covered only by dark leather padding. On close inspection, it appeared a lot of Angst was exposed.
After seeing how dark the armor was, the princess had Raena make a red cape “for formal occasions” that attached to both shoulders and his left wrist. He felt it was ostentatious, but wasn’t going to argue, as he knew he had no taste.
Angst stood in the center of the antechamber, almost afraid to move. The armor was as comfortable as armor could be. It was made for mobility, he could bend his joints freely, and it actually fit. The room, however, was stuffy, and he was nervous, and he was afraid moving might take off someone’s ankle with the tip of his sword. The only thing he could do was sweat and sigh.
Anxiety pervaded the room. Heather didn’t want any of this, and her eyes were red and blotchy from crying. Hector, Dallow, and Tarness didn’t want to be there and barely spoke a word to Angst.
The door opened, and a young man’s head peered into the room. “We will begin in five minutes. Please take your seat.”
Heather looked at Angst with sad eyes, squeezed his hand, and then slipped out the door.
Dallow, Tarness, and Hector stood before him and eyed the armor.
“It turned out all right,” Dallow approved stiffly.
“I wouldn’t want to meet up with you in a dark alley,” stated Tarness with an admiring grin.
“I don’t think you’d see him,” Hector took a stab at teasing. “Try not to make the rest of us look bad by throwing up.”
That didn’t help, and it was the end of the conversation. Angst spent the remaining eternity of the next four minutes alone in thought. He took the sword in hand and held it aloft. It felt comfortable, it felt right. It was the worst time to be questioning himself, yet he couldn’t help but wonder. This was what he wanted, right? With this sword, this armor, there was still time even at his age to do some good, wasn’t there? It had all happened so fast. Angst had spent his life wanting to become a knight, and now he had the opportunity, but opportunity always came at a cost. Heather and his friends were already upset. What else would he have to sacrifice?
The usher returned, and yelped a bit at the sword being out. Angst hastily returned it to his back. “Uh, sorry about that.”
The usher shuddered. “This way, everyone.”
The group followed him into the hall.
Rows of tables outlined the enormous room in a ‘U’ shape, providing space in the middle for Angst and his friends to stand on display. Hundreds of attendees sat at the tables, lost in a low buzz of conversation until the four of them approached. At the sight of Angst, his sword, and his new armor, the crowd’s murmur immediately became louder. Several at the front tables looked visibly offended, and a few in the back stood to point. The queen reached up to her temple with a finger and pressed hard as if to quell a sudden headache, squinting with pain.
Queen Isabelle stood and stared for a moment at his Zyn’ight armor. It was obviously making more of a statement than he had intended, and Angst felt the urge to run, or maybe tell a joke that would relieve the palpable tension in the room. He pulled the sword from his back, which was met by a gasp from the crowd. He rested it on its tip, and knelt. Dallow, Tarness and Hector looked at each other then decided to follow Angst’s lead.
This seemed to work for the queen, and she spoke. Isabelle’s tone was formal enough to roll all of her Rs, yet tense enough to squawk a bit higher than usual. Whether it was due to the echo of her voice in the hall or the mood of her subjects, she paused between each sentence as though choosing her words carefully.
“We live in a time of change and challenge. The great sword Chryslaenor has been wielded for the first time in recorded history, and will be championed on behalf of Unsel by these four men. While there is no tradition on which we can rely to acknowledge the sword or its bearer, the crown does recognize Angst, Tarness, Hector, and Dallow. We are grateful for your willingness to meet the challenge we have set before you.”
The qu
een raised a glass silently, as did the attendees, though several seemed reluctant to do so. A few tables in the back hosted members of the community who could wield magic, and they began to clap. Others in the crowd felt obliged to join in. When the princess started clapping enthusiastically, all the attendees followed suit, yet many still looked upset. Angst couldn’t help but flash his friends a satisfied grin.
Soon the applause died away, and they were ushered to a table near the front. It took only seconds for Tori to pull Angst from his chair. The princess and Tyrell spent the rest of the evening taking turns dragging Angst across the room for another introduction to an unknown leader of some province or dukedom he’d never heard of. Every chance Angst thought he might get to hide amongst his friends, or snack on the attractive meal, was smoothly thwarted.
King Gaarder of Melkier was gracious to a fault before diving into questions about Angst, the sword, his armor, and how all things magical were handled in Unsel. He was a curious old man, with long white hair and longer moustache. His robes were a rich crimson, and his friendly smile reached his eyes with a twinkle.
“I suppose it would be too forward, Mr. Angst, if I asked to hold it?” The king held out his hand.
“Your Majesty, I would be honored, but I’ve found out recently that I’m the only one able to lift it. Anyone else who attempts it suffers injury.” Angst tried to be good-natured about saying no, and to his surprise, Gaarder understood.
“It only makes sense, or others would’ve picked it up before you. It’s obviously your destiny. But too bad you didn’t have the opportunity to wield it when you were a bit, um, younger.”
“Yes.” Angst tried to keep his wince internal. “I guess it just wasn't the right time for me.”
“I understand you took out a full garrison that night. Very impressive,” the king joked and winked. “Don’t you just love tall tales? I’ve found a ‘full garrison’ tends to be one frightened man pissing himself.”
Angst laughed out some tension, grateful for the king’s charming nature.
“Are there many swords like that one?” he asked.
“To my knowledge, Chryslaenor is unique,” Angst said, tilting his head in curiosity.
“Hmm,” Gaarder thought aloud while tugging at his long beard. “I’m not so sure, it looks—.”
Just as the conversation had become interesting, Princess Victoria interrupted. “Your Majesty.” The princess curtsied and held out her hand.
After bowing, Gaarder kissed her hand gently. “How you’ve grown, my dear. I can only imagine that your poor mother has to fight off the line of suitors.”
Victoria blushed prettily. “You are too kind, Your Majesty. If I may,” she said, as she took Angst’s hand. “My mother has requested Angst’s presence.”
“Of course. Angst, it was a pleasure to meet you.” As the two men shook hands, the king held on for a bit. “You should come and visit some time. I believe we have much to discuss about swords and things.”
“I would like that, Your Majesty.” Angst bowed before hurrying to keep up with the princess.
Victoria led Angst through the crowd, still holding onto his hand. “Your hand is sweaty. You need to relax.”
“Right, I’ll do that now,” he replied. She giggled. “So, why does the queen want to see me? She loves the armor, right? I knew she would.”
“She doesn’t love the armor, nor does she want to see you. I thought I’d save you from politics you weren’t familiar with, and I figured you’d enjoy my company much more than King Gaarder’s.”
Angst smiled gratefully. “You aren’t going to make me dance, are you, Your Majesty?”
“I’m not that mean,” she replied. “According to Rose, you dance like a hobbled elephant.”
He blushed. “She said that, did she?”
“That and some other things, but she told me to save those. Though I can’t imagine what for.”
Angst rolled his eyes and made a mental note to return the favor. They’d arrived in a corner, almost separated from the masses. Fortunately, her being the princess kept most visitors at bay.
She looked at Angst with concern. “I won’t be there tomorrow to see you off. Please be careful.”
“Because my mother is sending you off to die,” Angst said mockingly as he finished her sentence.
“Don’t say that! And don’t put words in my mouth!” She looked at someone nearby and smiled graciously, nodding in a royal manner. “You don’t know everything that’s been set into motion. You’re going to be in great danger, and I—”
“Have some faith in me. Everything happens for a reason, including this.” Angst reached up to rap on the hilt of Chryslaenor with his knuckle. “It’s not like all of Ehrde is going to war.”
Tori looked like he’d slapped her. Apparently she didn’t find the comment as funny as he had intended.
“Or, maybe I’ve been given the sword for a reason. Maybe, it’s possible that I have a chance to do something good.”
“You were doing good, Angst. You’ve never given yourself credit, but just being who you are helps people. You’ve certainly helped me. It’s in your nature to do good.”
“Thank you. Know that you’ve also done worlds of good for me. Your friendship has really filled a hole in my life, Tori. Please don’t ever forget that.” He smiled at her. “But the king is right. You, young lady, will soon find yourself surrounded by suitors wooing you and vying for your attentions. You may not believe me, but you’re going to move on to better things, and your need for time with an old man will dwindle. I will probably have to team up with the queen to keep them at bay. Imagine your mother and I banding together.” Angst made a comical, cringing expression.
She laughed. “You won’t get rid of me so easily, ‘old man,’ nor will I let you get old so quickly.” She’d begun sounding queen-like. “This trip is far more dangerous than it sounds. I have faith in you, Angst, but please remember to have faith in yourself. You will need it.”
14
The morning they were set to depart, the air held a touch of fall. A wet bitterness that worked its way through pores, sank into the muscles and settled into the bones, leaving you with a creak that was more annoying than painful. In his youth, Angst had loved these days. It was the early freeze that killed the pollen and cleaned the air. To the chagrin of people in their forties, he would remove his shirt on these cool mornings just to revel in the steam rising from his strong muscles, laughing at those older than him, bundling themselves in cumbersome traveling cloaks and extra sweaters.
Angst wasn’t laughing now. Now, he shivered, in part from that very cold—yet another sign of age—but also in anticipation. He had asked and finally demanded that his nearest and dearest join him for a grand adventure. Angst had justified to himself that they would wrong some rights, solve some puzzles, kill a few monsters, and return as heroes. His justifications were so strong and so rehearsed that he’d almost completely muffled the voice screaming from deep inside that this was all one big ego trip. This quest was the desire of an aging man trying to feel like a young man, no matter that the cost could be the lives of his friends. Since being ‘assigned’ this mission, he’d successfully ignored that voice, set it aside, busying himself to the point that he almost couldn’t hear it at all. Almost. Today, though, he shivered, and the voice rang in his head like a crystal bell.
Heather squeezed his hand tight, her face more worried and upset than he’d ever seen it. She faked a smile every time she caught him looking, but he knew her heart wasn’t in it. The smile on her lips wasn’t in her eyes, and he felt bad that she would be alone for so long.
“I’m sorry, Angst, for arguing last night,” she said quietly, her voice scratchy from crying. “You didn’t deserve that the night before your big trip.”
If an argument was a gentle spring rain, last night was a hurricane. Armageddon had swept through their kitchen. He’d gotten lost in that storm, somewhere between her screaming and her crying. His hope fo
r a bit of lovemaking and an early night was replaced with stress, three hours of sleep, and a belly full of stomach pains.
He shook his head and touched her face. “You are the love of my life, and we’ve never been apart for more than a few days. I’m sorry to have upset you. I’ll do everything I can to come back quickly, and to be safe. I promise.”
Heather nodded, and attempted to smile again. She was being so very brave, and it broke his heart. She looked over his shoulder, to the throng of people behind him. “Well, Angst, this is what you wanted. They’re waiting for you.”
“But...” Angst hesitated. Maybe there was something more he should do or say.
“Go. The sooner you leave, the sooner you return.” She kissed him on his cheek. “I love you. Now go be a hero so you can hurry home to me.”
That made him smirk, and she flashed him one genuine smile, eyes and all. He nodded, said, “I love you too,” and turned to face everyone.
What had begun as a quiet departure with friends and family had expanded to a hundred curious, unwanted well-wishers who had no business being there. Nor did they all wish him well. He didn’t want them there, hadn’t invited any of them, yet couldn’t help but smile. Angst and Heather stepped forward, holding hands. Angst wore his dark armor, the huge sword hovering against his back like a large metal tree trunk. Chryslaenor impressed and intimidated the crowd enough that many stepped back when he came toward them.
“Hector, everyone’s here. Can we go?” Angst asked his friend, who seemed to be in a rather surly mood.
“No, we’re waiting for Captain Guard Tyrell,” Hector snapped. He tugged down on his sleeveless leather chest piece, his hairy arms flexing impressively. Having spent his entire life in the military, Hector didn’t do late, and he was almost as anxious as Angst.
“Pfft, this is crap,” said Angst. “What about supplies? Do we have everything we need?”
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