by N. C. Reed
“I am sorry, Karls,” he spoke where only Willard could hear. “I will withdraw, and offer the apology. You may leave my service, if you wish, with honor.”
Willard’s face was a conflicting swirl of emotions. He steeled himself and stood straighter.
“No, Milord,” he said finally, his voice calm. “Enri is a big boy. He can look after himself. He has not yet accepted the challenge and perhaps he will not, but either way I serve you. I ask only, Milord, that if you can avoid killing him without endangering yourself that you allow him to live. If you cannot, I will understand.”
“You assume that I will even win, Karls,” Parno chuckled quietly. “Your brother is the holder of the King’s Sword, after all.”
“I have seen him fight, Milord,” Karls shrugged. “I have also seen you fight. There is no doubt in my mind that you will succeed.”
“Karls, I cannot face the brother of one of my most trusted retainers,” Parno objected, placing his hand upon Karl’s shoulder. “I cannot. Will not.”
“Milord, if you withdraw now it will look like cowardice,” Willard pointed out. “It will destroy your claim of innocence and leave you and the Lady forever stained by the charges of this coward. You have no choice but to accept and I will not leave your side.”
Parno looked long and hard into Karls Willard’s eyes. The young man was strong, with a spine of steel and the heart of a lion. Parno wondered what he had done to deserve the loyalty of such a man.
At the same time it crossed his mind that once again his actions had placed someone close to him in the line of fire, even if indirectly. He had never imagined this. If his thrice damned brother had not interfered, the matter would likely have been settled quickly. Once again his recklessness had allowed someone to mousetrap him into hurting a friend. He looked at Feng, who had been silent up to now, his look one of desperation mingled with regret and self-loathing.
“You are not at fault, here, Prince,” Feng replied quietly. “There is no blame upon your honor. You must do what is right.”
Parno sighed, his head dropping for a minute. Suddenly he reached out with both hands and gripped Karls tightly by the shoulder. He embraced the younger Willard, who returned it with equal fierceness. He released the hold and turned to face Therron.
“I accept.”
The chamber erupted in noise as Parno whirled and departed, followed by his retainers.
*****
One hour later, Enri Willard and Parno McLeod met upon the parade ground of the palace. The elder Willard was backed by Therron McLeod and Edward Willows. Parno was seconded by Cho Feng and Karls Willard.
“Milord,” Enri smiled mockingly, with a bow just deep enough not to be insulting. “I am at your service.”
“Time,” Karls stated, his face showing none of the emotions swirling inside.
“Sunrise, tomorrow,” Therron answered promptly. “Weapons?”
“Swords,” Karls’ answer was equally prompt, to the surprise of both Therron McLeod and Enri Willard. “Terms? Prince Parno is satisfied with first blood.”
“Terms are mortal combat,” Therron sneered. “Nothing less.”
“At sunrise, then,” Karls nodded. As the parties turned, the younger Willard stepped forward.
“I would have a word with my brother,” he stated. Enri nodded. The other four participants of the formality withdrew, leaving the two brothers facing one another.
Enri Willard was tall, taller than Karls, and heavier. A long scar was faintly visible down the left side of his face, placed there long ago in a similar event. He smiled faintly at his younger brother.
“Appealing for mercy already, brother?” he asked lightly.
“My principal has no need of mercy, Enri,” Karls replied calmly, refusing to rise to the bait.
“We shall see come sunrise, I suppose.”
“You should withdraw,” Karls said, his tone less formal now and showing concern.
“Withdraw?” Enri’s voice showed his surprise. “Why would I do that?”
“Because he will defeat you, Enri,” Karls told his brother. “You are no match for him.”
“Did he ask you to appeal to me, brother?” Enri asked with a smile. “It is well known within the palace guard that Parno usually does his own fighting.”
“He did not,” Karls didn’t quite snarl. “He offered to withdraw his challenge, offered it to me, not your benefactor. Not from fear, but for my sake. I told him he could not. That his honor demanded he continue.”
“Offered to you?” Enri snorted. “Why?”
“Because I am his retainer and he is loyal to those loyal to him,” Karls answered calmly. “He knew that his brother offered your services because of me. Among other reasons, I’m sure, but I was one of them. He was willing to forgo his honor and accept blame for wrongdoing that he is innocent of to spare me the conflict. I was also offered the opportunity to leave his service, my honor intact, if I felt the need.”
“He is an honorable man, Enri,” Karls continued. “One worthy of respect.”
“Respect!” Enri Willard almost spat the word. “That witless fancy knows nothing of honor, nor respect. You dishonor our name by serving him and now you face your own brother at his side!”
“And you serve his, against him,” Karls countered. “It seems we are both following the same pattern.”
“After tomorrow, you will have no one to serve,” Enri assured him smugly. “Perhaps I will offer a good word for you to Prince Therron. I’m sure you could manage a royal stable, somewhere. If the horses aren’t too good, of course.”
Karls sighed, wearily. He had hoped that his brother would listen.
“Your insults to me are meaningless, Enri,” Karls assured his brother quietly. “We are finished here, it seems. I have asked the Prince, as a favor to me, to spare your life if at all possible. It is the best I can do.”
“Spare me?” Enri’s voice raised at that and several heads turned his way. “Why you insolent, ungrateful whelp! When have I ever needed mercy from an opponent?”
“You have never faced an opponent like him,” Karls said sadly. “He will defeat you, Enri. You have no chance at victory, and little at survival.” He turned to go.
“We’ll see about that at sunrise!” his brother’s voice followed him.
“I know,” Karls answered over his shoulder. “I know.”
*****
Parno elected to stay in the palace that night, out of spite more than anything else he acknowledged to himself. Willard and Feng would stay with him as well. His apartments within the palace were roomy enough for the three. Willard had posted guards from the escort on the entrance to the apartments.
As the prince sat in the window seat overlooking the city, he sharpened his sword in the dying sunlight. Slowly, carefully, methodically. He was pleased with the blade already, but continued to slowly run the stone over the blade anyway.
Parno was glad that Darvo had not accompanied him to Nasil. He would not want his oldest and most faithful retainer to see what a mess his liege had made of what should have been a simple matter.
Once again the young prince berated himself, cursing bitterly under his breath. Why had he not foreseen how Therron would seek to trap him? Therron’s presence should have been a warning to him, but in his anger Parno had ignored it.
Now he would face the champion swordsman of all Soulan in mortal combat. All over the bruised dignity of a Duke who was unworthy to bear the title. The blood of House McLeod had been strained too fine in Edward Willows. He was a coward.
Parno was certain that Therron had assumed that he would withdraw his challenge once hearing he would face Enri Willard. Withdraw in fear. Parno smirked in spite of himself at the thought. Therron knew too little of his younger brother.
No, he would not withdraw. Karls was right about that. If Parno withdrew the challenge and apologized, then both he and Edema would be stained for life. He himself could bear that well enough as he had done it all his life
…but Edema deserved better and he owed it to her for the kindness she had shown him.
So tomorrow he would kill Enri Willard. Or at least injure him so severely that he might never again draw a sword. The effect on Karls Willard was difficult to ascertain. The younger Willard was tight lipped. He had not shared the subject of his discussion with Enri after the formals were observed and Parno had not asked.
Cho Feng entered the room, quietly as ever. Parno looked up at his teacher and laid aside his sword. He welcomed the distraction.
“Good evening, my Prince,” Feng said.
“Evening, Master Feng,” Parno nodded. “Have you enjoyed our stay so far?”
“It is a beautiful city, young noble,” Feng nodded, “and the people are, if not friendly, not unfriendly.” He smiled.
“Yes, it is a great city, I suppose,” Parno agreed, looking out the window. “I suppose I am usually too bitter to notice that when I am here. I despise this place. I hate it as much as I am capable of hating anything.”
“I understand,” Feng replied. “One associates events with places and in the same manner. You have suffered greatly here, thus you cannot help but associate being here with being mistreated. It is natural.”
“I guess,” Parno shrugged. “I don’t have your way of seeing things, Master Feng. I am educated, of course, but I have never had a talent for taking the wider view as you do. Darvo tried to teach me, of course, but a rebellious child rarely listens to even his most trusted adviser.”
“Such can be said for many a ruler, Prince Parno,” Feng chuckled. “Do not feel alone in that.” The oriental weapons master hesitated for a moment, then asked, “Are you prepared? Ready for sunrise?”
“I am,” Parno nodded. “I wish it were not necessary, you know,” he added.
“I do. I also know that the choice of champions pains you, as well. Karls Willard is a good friend and loyal retainer. Your offer was very noble. Most people in your position would not even had thought to offer at all.”
“Well, every now and then I manage to do something right,” Parno snorted. “It’s rare, though. You should write the dates down when you see it.”
“No one does right every time, Parno,” Feng observed softly. “You blame yourself for much, but this was not your fault. I sensed during the meeting before your father that this was all planned very carefully.”
“I’m sure it was,” Parno nodded, “no doubt with Therron’s oversight. Possibly even with my father’s blessing, though I hope that’s not true. Regardless, there is no denying that my stupidity is the root of this problem. I think, no matter what happens tomorrow, that I shall leave Soulan, Master Feng…for good.” Feng’s eyes registered surprise at that. Parno had often groused about his family, but it was always apparent that he truly loved his land and especially his people.
“And where will you go?”
“I don’t know,” Parno admitted. “Perhaps west. Maybe even south into the Latin Kingdoms. There are many places in the world I can venture and never return to this place, where I’m hated no matter what.”
“You are not hated by everyone, Prince,” Feng pointed out, “and you now have a regiment of soldiers to command. One that is very loyal to you as well.”
“It’s a farce,” Parno snorted. “After tomorrow, it would not surprise me to lose that as well.” He shrugged. “It’s nothing I didn’t expect.”
“You seem to take great delight in expecting the worst, young noble,” Feng said, his eyebrows rising. “I cannot help but wonder at that.”
“Just being honest with myself.”
“You automatically assume that you will fail, or, should you succeed, receive no recognition for that success.”
“Well, that has been the pattern so far in life,” Parno laughed quietly. Bitterly.
“I see,” Feng nodded. “Your spirit is not in balance, Parno McLeod. Until you can regain that balance, your life will not be what you desire.”
“Well, I’ll put that on my to-do list, Cho,” Parno said with a smile, “assuming I live that long.”
“You will live,” Feng assured him, turning to the door. “Your brother, Memmnon, is awaiting in the anteroom. He desires an audience with you.” Parno looked up sharply at that.
“Send him in, then.”
Memmnon walked into the room slowly, but steadily. He looked at Parno, still sitting in the window, examining his sword once again.
“Preparing, I see.”
“Yes.”
“It is not too late, you know. To back out, I mean. No one would blame you for not facing Enri Willard.”
“I would,” Parno said quietly. “I do not fear Enri Willard, Memmnon.”
“No, I didn’t think you did,” Memmnon acknowledged. “You may be guilty of many things, Parno, but fear is not in you.” Parno looked up at his brother, their eyes meeting.
“What brings you here, Memmnon? You knew I would not withdraw. Concerned for my safety, is it?”
“Hardly,” Memmnon snorted, then realized how that sounded. “Not your safety, I mean. I am confident that you will triumph tomorrow.” Now Parno’s eyes registered true surprise.
“I am not a fool, little brother,” Memmnon spoke calmly. “I am aware of your skill with a blade. Only the law forbidding your entry in competition has kept you from holding the King’s Sword. Enri would know it, had Therron not blinded him to the fact.” Memmnon crossed to an empty chair near his brother and settled into it.
“You know that Therron and Edward Willows set this up, do you not?” Parno said flatly. Memmnon nodded reluctantly.
“I think that Willows is nothing more than a dupe, honestly, Parno,” Memmnon replied. “They were here, not long ago—the Willows. Therron took Edward aside and spoke to him in private. I didn’t think anything of it at that time. Now, with hindsight, I see what must have happened.” He paused for a moment, looking at his youngest brother.
“Parno, I want to tell you something,” he said finally. “Things between you and I have rarely been any better than between you and the others. I know that and also acknowledge that the fault for that is mine. Over the past months, however, I have worked with you some closer as you built your regiment. I have come to respect you for that work and for the efforts you took on my behalf, on the family’s behalf, in the Alma Province.”
“Those were not the actions of a witless boy, playing at being prince. They were the actions of a Royal Son, loyal to his lord and land. Your statements this afternoon shocked father, I think. Therron, of course, is beyond any reasoning and Sherron and he share a brain, but father is isolated tonight in deep thought. I believe you may have hit him between the eyes earlier.” Memmnon paused for a bit, choosing his words with care. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, but firm.
“I’m sorry, Parno, for the pain I have caused you. I’m ashamed, as well. My behavior was never that of a good brother. It was certainly not the behavior of a Crown Prince. I cannot undo the harm I’ve done, little brother. I can only go forward from today. I pledge to you, Parno, that I will never hold you to blame for the death of my mother, our mother, again. Nor will I treat with you in any fashion less than what you deserve.” He stood abruptly, as if fearing he would lose the tight rein he was holding on his emotions.
“It is little enough, I know, to offer you for all the suffering you have endured over the years, but it is all I have. I hope that someday you can forgive me.” With that, Memmnon turned without waiting for an answer and departed, leaving his brother still sitting in the window.
Parno would reflect, later on, that nothing his brother could have said would have surprised him more that those few brief words. To hear his brother acknowledge that he had treated Parno unfairly was surprise enough. To hear an apology, accompanied by a promise that it would not continue, was almost too much for the younger Prince. But for now, he was simply too stunned to say anything as his brother left the room.
It was several minutes before Parno returned to his s
word, but return he did. Despite Memmnon’s abrupt declaration there remained the matter of Enri Willard, Therron, and Edward Willows. Sunrise would come soon enough.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The day dawned cool and clear in Nasil. Word of the ‘contest’, as such duels were known, had spread like wildfire and every noble within easy reach of the palace had hurried to Nasil, eager to see the show.
Parno arose well before sunrise and ate a small meal. Cho Feng assisted him with his armor, while Karls Willard stood by with the Prince’s sword and shield.
Finally, as the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, the three made their way in silence to the inner courtyard.
*****