by Reiter
“I believe his tick is a condition of his nerves,” Vaiyorl shared. “I’ve spoken with the man directly on several occasions and he only ticked during one of them. The Emperor had entered the room.”
“But look, Father,” Shonsatah said as Valian led Annodia and his retainers out of the portal onto the arena floor. He wore a simple white blouse, black leggings, and very fine black boots that nearly reached his knee. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he walked along the ground at an interesting pace, swinging his left fist out from his hip on every fourth stride.
“What does he think he is doing?” Yorlson asked. His arms were still folded and he refused to sit. Being ordered by his father not to attend the tournament had been something of a shock to the young man and he was not dealing with it well. “What’s wrong with his hand?”
“Nothing,” Pirion replied. “This is the presentation of KnighTs. See how each of the retainers is carrying the standard with the House seal on it... according to the old code, opening ceremonies are supposed to be more about the Houses the champions represent than the champions themselves.”
“You know, little brother, there is a reason why they call it the ‘old code’!” Yorlson returned. “They should call it the ‘dead code’. Absolutely no sense of style at all.”
Getting up from his seat, Pirion snapped, “What good does it serve for a KnighT to have style before the tournament? A lot like what good does it serve for you to call yourself a Jhormynn, right?”
“Easy, son,” Vaiyorl said calmly.
Turning to look his father in the eyes, the youngest Jhormynn child steeled himself to his resolve. “Forgive me, Father, I mean no insult to you or your station, but this charade has to stop!
“You’re a traitor!” he accused, looking and pointing at Yorlson. “And if you think Valian doesn’t see it, you’re a bigger fool than any of us believe you to be!”
“What are you saying, Brother?” Yorlson asked.
“The truth! Something you’ve had a hard time dealing with for far too long. By the gods, you are an utter tool, and a foul one at that!”
“Pirion!” Guysorla exclaimed. She started to get up, but found her arm in the grasp of her husband.
“I would hear this, my wife,” Vaiyorl said softly, slowly turning his head to look at her. “And I think it would do us all some good to allow Pirion to finish.”
“You agree with him!” Yorlson accused.
“I cannot say. I have yet to hear what he has to say, but it is obvious he speaks with a fire indicative of a suppressed perspective. I will allow that fire to burn out instead of trying to cap it further and risk an explosion. Continue, Pirion.”
“I will not hear this,” Yorlson declared, turning on his heels.
“Careful, Brother,” Pirion pressed. “Valian isn’t here to save you.”
Yorlson whirled around and a slight breeze blew across his face, a sign often made when emotions and a connection to a threshold of the Energies was made. Everyone in the room felt it, but no one moved against him. Yorlson stayed his hand and calmed himself.
“I could say the same for you, Pirion.”
“You misunderstand my point,” the youngest sibling replied, sounding both angry and wounded. “Valian knows you betrayed him. He knew you would.”
“Father, perhaps you should have words with Pirion’s Praeceptor,” Yorlson suggested. “This behavior is simply unaccep–”
“You didn’t look back!” Pirion exclaimed and he stared at his brother through watery eyes, watching his face slowly frown with confusion. “The night of the challenge...when you left the dining hall, suddenly on Valian’s side, you never looked back. If you’re going to lie with any hope of being effective, perhaps you should look into how people act when they’re being truthful.
“And you never told Valian about the transmissions you received that night, in your room, after he made his challenge. Why didn’t you tell him you were in contact with the Countess?”
“Pirion?” Shonsatah called to her brother, shocked by what she had just heard.
“I will need you to confirm that, son–”
“Seekers, show yourselves!” Pirion commanded, turning his back on Yorlson as tears fell from his eyes.
Coming out of each person in the chamber was a small smoky white vaporous form with a human torso, trailing in smoke. Each form had a face similar to the person they had come from. They all turned to face Pirion before bowing.
“Disperse.”
Each of the forms faded from sight as Shonsatah got up from her seat and approached her younger brother. “Pirion... what were those?”
“They were Seekers,” Vaiyorl said, flaring eyes of awe upon his son. “An enchantment I mastered ages ago.” Vaiyorl closed his eyes and nodded. “This is why I did not detect them. Those were my Seekers, weren’t they?”
“I found your old book of spells the day after my Test Tower,” Pirion revealed.
“But even if you were able to cast the spell, they should have been your Seekers, not mine.”
“I didn’t cast the spell,” Pirion divulged. “But I did find a memory stone of when you mastered it. I enchanted the memory of you. I could never keep him around for too long a time, but he finally did teach me how to cast your spell as you.”
“Gracious!” Vaiyorl sighed, falling back into his chair. He looked at his wife who was equally awestruck. “I suppose that settles the argument of whether he is suited for Sorcery.”
“At the very least,” Guysorla agreed before returning to the moment. “But what did these Seekers reveal to you? And don’t think for a moment we will not have to address what a gross misstep–”
“The Seekers do not report to me unless someone has taken an action against a member of the position of this House,” Pirion shared. “And before you question my perspective, I explained the edicts of the House Jhormynn as written by and spoken to the Empress by our father on the day he became a Duke. If the action went against that edict, the Seeker would tell me.
“Needless to say, Valian’s Seeker came to me on an almost weekly basis.” Pirion’s bottom lip folded into his mouth as he mustered the strength to turn and look at Yorlson. “Yours came to me three or four times a day. Three or four... a couple of days I had seven visits.”
“You mean, you have proof that Valian is in league with criminals,” Yorlson concluded.
“Of course he is,” Pirion replied. “The best way to control that element is to become part of it. Nothing happens in Belrayne that Valian isn’t informed. The same goes for the regions bordering on his.
“It was through the same network that he was able to find the contacts Lusorra used to appropriate the War Tower she sent after us. He found five, including the Deck Commander who gave the order to fire on the skiff we were on. You know, it’s funny... after he made that discovery, the Seeker stopped coming to me to report what Valian was doing regarding his organized crime dealings. But I did see when he set you up with Larry. He knew his own man was no good and would try to betray him. Valian kept him close and had him monitored. He was listening to the very first transmission you had with Larry and you’ve been Valian’s fool ever since.”
“Let us keep to the dispensing of information and reserve opinions for later,” Vaiyorl instructed.
“There is nothing more to reveal,” Pirion noted. “... nothing more that I can confirm.”
“Which would imply you have more, but it is information you have yet to prove,” Guysorla asserted.
“Just conjecture,” Pirion replied. “Circumstantial at best.”
“I would still like to hear it,” his mother pressed.
“Me too,” Shonsatah whispered.
“Okay, but you might want to sit down,” Pirion warned. “My brother has been a very busy young man!”
You were born to win, but to be a winner, you must plan to win, prepare to win, and expect to win.
Zig Ziglar
(Rims Time: XI-4907.04)
&
nbsp; When Valian completed his walk around the arena floor and was starting for the Western doors, Geraldius started speaking again, announcing the last contestant of the tournament.
“Tic. To close out our field of champions is a Master KnighT of great renown. After his entry was confirmed – tic – our field of contestants dropped by thirty-seven names! That says something about those who departed from consideration... and even more about those that have stayed the course! But – tic – alas, I digress, and the man I have to announce is not known for his patience. A master of men who has dared to even – tic – challenge the gods, Sir Evard Bruntelior!”
The crowds shouted as Valian and company walked by the Western doors, remaining inside the arena. They stopped just after passing them and turned to face the Emperor’s Box. In unison they all lowered their heads while dropping to their right knees.
Evard came out of the portal riding a mechanical black dragon. Each person in his entourage, numbering just over fifty people, rode double on hover-bikes with one person driving and the other waving the banner of the Bruntelior Family; a wingless black dragon coiled around a bloody pike was his coat of arms. The crowd cheered for him louder than they had for anyone else, and the volume was sustained.
Turning to see Valian and his people, Evard frowned, confused as to what the boy was doing. He snorted as he smirked and shouted, “It’s too late to beg for forgiveness, child!” Many of the people in the stands started laughing, cheering for Evard even more. “But keep your knee to me and I will see to it that your dismissal is quick and painless.”
“Nay!” Ulreejun cried out, his voice amplified by Brick. “He does not kneel to you.
Turning to face the Emperor, the Elder KnighT bowed. “Your Majesty, with your permission.”
“Consider it given, Jorkethian,” TrenGal said calmly, slowly getting up from his seat.
“Sire, this arena... these grounds... they have been the site of countless battles of woman and man. Some were champions of a House and some were KnighTs of the realm. Some of these contests even your eyes have witnessed. As such, this arena is a Field of Honor!”
“And no warrior who considers themselves of and for the Throne can depart from a Field of Honor without dispensation from their liege,” TrenGal stated, chuckling as he too recalled the old code. Shaking his head, the Emperor put his eyes on Valian and stared for a moment. “Sir Valian, it seems you have become my teacher.”
“Your Majesty,” Valian shouted without lifting is head. “I am hardly worthy of that honor. Like the moon reflects the brilliance of the sun, if Your Majesty sees me at all, it is only because I have been blessed to receive your light. Allow me to shine so that those who would dare oppose you see that light as well. For those woeful few I do have many lessons to teach!”
Looking back at his wife, TrenGal allowed his eyes to gape wide for a moment. “You might have painted this picture with too light a brush, my dear,” he remarked before looking back at Valian.
“Sir KnighT, this station has received your acknowledgement. I bid you and your family to rise. Take your leave and prepare for the tournament.”
The Jhormynn Contingent moved in unison and they moved slowly, coming up from the ground. They lifted their heads at the same speed as they began to chant in a low growl. Valian’s retainers never lifted their heads past face-forward, but the young KnighT continued to lift his head until he looked upon the Emperor.
“My Emperor, in your name, this KnighT will embrace victory! Your Majesty!” Valian punched his right hand into his left palm just in front of his face. As his fist smacked into his hand, each of his retainers turned to face him, taking a single step toward him, shouting, “Ho!” A bright flash of light covered the entire group and when it faded, the only thing that remained was the standard of the House Jhormynn. Another wave of applause came from the seats as the patrons came up out of their seats, calling Valian’s name and the name of Jhormynn.
“And with the slightest application, yet another tremendous impact is made,” a voice commented, drawing Ulreejun’s attention away from the Emperor’s Box. He turned to look at who had spoken and he chuckled.
“They will let just about anyone attend these things,” Ulreejun chuckled, gesturing for the man to join him.
“So it would seem,” Seranos remarked as he entered the row. He looked at the empty seats and frowned. “I came to say hello and to tell the Duke that I had the best wishes for his KnighT... but to find that he is not in attendance is somewhat distressing.”
“It has been declared a security issue,” Ulreejun revealed. “And since Valian is Duke Vaiyorl’s one and only KnighT–”
“When he declares a security matter, the Duke is obligated to heed his directive,” Seranos finished as he approached. “Is there reason to suspect a threat?”
“The boy is young and full of himself,” Ulreejun replied as he mentally scanned the immediate area.
“And he believes he has found at least one entity responsible for the attack on the Jhormynn Family that robbed him of his birth parents,” Ulreejun mentally projected.
“Being knighted by the Throne can be a tremendous pressure,” Seranos returned.
“And thus the challenge that this tournament has become the witnessing grounds for,” Seranos thought. “He believes Sir Evard and the Countess Necaltiere to be involved in the plot!”
“Well, the Countess, at any rate,” Ulreejun projected. “The extension of the challenge to Evard was a measure he added... to protect me.”
“A great pressure indeed,” Ulreejun agreed. “It does set a rather high bar to maintain. We might have stumbled upon the chink in the young KnighT’s armour.
“Protect you?!” Seranos thought. “Master, from what?”
“From myself,” Ulreejun admitted. “Evard is a point of contention I should have resolved long ago. I allowed the death of his son to take me from my focus and where I feel my best applied potential to be. My Phytos means to correct that matter.”
“Perhaps you’d like to take a wager on that chink,” Seranos challenged.
“Did I receive that clearly?” the Grandmaster Praeceptor inquired. “Where you feel your best applied potential? Master, are you teaching again?”
“Yes!” Sandra shouted, pumping her fist into the air. “Worked like a freakin’ charm!” Running over to the Twins, the three clenched in a celebratory embrace. “I love you guys!”
“Love you too,” Cedric said softly, pressing the side of his face into her shoulder.
“Couldn’t have done it without you, Chief,” Kyle added.
Sandra came away from the hug, placing her attention on the only person in the Prep Room who was shaking their head in disbelief. “You feelin’ alright over there, Odi?”
The young, fair-haired Vohlterran blinked her green eyes rapidly and breathed in deeply several times before turning to look at the Technician. “We made it,” she whispered.
“Yeah, we sure did,” Sandra smiled. “You pulled it off, kid.”
“That was just a Flare spell followed up by a Slide Step,” the young woman explained. “But I’m not supposed to be able to move that much mass.”
“You probably can’t,” Sandra laughed. “So don’t try. But thanks to the rigs we’re wearing, the moment you cast, the rest of us were as heavy as light. I figured you could haul a few shards of light.”
“That was very well done, Odiadahdri,” Valian said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Well done indeed!”
“You guys should watch the playback,” Carlos suggested. “The look on Bruntelior’s face is priceless!”
“That bad, eh?” Kethgeegan asked, standing with his head down and his eyes still closed. The thought of having his body converted into light did not rest well with him. There just seemed too many things that could have gone wrong.
“It’s like he’s about to cry,” Carlos said. “Sitting there on that wreck-mech dragon’s back looking like he wants to pout ‘why is no one looking at me an
ymore’? Waaaaahhhhh!” The retainers joined in a chorus of laughter that Quilori quickly quieted.
“Alright, everyone, we’ve had our fun,” she said, holding up her hand to signal for silence. “But now we need to focus on the work ahead of us. What’s the first contest?”
“The Chase,” Annodia reported.
The goal was to be the first to cross the finish line at the completion of the third lap. At least, that was the rule for the final heat. The qualifiers were only one lap with the top two finishers allowed to compete in the final run.
The Chase was a combination of a sprint, a marathon, a confidence course, a tour of the city skyline, and a mountain bike trail... sans any sort of a bike. Of all the races in the tournament, it was the only one where interference with other racers would result in penalties if not removal from the race altogether.
The only piece of equipment used were gravity skates. Plates mounted on the bottom of specialized running boots that would generate hover-thrust fields, causing the wearer to hover over the ground and allow them to skate on air. The skates had directional thrusters that could be used as many times as there was laps in the race. Even with that they had been programmed only to burn for two seconds.
The race started on a wide stretch of track where the contestants would be allowed to get up to speed and then negotiate a thirty-meter section of hardened hills one and a half meters in diameter. After that were the cross bars of various heights, and most of them moved freely left and right as well as up and down.
The next section was one hundred meters of shin-deep mud. If a racer’s skates were not correctly lined up under their bodyweight, the racer could fall. Despite one’s speed, it was unlikely anyone could maintain their momentum for the entire stretch. Since it was next to impossible to skate on mud, the racers would have to drop down and wade through the slippery mess.