by James Dale
"Now we can share a drink as well," Jack replied, as they arrived at the hospitality table. "What will you have Cassy? Wine or beer?" There was a large selection to choose from on the table. Both red and white wine were available as well as several different brews of beer. The Steward of Immer had spared no expense to ensure all tastes of the many realms would be satisfied.
"Beer gives me gas," Cassaban smiled.
"Wine it is," Jack laughed. "Red or white?"
"Red of course."
"Two glasses of your finest red," Jack informed the server behind the table.
"Very good sir," the man nodded, filling two generous glasses.
"To your health," Jack said, handing Cassaban his drink.
"To victory," he replied, touching his glass to Braedan's, and they drank their toasts. "Excellent vintage," Cassy nodded. "Surcca Valley? 784?"
"783," the server smiled. "You have a knowledgeable tongue sir."
"I've stomped a few grapes in my day," Cassaban grinned. "My feet were still purple a year after I joined the legion."
"Enjoy yourselves sirs," the server bowed. "And good luck tomorrow."
"Come friend John," Cassaban said, taking Braedan's arm. "I'll introduce you to some of the other contestants."
Cassaban it seemed, knew just about everyone in the hall. Those who had come for the Competition of the Sword at any rate. Several greeted the former officer of Brydium warmly, and those who did not nevertheless treated the veteran swordsman with respect due to his skill with the blade. Jack's silk mask drew only the occasional raised eyebrow as Cassaban introduced him about the room. Most of the contestants did not even seem notice he wore the concealing headdress, and if they did, they were always sensitive to his desire to remain anonymous.
The hot topic of conversation as the two men made their way about the room almost universally was the siege of the Tower of the White Horse by Kiathan's troops. One enterprising veteran was even forming a betting pool on how long the battle would last once the Raashan Brigades finally worked up enough nerve to attack the Doridanian knights. Wagers ranged from a few Doridanian copper Dor’kars to three Byrdianic silver Th'rakken and estimates of the coming battle's length were as short as a day to almost five months.
"Care to place a bet?" the veteran asked Braedan. "You look like could afford to lose some money."
"Lose?" Jack considered slowly. "Maybe? Maybe not? I've been inside the Tower and I know of few of the knights."
"Oh?" Cassaban asked. "Who?"
"Sir Gain Ellgereth for one."
"A promising young swordsman," the veteran nodded. "A pity he's not here for the Haelfest. Rumor has it there's no love lost between him and Kiathan. Now that would have been a match worth seeing! And you know him? Then show your confidence in young Gain with some of your coin. How long do you think he and his mates can hold out in their tower?"
"I'll go you one better," Braedan replied. "I'll wager ten gold Th'rakken Kiathan's cur-hounds never work up the nerve to attack."
"I'll give you three to one odds," the veteran laughed.
"I'll take some of that action," another contestant nodded enthusiastically.
"Me too!" added another.
"And I!" announced a third.
"You'd better write all this down Jubel," Cassaban told the veteran. "And while you're at it, put me down for the same bet as my friend here," he said, slapping Jack's shoulder.
"I've also had the privilege of visiting the Tower of the White Horse," Cassy informed him as they moved on to another group. "Strongest citadel this side of Illroc Adar. Kiathan would be a fool to waste his precious brigades on those walls. Now if those were my men camped outside the tower I would..."
Whatever plan Cassaban might have had for defeating the Knights of the White Horse was interrupted as Daenel d'Lachaeland stepped once more to the dais. "Quiet everyone!" the Steward of Immer shouted. "Please! Quiet everyone! Thank you," he smiled, as all conversation died in the chamber. "If I may have your attention? It is time to draw the first pairing for the Competition of the Sword!"
"The pairings Darius," he said, motioning for his assistant, and an expectant hush fell upon the chamber as the crier handed Daenel a ornate, leather bound ledger. "In keeping with the tradition begun by my late father forty years ago, the first match shall be between the reigning Swordmaster of Aralon, Kiathan Ellgaer, Duke of Raashan and newly proclaimed Prince of Doridan."
Rousing cheers erupted as Kiathan stood to hear the naming of his opponent.
"Facing Prince Kiathan on the field of honor will be..." Daenel paused dramatically, "Derhorn Redmane! Earl of Glennfel! Of the kingdom of Amorhad!"
"Damn!" someone in the crowd sighed heavily. No doubt the unfortunate earl.
"Better luck next Haelfest Sir Derhorn!" Daenel smiled, eliciting hearty laughter from the crowd. "The next pairing," he continued, reading from the ledger, "will be between Riccolli Cione of Galfrey and Ferren con'Dorn of Valoth!"
On down the list Daenel went, naming swordsmen from all parts of western Aralon. Borg Cassaban's name was soon announced, paired against Oric Banella of Gath.
"Big and slow," Cassy smiled happily. "I'll not even break a sweat."
Jack's pairing followed immediately.
"The Disinherited Knight and Tamaran Skuar of Donian!"
"Do you know him?" Jack asked, turning to Cassaban.
"Aye," Cassy replied. "He's good. Tamaran made it into the Round of Sixteen last Haelfest. If you press him hard at the outset, he's prone to over-extend his reach and leave himself..."
"Hello Borg," someone interrupted.
Cassaban stiffed. "I know that voice," he said slowly.
"I should hope so," the speaker replied.
"It's been a long time Marten," Cassaban said, turning to face his former comrade in arms.
"Too long," the Dragon Guards officer nodded.
"Captain du Gail," Jack said. "I was wondering when you'd join us."
"Your grace," he bowed.
"Your grace?" Cassaban said, raising his eyebrow at Braedan.
"How did you come by that?" du Gail asked, inclining his head toward the scar on Cassaban's cheek.
Borg reached up to caress the puckered, white tissue that pulled the corner of his lip into a perpetual grin. "Life has not been easy since we last spoke Marten," he replied.
"I can imagine," du Gail nodded.
"Gentlemen," Jack smiled, "I can see you've some catching up to do. If you'll excuse me, I'll..."
"There's no need for you to leave us your grace," Captain du Gail interrupted. "In fact, you should also hear what I have to say. Seeing as how you are greatly responsible."
"Responsible for what?" Cassaban asked warily, his eyes shifting about quickly in search of the nearest exit.
"There's no need to make another escape Cassy," du Gail said, smiling for the first time. "I'm not here to arrest you. I could not even if I wanted to."
"Then why are you here Marten?" Cassaban asked, relaxing somewhat, but still ready to flee at the first sign of trouble.
"I've brought you a letter from the king."
"A letter from the Dragonslayer? For me?"
"Indeed," du Gail nodded. Reaching into the folds of his cloak, he brought forth a rolled parchment and handed it to the startled swordsman.
"What does it say, Cassy?" Jack asked as Cassaban slowly unrolled the parchment.
"Is this your idea of a joke Marten?" Cassaban whispered. "Because if it is, I assure you, I am not amused."
"It is no joke my friend," du Gail smiled.
"What does it say?" Jack repeated.
"To whom it may concern," he read. "Borg Cassaban, former First Lieutenant of the Eighth Cilidar Lancers, is hereby granted full and unconditional pardon for all crimes committed in the kingdom of Brydium, to wit, the striking of a superior officer while assigned to the Eighth Cilidar Lancers, and fleeing from lawful and just punishment of said crime. Given under my hand in the city of Immer, this 17th
day of Aerilin, in the 815th Year of Victory. It is signed, Theros Th'nar, King of Brydium and Bearer of the Highsword Dragonslayer."
"Do you accept this pardon?" Captain du Gail asked formally.
"Are you kidding Marten?" Cassaban laughed. "Of course, I accept it."
"Then I am hereby authorized by his royal highness," du Gail announced, "to inform you all lands and titles forfeited by the House of Cassaban shall be returned at once. You are further-more restored to full citizenship to the kingdom of Brydium with all rights and privileges granted by the protection of the crown. Do you accept this as well?"
"I do," Cassaban said hesitantly, slowly realizing that this pardon would not be without price.
"Then it is also my duty to inform you..." Captain du Gail grinned.
"Oh hell," Cassaban muttered.
"...you are hereby commissioned Reserve Captain in the Imperial Legion of Brydium." du Gail continued. “Subject to recall in time of extreme crisis to the realm.”
"No damnit! No!" Cassaban cried.
"As such, you are ordered returned to active duty, affective immediately upon completion of Ljmarn Haelfest, for assignment with the Eastern Forward Legion, Thonbor Garrison, at the request of his grace the Duke of Thonbor for duty with the Golden Lions."
"Blood and Fire!" Cassaban shouted. "You tricked me Marten!"
"Tricked you captain?" du Gail grinned. "You have freely accepted the king's pardon..."
"Yes, but..."
"...witnessed by a commissioned officer of Brydium..."
"But..."
"...as well as a noble of the king's court."
"You tricked me!" Cassaban repeated lamely.
"I assure you captain," the captain smiled, "this is all perfectly legal. As you can plainly see, the king's signature and royal seal are displayed in accordance with the laws of Brydium."
"You've just been lionized Cassy," Jack said, laying a friendly hand on his shoulder. "It's not as terrible as it sounds. The new Duke of Thonbor isn't such a bad guy."
"You know him?"
"Intimately," Jack nodded. "If you're half the officer Marten claims, you'll rise quickly through the ranks. Opportunity for advancement in his Golden Lions is wide open. Why one of his troops, a Kirk Vanar by name, was promoted from sergeant to captain in a single day."
"What?"
"It's the truth," Jack nodded. "I was right there when it happened."
"A hard piece of rock, Thonbor," Cassaban mused. "These Golden Lions? I've never heard of them before. Are they some new unit?"
"Formed just this spring."
"Good men?"
"Some of the best in Brydium," Jack replied. "Erlwin val'Durn? The Gray Tiger? He's one of them."
"I've fought with them Cassy," du Gail added. "You'll be hard pressed to find a braver unit in all the legion."
"Why thank you captain," Jack bowed.
"I but speak the truth."
"Are you one of these Lions, John?" Cassaban asked.
"I am," Jack said, then lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "In fact, I'll let you in on a little secret. It just so happens I am the Duke of Thonbor."
"Well now..." Cassaban slowly grinned, regarding his masked friend in a completely new light. "That sort of changes things doesn't it?"
"Then you accept this posting Captain Cassaban?" Captain du Gail asked.
"Do I have a choice?"
"Actually...no," du Gail smiled. "But it cannot be worse than the alternative."
"I still say you tricked me Marten," Cassaban muttered quietly.
"Consider it repayment for running out on me in Cilidar."
"Oh no! That was an entirely different situation. We're not even! Not by a long-shot."
"You will have ample opportunity to settle the score my friend."
"Don't think I won't take every chance I get to do just that."
"Damn I've missed you Cassy," du Gail laughed, embracing his former comrade. "Things have been cursed boring since you left Brydium."
"Just remember your words Marten," Cassaban slowly smiled, "the first time you have to pull my bacon out of the fire."
"I won't forget," du Gail promised as he released him.
"Care to join us for drink Marten?" Jack asked, raising his empty glass. "To toast Captain Cassaban's return to the fold?"
"Perhaps another time your grace," du Gail replied. "People are beginning to take notice of us. Not a good thing considering who is in attendance tonight," he said, inclining his head toward the balcony where Kiathan was seated.
"Of course," Jack nodded. "Another time then."
"I'll see you again tomorrow Cassy."
"Thanks for the warning Marten."
"Good night your grace," the captain bowed. "Cassy. Good luck to you both in the competition."
"What about you Cassy?" Jack said as du Gail disappeared back into the crowd. "Will you join me in a toast?"
"I'd be delighted...John? Or would you prefer I call you your grace?"
"How about Jack?" Braedan smiled. "You don't have to technically report to me until after the Haelfest."
"Very well...Jack. What say you we have another taste of Surcca Valley?"
"Why, I think that's an excellent idea captain," Jack laughed.
Chapter Twenty-nine
The Disinherited Knight
As the two men returned to the hospitality table for another glass of the delicious wine, the announcement of the pairings for the Competition of the Sword was drawing to a close.
"Sixty-four contestants in all," Daenel d'Lachaeland said, closing the ledger and passing it back to his assistant. "Less than half the number which competed in our last Haelfest, and though some few are seeking to make their names known in the Whesguard for the first time, many are swordsmen of renown. I am confident I speak for everyone here tonight when I wish them each good luck in the coming week."
"Now without further delay, let us move on to the pairings for the Competition of the Lance. Facing Lancemaster Julian Brin of Briahad will be..."
"Shall we go friend Jack?" Cassaban asked, finishing his drink and placing the empty goblet on the hospitality table. "I've had about all the announcements I can stand for one night."
The suggestion suited Jack just fine. Throughout the night his gaze had been wandering beyond the dais and the empty throne to the balcony where the royals were seated. When those looks lasted for longer than a few seconds, a certain Doridanian maiden of auburn mane and sea-green eyes inevitably felt the passion of his gaze. When she searched the crowd below for its source however, her own gaze swept over Braedan without recognition, breaking his heart anew each time.
"Fine with me," Jack nodded with a sigh, tearing his eyes away from the balcony after a last, wistful glance. "Where shall we go Cassy? I have a room at The Broken Arrow. I am sharing it with two of my Lions, but you are certainly welcome to join us."
"The Broken Arrow?" Cassaban snorted. "Thanks, but no. I've a cot the Mercenary Guild Hall. It's not much but I'll wager it's more comfortable than anything the Arrow has to offer. Not to mention, it's probably safer. If you don't mind my asking, why are you staying there? Surely the Duke of Thonbor can afford better lodgings."
"Let's just say it's necessary I keep a low profile while I'm here in Immer and leave it at that," Jack replied evasively. "I promise I will explain later."
"Of course," Cassaban nodded. "Forget I mentioned it. You certainly have no obligation to explain your actions to me...your grace."
"No. I think maybe I do," Jack said, reconsidering. "You're a Golden Lion of Thonbor now. Not officially perhaps, but close enough. You deserve some explanation. I have an...unresolved quarrel with the Duke of Raashan. If Kiathan knew I was here in Immer, or more precisely, if he knew where I was in Immer, he might decide it would be better if we didn't settle our dispute face to face."
"Say no more," Cassaban nodded gravely. "I understand completely. Whatever this...quarrel you have with the Kiathan, it should be settled
on the field of honor. As befits warriors."
"Thank you," Braedan smiled. "Not everyone holds the same opinion."
"Marten?"
"Among others."
"That's surprising," Cassaban remarked. "He was always one to settle differences out in the open. It must be a delicate matter indeed if he advises against resolving this quarrel in public."
"Delicate," Jack laughed wryly, "does not even begin to describe this matter my friend."
"You have piqued my curiosity your grace," Cassaban smiled. "That hasn't happened in a long time. Decades in fact. If your offer still stands, I believe I will accompany you to The Broken Arrow after all. Though I will still decline the offer to bunk there. If you want more fitting lodgings for a soldier, you and your men should join me at the Guild Hall. I shall put in a good word for you with the Guild officer."
"I’ll consider it," Jack said. "But for now, the Arrow is sufficient for my needs. Come, we will go there right now and I'll introduce you to some of the Golden Lions of Thonbor."
"After you your grace." Cassaban bowed.
The two men made their way from the crowded chamber floor and back out to the palace gate where they exchanged their marker chits for their swords. They made small talk with a bored young guard while they waited for the grooms to return with their mounts, then climbed into the saddle and headed down streets filled with revelers to The Broken Arrow. Arriving back at the inn, Jack was surprised to find Kirk Vanar sitting on the floor of their room, rolling dice with Cyran and Erlwin.
"Hello Kirk," Jack smiled. "What are you doing here?"
"Winning," Kirk replied happily.
"Besides that?"
"I brought your armor m'Lord."
"How? Aren't Kiathan's men still watching the Two Fountains?"
"Yes, they are," Kirk grinned. "Apparently their instructions do not include inspecting a wagon load of rotten cabbages. I'm afraid you'll need to air the armor out my Lord. We had it wrapped, but well...those cabbages were rotten. It's still nice and shiny though. Master Sennaca's reputation is well deserved."
"I'm glad you approve," Jack laughed, removing his mask. "Now if you three rogues can spare a moment away from your game, I'd like to introduce the newest member of the Golden Lions. Cassy, this is Cyran d'Abba, sneak-about extraordinaire. On his right is the notorious horse-thief Erlwin val'Durn, whom you will remember as the Gray Tiger. The scoundrel with all the money pilled in front of him is Kirk Vanar, my right arm and Captain of the Golden Lions of Thonbor. Gentlemen, this is Borg Cassaban, formerly of the Eight Cilidar Lancers. By royal appointment, now a captain of Thonbor."