Thomas stands before the king, looking determined but nervous. Fenella stands beside him, holding his hand.
“Your Majesty, I come before you to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.”
The king makes a skeptical expression. “You are from a commoner family, Thomas. I cannot allow my daughter to marry beneath her status.”
“But Father! Thomas is an accomplished knight, respected by many in the kingdom. His achievements speak for themselves. That is why you chose him as a knight.”
The king shakes his head. “My dear, although I did choose him to be a knight in my personal guard, I simply cannot accept him as a son in law.
Thomas has a gaze full of determination. “Your Majesty, I am willing to do whatever it takes to win your approval. Besides my origins which cannot be changed, what must I do?”
“You will have to be the best knight in the kingdom, without a shred of doubt in the minds of the people, and in my mind. Perhaps if you defeat all other knights in duels. Only then will I consider allowing you to marry my daughter.” The king chuckles to himself, thinking he has given an impossible task.
Thomas looks surprised but resolute. “I will do it, Your Majesty.”
“Are you sure,” the king raises an eyebrow. “You may be struck down by a rival. I would hate to lose a competent knight.”
“I thank you for your concern.”
Fenella gives Thomas a supportive look as he turns to leave the throne room.
The king thinks to himself, ‘Perhaps it is time to rethink my view on commoners…’
The next day, Thomas is standing at the gates to the castle courtyard, where the knights would usually train. He is waiting there for a certain person to show up, with Fenella standing nearby. She was present to help officialize any of his duels. She was a royal witness, after all. The sun was rising in the distance. Soon, another knight approached. His red cape stood out like hot iron in a dark workshop. It was a truly brilliant color.
“Sir Edmond.” Thomas bows.
“Sir Thomas, good morn. Have you come to challenge me to a duel?”
“You know why I am here?”
“Yes, of course. News about the king’s offer has spread through the most pertinent circles.”
“I see.”
Sir Edmond unbuttons the cape around his neck and hands it to his apprentice. “Shall we?” He lifts his sword.
Princess Fenella waves a flag. The match starts.
Ting. Ting. Ting. Thwack!
Ting. Ting. Ting. Ting. Thwack!
The two knights fought for almost four minutes, then rested, then fought again for another four. Even with wooden swords, the two knights tore their silk shirts and bruised each other. Finally, Sir Edmond collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily.
“As expected, Sir Thomas. I am no match for you. If this were real, I would have died many times over, each of them sooner than you.”
“You are not disheartened at this?”
“Of course not! I have known you for many years as we both trained to become knights. You are better than me and I am glad to have you on my side.”
“Thank you for your kind words.”
“I’m sure you will make a fine husband.”
Thomas continues challenging the other prominent knights all day and into the next. Then another knight arrives. This one has a black cape, darker than the moonless night. His hair is disheveled.
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“Sir, Reynard. I wish to challenge you to a duel.”
The knight turned with a mischievous smile to face him. “Oh really? I have heard news of the king’s proposal, but I never thought you were stupid enough to take it.”
“Do you decline?”
“I will not.” Reynard smiles. “However, as I am the one being challenged, I am free to set the conditions of the duel, yes?”
“You do.” Princess Fenella nods, suddenly worried. “Within reason.”
“Of course, of course, always within reason, as close to the edge of reason as I can get.” He laughs. “So how about we do this…”
From his bag, he pulls out two goblets.
“I am not as proficient as you are in the art of the sword, sadly. However, when it comes to things such as this, I excel. See here,” He pointed at the goblets. “Death in one, life in the other. Let us fill them both with wine and then drink at once. If you live, you win the duel.”
Princess Fenella makes a horrified expression. Up until now, none of the knights have actually tried to kill Thomas.
“Do you have no honor? How can you fight with something as underhanded as poison, rather than a sword?” Princess Fenella asks.
“Princess, in war there is no such thing as a fair fight. When the enemy approaches you, it is kill or be killed. You may use any tactic at your disposal, even underhanded ones, and you can expect your enemy to do the same. You may have to fight many men at once, but there are only two goblets now. I think I am being quite fair.” Reynard raised his hands in exasperation. “But you are also right! This is not completely fair for a duel. There is no opportunity to yield once you have consumed your cup, as there is with a sword, so instead I will let Thomas rescind his challenge now… if he desires?”
Fenella turns. “Don’t do this, Thomas. This knight is clearly insane.”
“I must accept this duel.”
“The odds are not in your favor. He might have some kind of trick, such as magic that can make him immune to poison. Both goblets might kill you!”
“Fenella, ease your worry. This man is my rival, but also my friend.”
Then Thomas takes a seat and looks at the goblets. One of them seems to be filled a little more than the other, a slight difference that makes his stomach churn. Fenella notices too. Is it because Reynard poured more by accident? Is the one with more wine the one that has the poison? Or is it the second goblet, and Reynard poured less wine to make it look like poison could be in the other one, forcing Thomas to choose the second?”
Thomas quickly chooses the goblet that is more full. Reynard takes the other one with a confident expression. “Oh, would you like to switch, perhaps?”
Fenella almost ordered Thomas to drop the goblet.
“No. This one is correct.”
“So be it.” Reynard raises his glass. “To your good health, and a long lasting marriage with your sweetheart.”
They toast and drink their glasses at the same time.
After a while, nothing happens. Neither Thomas, nor Reynard die from poison.
“Well, I did say that if you live, you win. I guess you win this one, Thomas.” Then he laughs.
Fenella is shocked. “You didn’t poison either of the goblets?!”
Reynard laughed harder. “Your face is priceless! Worth every ounce of honor spent. Thomas, she actually thought I wanted to kill you!”
Thomas gave an exasperated sigh. “You almost had me, as well, you know. There really was no poison?”
“Poison is in everything, everywhere, my friend. Anything is harmful in large amounts. I guess you just didn’t put enough wine in your goblet to kill you!”
“Twisting your words and the truth to your advantage. How dishonorable.” Fenella makes a sour face.
“Yes. But your future husband, Thomas, showed much honor by going into a duel he is not certain about winning. Very brave and very stupid of him, as always. Please take care of him when I’m not there.”
Fenella blushes.
Thomas challenges the knights after that and defeats all of them. However, each of his opponents lose with grace, not holding a grudge against him for anything, for they all know Thomas by name, proof of their friendship. Finally, Thomas only has one last knight to challenge.
A large crowd has gathered around the arena to witness this final fight, and many people are cheering Thomas’ name. There was a butcher who knew Thomas when he was younger. Then there was the entire kitchen staff who he always delivered firewood to. Everywhere one looked were people who knew him.
Thomas steps up to the challenge, and the crowd of people cheer for his victory!
By this point, the king knows his bet is about to be lost. While he is still somewhat reluctant to marry his daughter off to him, he also can not go back on his word when everyone in Brigadoon knew what he had said. No one would easily trust a king with a forked tongue. As such, he nods with contentment, planning to keep his promise.
“The victor is Sir Thomas!” the announcer says after Thomas defeats the last knight, Sir Cedric.
‘So he is!’ The king stands.
The king announces, “Sir Thomas is the strongest knight in all of Brigadoon, capable of defeating all the other knights. Furthermore, he is beloved by his people, more so than most of noble birth. As such, I award Sir Thomas with the title of Right Knight, a man of upstanding character and dedication. With this title, he will even be able to marry my daughter, Fenella. He is the right one for her.”
The crowd roared with applause.
That evening, Brigadoon throws a party to celebrate his victory and his engagement to Fenella, and plans for the wedding are set to happen in one month.
The ballroom is adorned with elegant decorations and filled with music and laughter. Fenella, wearing a beautiful gown, approaches Thomas, who stands slightly awkwardly amidst the dancing couples.
Fenella smiles, “Thomas, would you like to dance?”
However, he hesitates.