It was a reunion Relma had wanted for a long time now.

Of course, she had to leap some fences to get it, even at this stage. She'd eat a lovely meal with the other contestants though that man from before kept making snide remarks. Reginald seemed embarrassed by him and tried to reign him in but in a friendly way. He eventually distracted him by turning the subject to women. Their conversation turned to several 'conquests.' Garrick made conversation with Varsus about the problem of piracy in the Sea of Power. Frederick spoke at length with De Cathe and Estela, speaking of the wars in Escor.

It seemed as if everyone was at war. And nobody could imagine a world where they weren't. It troubled Relma.

The chimera had continually brushed up against William as he spoke with Felix. The two boys seemed to be arguing, but she couldn't make it out. Relma noted that William spoke to Felix almost as an equal. Just what kind of servant was he?

And how had he even got in here? Relma supposed there was no rule against pets, but Ronald had been told to wait outside. Then again, nobody seemed to even notice Felix except her. The chimera became increasingly insistent, and even an offer of meat did not get her to stop. Finally, William stood up and slipped out. Felix and the chimera followed.

Eventually, William slipped out, and Relma took this as her cue to leave. She walked out after him and quickly got out of her armor before fitting it into a bag she'd taken with her. Then, slipping out, she began to follow them; she ran into Ronald.

That was the reunion, and she forgot at once her pursuit, got to her knees, and hugged him. Then, of course, her bag full of armor bumped him, and he winced in pain.

"Sorry," said Relma, quickly healing the bruise.

"What's in there?" asked Ronald.

"Just some stuff I'm carrying," said Relma. "Ronald, it's been months."

"Sorry I couldn't meet you earlier; Sir Frederick wanted me to get the wolves denned after our entrance," said Ronald. "Did you see it?" The halfling boy's voice was hopeful.

"You mean riding up to the tent at the last minute?" asked Relma. "Yes. Why the entrance anyway?"

"Well, he wanted to appear fashionably late," said Ronald. "Sir Frederick says it helps to appear impressive when you want to negotiate.

"So, what are you doing?"

"Oh, um, I'm following William Gabriel," said Relma. "One of the contestants in the tournament. Do you want to go with me?"

Ronald followed after her but seemed a bit concerned. "So we finally meet again after months, and the first thing you want to do is stalk one of your enemies?"

"I'm not stalking him, okay. I just heard he has a scar, but he put the helm back on before I could see it," said Relma. "And he isn't my enemy."

"He's a political rival," said Ronald. "Duke Vanion is one of the most powerful men in Antion of Haldren. Some people say he plans to become a King himself. He can't do that if you or one of your descendants reunited Harlenor, can he?" He paused.

Relma looked at him. "Ronald, I've never heard you talk about things this way. Did something happen?"

"During the fighting with the Calishans, I saw things," said Ronald. "It isn't anything like in the stories Relma. I'm glad we stopped that war. All the demons in the world can keep on living if it means not having a war.

"And I saw the kind of people Duke Vanion employs."

"What do you mean?" asked Relma.

"When the order went out for the Calishans to be spared, there was a lot of anger," said Ronald. "I remember I saw men raging about how they were supposed not to kill the captured prisoners. They wanted to take their weapons and equipment, and Duke Vanion denied them that.

"A lot of the knights of Harlenor... they aren't good people, Relma. And yet they are afraid of Vanion."

"Afraid?" asked Relma. "Why?"

"I don't know," said Ronald. "That's what scares me. As far as I saw, he followed all the rules of war. He was very reasonable and merciful.

"But I saw hardened killers stop when someone mentioned Vanion wouldn't like it. My dad had a saying, "Don't be afraid of the snake you can see. You can do something about it. It's the one you can't see that is the real threat.'" He paused. "Still, I'll walk with you."

They made their way through the town as quickly as they could. Relma used some minor spells Aunt Pan had taught her to track William. As they walked, Ronald looked ill at ease. "What does his scar have to do with anything?"

"Well, Estela said that Melchious had a similar scar," said Relma.

"Are you saying Melchious and William Gabriel are the same people?" asked Ronald.

Relma stared at him. "No, I just-" Then she heard a harp sound. The music was sweet and beautiful. Relma had never heard anything so nice. "I hear music."

They followed it and soon came to a corner. Standing around it, they saw William sitting on a bench, playing hard with ungloved hands. His helm was still on his face. Felix was nowhere to be seen, but the chimera was lying belly up at his feet, basking in the sun.

"Is that a chimera?" asked Ronald.

"He has a pet chimera," said Relma. "Didn't you see it before?"

"No," said Ronald. "I haven't even seen him. Estela and I were in different battles."

"I think you're asking the wrong questions," said Felix.

Relma turned around with a shriek and saw the calishan boy emerging from the shadows. His eyes were narrowed. "If you want to ask questions of my master, you might just approach him normally."

"Who... how did you get there?" asked Ronald.

"I walked," said Felix, smiling.

"I know, but... I didn't even notice you," said Ronald.

"Not being seen is one of my primary assets," said Felix. "I am Felix, the valet of William Gabriel. We've been aware of your clumsy attempts at stealth for some time. If you try and pry information from us, we'd appreciate it if you were less obvious about it."

"Right, um, I'm going to go talk to him then," said Relma.

She walked toward William, who had yet to stop playing. As she approached, he ceased his harping and put the instrument down. From there, he removed the helmet, and Relma saw the scar. It was long and ugly and went from his forehead to the middle of one of his cheeks. Whatever had done, it had missed the eye, but it marred his features.

Features that were very similar to Anoa's. The resemblance was uncanny.

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"Yes?" asked William.

"So, um, what's his name?" asked Relma, looking to the chimera.

"She is named Massacre," said William. "I made the same mistake, actually. All chimeras have manes."

"So, uh, how did you meet?" asked Relma.

"Well, Felix and I slipped into her cave while running away from satyrs," said William. "When our pursuers started a fire outside, the smoke woke her, and she ate them. Then she tried to eat us, but I calmed her down with music."

"So she likes music then?" asked Relma.

"Yes. I'm not sure if it is all chimeras or just her," admitted William.

"You know, Ronald and I got chased into a cave once," said Relma. "Though we were running from Aunt Pan, not satyrs."

He blinked. "You mean Pandora the Sorceress?"

"Yes," said Relma.

William stood up. "Hmm, interesting. You would be the Heir of Kings then?"

"You've heard of me all the way in Artarq?" asked Relma, hopefully.

"Not really," admitted William. "Tanith mentioned you in passing, and I learned more as I made my way down here. She described you as, uh..." He raised a hand to his temple in thought. "What was it, Felix?"

"A weak-willed, spineless puppet of sorcerers. Incapable of any worthwhile achievement, she is doomed to be a figurehead. One swiftly cut down." said Felix. "Or something to that effect."

"It was very impolite, and I don't mean to take her word as automatic truth," said William.

"...That's a bit more flowery than I thought Tanith capable," said Relma.

"Carn Gable is one of the greatest libraries in Haldren. She was educated there alongside me," said William. "She is knowledgeable. She just prefers to focus on more martial pursuits. Also, she was drunk, so she wasn't herself."

Relma shifted in irritation. And then something occurred to her. "Wait, so nobody is talking about Lightning Trail being drawn?"

William blinked. "Should we be? Harlenor won't be reunited because someone drew a sword from the sky. The vast majority of conquerers fail. Their dream of a unified Harlenor usually conflicts with another dream. That of the many feuding nobles who want a disunified Harlenor. Even if they would never admit it."

"Well then, what would unite Harlenor?" asked Relma, curious.

William considered things. "...Well, the sword could have worked if an overbearing threat might destroy all Three Kingdoms. Then you might convince them to call a truce and support the man who drew it.

"Enlightened self-interest would allow the creation of a figurehead. Then, if he proved strong in war and a good administrator, he might well consolidate control. That, I suspect, is how Anoa the Bright managed it."

"What makes you so sure?" asked Relma. What did he know about Anoa the Bright?

"I read history," said William. "Things tend to go in cycles, and once you read enough, you begin to notice the patterns."

Relma decided to change the subject. "So why did you enter the Tournament of Kings?

"As I said when you were eavesdropping, I am acting in Raynald's stead," said William. "But in all honesty, I was hoping to meet you."

Relma paused. "Me? Why?"

William looked at her. "Isn't it obvious? You drew Lightning Trail. You also have the support of Gail Arengeth and Pandora. And you have several major accomplishments. Given that Benarus dislikes his current heir, he may cede control to you to spite her. In so doing, he would satisfy both his families' oath and ensure the succession of the realm."

"Wow, you figured all that out yourself?" asked Relma.

"Thank you for confirming my suspicions. And no, I didn't," said William. "Felix did, though Father probably suspects as much himself. Either way, I wanted to know what kind of person you were. We could end up being political enemies in the future."

Massacre stood up and peered at her intently. The lion head licked its chops.

"Bah," said the goat.

"Erm, I'd rather avoid that," said Relma.

William shrugged. "Then feel free to renounce your claim to the throne of Harlenor Reunited. Do that, and you don't have to worry about politics. Otherwise, you should expect to make many enemies."

Relma was surprised at how candid he was about this. He was a very strange person. "So you went through Brisgald on your way here, correct?"

"Yes," said William.

"What's it like?" asked Relma. She'd heard a lot of stories about Brisgald, the impregnable fortress. It had never been taken. In the days of the elves, a great host of fifty thousand satyrs was said to have besieged it. That had been a host supported by dragons. Generations had passed seeking a way through.

And in the end, the siege failed.

Or so the legends said. However, Relma had her doubts about them being truthful. At the very least, they were exaggerated.

"Quite nice since Duke Borinius was dethroned," said William. "Uncle has continued setting things to the right where Father left off. The villagers are quite happy with House Gabriel in control."

"Why?" asked Relma, hoping to take him off guard.

"We lowered taxes," said William. "Borinius taxed them to the hilt, so many starved on bad years. We had to conduct ourselves as something resembling decent human beings. Thus we became known as benevolent lords out of legend.

"It was all very depressing."

"Isn't that where Duke Vanion made his pact with Melchious?" asked Relma.

William stiffened. "It wasn't a pact. It was a deal."

Relma met his gaze. He looked back. "What is the difference between a pact and a deal?"

William scoffed. "Don't display your ignorance, Relma. The technical definition is irrelevant. My father made a deal with Melchious, then had second thoughts at the last minute. So he changed his plan, found out Borinius was guilty of treason, and exposed the plot.

"Much good came from his actions, and Melchious got nothing in return. Father didn't even owe him anything by the terms of the arrangement."

"Well, what have we here?" asked a voice. "Some beardless boys playing at being knights?"

And here they went. Relma turned around and saw a large, stubbled man with a bald head. He was a brute who'd mocked Ajax, just out of armor. He was staggering as if drunk. With him was Reginald, who was following slowly behind, looking resigned. Massacre arose to her feet and growled.

"Stay your hand, Massacre," said William. "He isn't worth it."

"I can't believe that this tournament has allowed a girl and a harping child into this tournament?" said the brute.

"We ought to just let this go, Ham," said Reginald.

"Or what? This damn... Gabriel, wouldn't dare..." He seemed to lose his train of thought and put one hand on his sword. "I don't... I don't like the way they look at me."

"Tell me, is there a particular reason you are bothering me?" asked William. "Don't you have any better uses for your time than harassing someone with a chimera for a friend?"

"You think I'm afraid of that thing? Cause I'm not," choked Ham.

"Fear is a natural state of being experienced in response to danger," said William. "Overcoming it is courage. Eventually, you do not feel it at all, however. You have my sincerest condolences on your lack of intellect.

"You must be a very well-trained monkey."

"Say that again with a blade in your hand!" snarled Ham. And he began to draw his sword.

At once, Reginald stepped between them. "Wait, wait, wait, we can't do this!"

"Oh, I think we can," said William, a slight smile on his face. His hand was on his sword. "I've no objection to cutting down a Hawkthorne after my trip."

"Didn't you people read the rules?" asked Reginald. "Fighting outside of the ring is strictly forbidden. So if either of you strikes the other down now, you'll be thrown out and get nothing but a reputation as a thug. Win in the ring, though, and you'll get renown and be on your way to winning riches!"

William paused, then nodded. "...Fair enough."

"I'll..." Ham motioned with one finger. "I'll see you in the ring." His voice was slurred.

"Come on, Ham," said Reginald. "You're making a fool of us."

As Reginald led the man away, William sat back down. "I sincerely doubt I'll face that man anywhere. I have a one-in-nine chance, and he won't make it past the first round. His stance is sloppy."

"Don't you remember the roadside?" asked Felix. "He killed an entire caravan of armored men and freed their prisoners. Don't be too quick to underestimate him. Ham is not to be underestimated."

"If he intends to remain perpetually drunk, I have no reason to fear him," said William.

"You were pretty calm for someone about to kill someone," said Relma. And he had been about to kill him. If that chimera had leaped, Ham would have been ripped to shreds. So what had happened on the journey to make William so quick to kill a Hawkthorne? Granted, they had a pretty reputation.

"Control is essential," said William, pulling on a gauntlet. "As long as you have a clear mind and think rationally, you can find the path to victory. Lose control for a minute, though, and everything falls apart." He pulled on the other one.

"Does this rational mind of yours tell you to pick fights?" asked Relma. "You provoked him. He was drunk."

"Bah," said Massacre.

"Yes, Massacre, we know you wanted to eat him," said William, scratching her behind the ears. "Maybe next time. To answer your question, I would not disgrace my house by yielding ground to Sir Ham Hawkthorne."

"Hawkthorne?" asked Relma.

"Yes, the nephew of a fat noble known for never seeing combat," said William. "Baron Vladimir Hawkethorne. Among other things. He does business in whorehouses, and rarely pays his debts. He deals with criminals and vampires to achieve his goals."

"So you try to keep a rational and clear mind except when your pride demands otherwise?" guessed Relma. "How convenient."

William bowed dramatically and flourished his cape. "Welcome to the nobility, Relma Artorious." Then he put back on his helmet, and his voice was like death. "I hope you'll enjoy your stay."