The tournament day was nearly here, and the sky did not have a cloud. A brisk wind kept it from becoming too muggy or unpleasant. Unfortunately, Relma wore armor, so the wind didn't do her much good. Few things ruined a nice day, like having an inch of steel around your body. And Relma was not the only one. Even now, people signed up, hoping to write their names into history. And Relma was in her armor. Aunt Pan had painted several runes into it as well. These made her appear different.

Relma wasn't sure of the details. But now they were heading toward the large pavilion where the combatants would sign up. There was Davian at the front, with a quill and a book. He was looking very bored.

Ajax got there before them, and Pan pulled Relma behind a tree. She looked at her hard and made eye contact. "Now remember, Relma," said Aunt Pan, "this disguise will help. But you will still have to act the part."

"Why are you letting me do this, Aunt Pan?" asked Relma. "You could stop me if you wanted."

"Elranor's bloodline has a unique trait," said Pan. "They learn weapon skills very quickly. It's like learning to walk for them; you figure it out very quickly once you get past the basics. It was a gift from the Dragon God, Vrengar, I believe.

"I've seen you practicing."

"So you think I stand a chance?" asked Relma.

"No, I think you'll lose and lose badly," said Pandora. "Special traits are no substitute for experience. But you might learn something from it."

"What do you mean you won't let me sign up?" asked Ajax, voice loud.

"This tournament is for knights," said Davian. "Or, in the case of Dust Elves, official representatives of classless societies. You are neither."

"I am the son of one of the most powerful demon lords in Harlenor," snarled Ajax. "That makes my nobility. And I am an official representative."

"Demon Lord is not a title," said Davian, not looking up. "And you are a hostage. The proper paperwork for allowing you to enter has not been filled out."

Ajax looked about to strike him, but he restrained himself. Pandora quickly began making her way toward them. Relma followed behind. This could be bad.

"It bloody well is," said Ajax. "And I don't give a damn about your paperwork."

The man looked straight past him. Did he want to get his throat ripped out? Apparently so, because he pretended as though Ajax was not there. Then again, Davian had never been afraid of anything that Relma had heard of. "Lady Pandora, what may we do for you?"

"Why aren't you allowing him to enter, Davian?" asked Pandora.

"He isn't a knight," said Davian. "And the paperwork has not been filled out."

"Have you considered what it will mean if you deny him entrance?" asked Pandora. "It will be taken as a direct insult to Telix?"

"I'm insulted he couldn't be bothered to fill out the appropriate forms," said Davian.

"Shall I take your response to the Steward?" asked Pandora. "I'm sure he'll look favorably on an insult to one of his most dangerous neighbors."

Davian shifted. He looked to Ajax, Pandora then, leaned back. "I see your point, milady." He offered the ink to Ajax. "You can sign in."

"Thank you," hissed Ajax.

Ajax did not take the quill. Instead, he bit a finger and smeared blood over the section where he would have put his name. Davian picked up the book, looked at it, put it down, then looked up with narrowed eyes. "What is this?"

"That is how we sign our names among my people," said Ajax. "The scent of our blood marks it as our signature."

"This is very irregular," said Davian. "Humans do not have a sense of smell to identify people by scent. It's traditional to use the seal of your house."

"My blood is my seal, you miserable-" began Ajax. He halted and sniffed the air.

"Something wrong, dog?" laughed a voice. "Perhaps you should run back to your mistress?"

Ajax tensed and turned around to see a vast, stubbled man a little older than Relma standing in the line behind them. It was a short line, but the important thing was how Ajax was walking toward the man. Relma knew that there would be blood in a minute.

"Enough," said Davian. "The blood counts as a seal in itself. I doubt any of the other contenders will use such a method. But if someone else marks their name with red liquid, we'll have a problem.

"Just don't start killing people until the tournament. And even then, make it an accident."

Ajax hesitated. Pandora met his gaze, and he nodded. He walked into the pavilion. Relma stepped forward. Davian gave her what might have been a sarcastic look. "Who are you?"

"I am Raleen Artor," said Relma before drawing out a pendant Aunt Pan had given her. It had the symbol of a roaring lion, scaring away wolves. "Here is my seal."

Davian took it and smiled wryly. "This is a symbol I have not seen for a very long time. A very long time indeed. Do you know your history, Raleen?"

"We were a branch house of the royal family long ago," said Relma. "One that was descended from a half-brother of Anoa II, Versinus. He proved himself valorous in battle in the Withering Wars and was awarded nobility." She paused. "Though I don't see why I should have to recite my own history to you.

"Am I a child to be lectured?" Put resentment into the voice.

Davian smiled. "No, of course not. I can see the resemblance. Still, reports suggest that satyrs wiped out the house some years ago."

"An exaggeration," said Relma, remembering her instructions. "We fell into obscurity long ago, but we're hoping to make a comeback."

"Very well, dip it ink this ink and then press it against the page here," said Davian, motioning.

Relma complied and pressed the seal there. "Like this?"

Davian nodded, and she pressed the seal down on the page. Before she could take it off, Davian grabbed her hand. "No, no, keep it there for a moment. You don't want to take it off too quickly, or the ink won't sink in." He took his hand off. "Alright, then you are set. Go on into the pavilion.

"Oh, be careful in there. Sometimes knights can get rowdy."

"Thank you," said Relma. "I'll be very careful."

Within the pavilion, there were a large number of tables and chairs. And more people needed to fill them. Things may fill up later. Relma looked around for Estela and saw her speaking with another. It was Edward De Cathe. Relma hadn't seen him in months.

She made her way up, noting the coat of arms of house Vortegex. A white dragon, coiling over a defeated red. Was there such a thing as a white dragon? Relma had never heard of one. "Princess Estela, is it? I'm Raleen Artor."

Estela looked at her, and Relma knew she had guessed who she was. "Artor? I remember that house. I thought it was wiped out a long time ago."

"An exaggeration," said Relma. "We've fallen from grace a bit." How many times would she have to repeat this?

"Well, Raleen, you are in the wrong place," said Estela, emphasizing the word. "The knights of Gel Carn are over there."

Relma glanced over and saw an empty area. No one had appeared yet. "Why should there be different places?"

"I suppose you think that the three Kingdoms are all one big, happy family, then?" asked Estela.

"No, I just, never mind," said Relma. "So, these are the knights of Escor?" Only two?

"Yes," said Estela. "Over there are the knights of Antion." She pointed to an area with only two people, the man behind her in the line. He seemed to be speaking with another orange-haired man with a slight smirk. Relma hoped they were the first ones in.

"Rather pretentious of them to put themselves as their own Kingdom," said De Cathe suddenly.

"Give them some credit, De Cathe," said Estela. "Gel Carn was the capital of Harlenor United. And they are the hosts."

"I suppose," said De Cathe. "Is there a particular reason you are pretending to be someone you are not, Relma Artorious?"

Relma flinched. "Um, politics. How did you-"

"I knew you by your voice," said De Cathe.

"Right," said Relma. She was going to have to talk with Aunt Pan about this spell. "I haven't seen you since, uh, the not war with Telix."

"Yes," said De Cathe. "After things ended there, I went west to the marshes and fought with the satyrs. Working with the Black Watch was an unpleasant business, but it had to be done. My comrades and I saved a village, though we lost a few of our number.

"Not that Lord Anias had much regard for our sacrifice. He denied us payment on a technicality."

"I'm sorry to hear it," said Relma. "Then, the satyrs are resurging?"

De Cathe smiled. Suddenly Relma felt sorry for the satyrs. "Not anymore. I believe they sensed weakness with the coming war and chose to start raiding again. We convinced them otherwise.

The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"My congratulations on the drawing of the blade, by the way. Where is it?"

"Oh, it's here," said Relma, touching her blade. "In disguise. Just don't tell anyone who I am."

"Of course," said De Cathe. "I shall remain wholly silent."

Relma shifted. "So, where are the knights of Haldren?"

"The knight of Haldren is there," said De Cathe, pointing to another part.

Relma didn't see anyone for a moment. Then, eventually, she noticed a tall man sitting cross-legged in a corner. He had a sheathed blade over his knees. His shield bore the emblem of a Golden Cobra, coiled to strike on a red background. She must have missed him before.

"Only one?" asked Relma.

"Yes. Varsus. He's a nephew of Duke Vanion Gabriel." said Estela. "He came here with a knight of Antion, Reginald De Chevlon. Actually, he had a large company of guards. But he insists on being sorted with the knights of Haldren."

"Why aren't you there anymore?" asked Relma.

"Haldren is a long way off," said De Cathe. "They are much nearer to the wars, so most of the knights who want to prove themselves went to Artarq. Also, King Gavin doesn't acknowledge Gel Carn as legitimate."

"I know that," said Relma. It had been part of her lessons. "But you'd think someone else would have come."

"It is still early in the day," noted Estela.

Wait a minute, where was Ajax? Relma looked around and eventually saw him lying on his back beneath several chairs. His hands were clasped, and he seemed to be thinking. He probably didn't realize how eccentric he looked.

"So," said Relma, "is it true that women in Antion aren't allowed to be knights?"

"Yes," said De Cathe. "They are expected to take up tasks more associated with peace than war. King Andoa II pushed through one of the reforms in his younger days."

"Good thing for you; it hasn't spread to Gel Carn yet," said Estela.

"Right," said Relma, "do you mind if I wait with you until the others arrive?"

"It's no trouble," said Estela.

The others were few and far between in arriving. One who came was a small, dust-elven man. But he wore a sword nearly as large as he was tall on his back. A bow was also on his back. He made his way into the Antion section and sat down across from the others. The big man Relma had seen mocking Ajax said something to him, but either he did not hear or he did not care.

"Who is that?" asked Relma.

"That is Garrick Estov, I believe," said De Cathe. "He's a Knight of the Coin. They're a mercenary company based on Sorn. Though the order has a somewhat religious aspect to it as well, and none of them are actually knights."

"How can none of them be knights?" asked Relma.

"They don't have classes in Sorn," said De Cathe. "Not since the revolution. They are ruled by merchants and money, rather than Lords and ideals."

"Right," said Relma. She shifted. "Where is Sir Frederick? I was looking forward to meeting him and Ronald?"

"I don't know," admitted De Cathe.

"This has been a very small number of knights," noted Estela. "Shouldn't there be more?"

"The Steward is lucky he got this many," said De Cathe. "Most of the knights who would come to such an event would be from Antion. Escor is too chaotic for a man to leave his lands for long. And Haldren is otherwise engaged. Besides, the roads in Gel Carn aren't any good.

"Anoa II made them well. But he ruled a long time ago. As a result, they've fallen into disrepair. So journeying through Southern Antion is difficult."

"Someone ought to repair them, then, shouldn't they?" asked Relma. "Wouldn't that be a better use than tournaments?"

"Do you think the lords in those regions would let it happen?" asked Estela. "Benarus doesn't rule Southern Antion. He rules Gel Carn. If it weren't for all the pilgrims from Estal, this place wouldn't be nearly as important as it is.

"No offense."

"I hope that Benarus expected a small group," said De Cathe, "and prepared for a large one. Otherwise, he is due for some disappointment."

Relma was drawn away from the conversation to see a black knight entering the pavilion. They had a massive poleaxe on their back, and their helmet concealed their face. They glanced at Relma, then walked on past.

Then Relma shuddered. She had a feeling, suddenly, that someone significant was on the threshold. She dreaded them, feeling a sort of primal enmity.

Peering out the tent flap to the pavilion, she saw Davian facing down three figures. The first was a very tall individual. He was clad in white and black armor with a faceplate shaped like a skull. Two glowing green lights could be seen from the eye holes. A pure black sword was at his side, and a round shield was on his back. Yet beneath his crimson cloak, Relma also caught sight of a golden harp. Moreover, his shield was decorated with the same golden cobra as Varsus.

Beside him was a hulking chimera. It had three heads a golden lion, a white goat, and a black dragon. The lion's head was licking its chops and regarded the people around them with hunger. However, the armored figure scratched behind its goat ears, and it relaxed.

Finally, there was a boy. He was tall and thin, though not as tall as the armored figure. His skin was darker than anyone Relma had seen, and his hair was black as night. He had red eyes, pupils thinner than usual, and wore a black cloak.

"Is this the sign-in area for the Tournament of Kings?" asked the armored figure, his voice a horrible rasp.

"It is," said Davian.

"So be it," said the man. "I intend to enter."

"That is William Gabriel," said Estela.

"He certainly makes an entrance," said Relma as they walked away from the flap.

William Gabriel entered with the chimera and the Calishan following in his footsteps. Relma watched as he approached Varsus and stood across from him. Varsus looked up.

"Varsus? It's been years since we last saw each other," said William.

Relma flinched. The contrast between the voice and the words was disturbing. Varsus stood up and looked him over. "You have grown. What injury caused your voice to change so."

"Oh, this," said William. "Hold on." He drew off his helmet and put it under one arm. Then he spoke. "The helmet is enchanted to make me more intimidating." His voice was now normal, a proud baritone, but without the unholy rasp.

"The glowing green eyes certainly manage that," said Varsus, smiling a bit. "I wonder if you did not overdo it."

"It was a gift from Rusara," said William. "I didn't want to offend her."

Varsus looked at him. "That scar... how did you get it?"

What scar? Relma couldn't see it.

"I was slashed across the eye by a demoness," said William. "It is a bit of a long story. I'm glad to see you again."

They embraced warmly, then broke apart. "As am I," said Varsus. "You were six, I believe, when last I met you. You've picked up strange company." His eyes looked warily to the Calishan, and Relma's sense of dread returned.

"Oh, Felix is quite loyal and reliable," said William. "You don't need to fear him. We've been stopping to heal every village we come across throughout our journey. If he were going to betray me, he'd have done it long ago." He had been looking for an excuse to mention healing people, hadn't he?

Varsus shifted. "...You'll forgive me, cousin. But I was not expecting you here. Duke Vanion gave me leave to represent House Gabriel."

"And ordinarily, I'd leave it to you," said William. "Unfortunately, I have to fill in for Raynald. He wanted to come here, but he's needed as a general in Khasmir. There are still raishans about. So he wanted at least one of his students to appear.

"I wanted Tanith to go, but it turns out she had a disagreement with the local lords. So that left only me. Mother also wanted to go, but, well, my new siblings need her."

So he was friends with Tanith. That spoke severely about his character. But he didn't seem like a bad person.

"At any rate, there was another reason for me coming down this way," said William. "Father wanted me to deliver some news to Brisgald personally. Auga is to be granted the position of Lord of Carn Gable."

"Auga?" asked Varsus. "I was under the impression that Uncle was keeping Carn Gable for himself."

"He was ruling it through Mother," said William. "But now that the entire family is focused on Artarq, he's decided to make the move official. We need someone over in Carn Gable; we can trust to rule it.

"Auga is smart and capable. We would have chosen you, but you're the heir to Brisgald."

"No offense is taken," said Varsus. "I prefer warmer climates anyway. And my younger sister is well suited for the task." That got a laugh from both of them. "How did Vorn take it?"

"Badly," said William. "He shouted and yelled about being passed over."

"That sounds like him," said Varsus. "Still, Uncle has always assigned positions on merit. And Vorn has little of that." He paused for a moment. "I hope you don't expect an easy victory in the tournament, William."

"Far from it," said William. "Truth be told, I don't even expect to win. I'm a good swordsman, but it's never been my best skill."

Relma turned her attention to the calishan boy. The boy, Felix, glanced up, and their eyes met. Although she did not know him, she felt like she did. Her gaze met his, and something was passing between them. Relma tried to keep steady beneath his red-eyed gaze, but it was all she could do not to look away.

Don't show weakness, said part of her.

And then the contest was broken. The chimera rubbed against Felix from behind, and the boy looked down to scratch her behind the ears.

Relma returned to the flap and saw no sign of Frederick. Davian was just sitting there. Relma looked to Estela. "If Frederick doesn't arrive in time, what then?"

"Then he doesn't enter," said Estela. "Not today, anyway. Raleen."

At that moment, Davian stood. "If anyone remains who wish to sign into the tournament, come forward now. The office is now closing for the day."

"Come on," said Relma.

"Set down my name, sir!" said a voice.

At that moment, Frederick and Ronald rode into sight upon the backs of wolves. The halflings wore dented armor but were no less magnificent as they dismounted. Relma almost ran to greet them.

"Remember, you're supposed to not know them," said Ajax.

"Oh right, thank you, Ajax," said Relma.

Frederick and Ronald entered, and Relma resisted the urge to go greet them. She didn't know them. Don't introduce yourself here; Ronald might say your name.

"Sir Frederick, we were afraid you would not make it in time," said De Cathe. "This tournament would not have been the same without you here."

"What, this fool?" scoffed the man who had mocked Ajax. "You expect us to face this red-faced fatling?

"This is pathetic. First, Gel Carn lets in an animal, and now one of the dirt farmers pretending to be a knight. They really have let their standards fall."

Frederick stiffened. "I should cut your throat, sir. But I shall save the matter for the tournament."

"Am I supposed to be impressed?" sneered the man.

The orange-haired man shifted. "To think I was concerned to be filling in for Raynald here."

"Don't bring up that withered carcass to me, Reginald," said the man who had mocked Ajax.

"Withered carcass?!" asked William. Then he put on his helm and grasped his sword in a fury.

For a moment, Relma thought there would be a fight. But Varsus caught him by the hand. "Calm yourself, cousin. There is nothing to be gained through bluster here."

Davian then walked in. "I see you've started things in record time. Well, a smaller group than we hoped for. But not smaller than we expected. And there are plenty of others in the other areas of the tournament.

"Gather around, and I will tell you the basic rules."

Reluctantly they did so. "Each of you is here to prove your courage before the crowds of Gel Carn. Of course, your motives vary, but all of you will have the chance to win the prize—ten thousand silver.

"Enough to hire a fleet of ships. To purchase virtually anything your heart desires. Or, better still, to make sensible investments in the business. What you desire to do with the coin is your own choice.

"But first, you must win it.

"The matches will each be held in the public tourney in the days leading up to the final event. There will also be other tournaments: archery contests, axe throwing, and jousting. You are free to enter any of these, should you so choose. And winning them will make your prize greater still.

"Bear in mind that there is great danger here. If one of you should be killed in the fighting, it will be considered the end result of a legal duel. You risk your life.

"However, this does not mean this is a blood sport. Accidents are allowed. Deliberate killing blows are not. Should your opponent be defeated, you are forbidden from killing them. If an opponent says, 'I forfeit' the fight is over. Any further attacks will be illegal and subject to judgment by Steward Benarus.

"Likewise, if it is judged that the killing was deliberate, you will suffer the consequence.

"The events will officially begin three days from now at midday. Be here by then. If you fail to arrive for your match, you forfeit. With those rules out of the way, food has been prepared to welcome you." He motioned. "Follow me."

"So, who do you think will win this one?" asked Relma.

"I'm not going to hazard a guess," said Estela.

Relma wanted more information on this, Felix. There was something odd about him. And since he was always in the shadow of his master, logically, she should try following William.

This couldn't end badly.