Kichi tied the rope around her legs and copied Whitebeard’s knot. It was a strange custom, but he said it was expected that gatherings of kights would do so in the presence of high lords. It restricted movement to a shuffle, but most of those in the hall remained seated at the rows of tables, and only servants drifted here and there.
The Duke sat at a table just below the high seat, but he might as well have been sitting in it, for he dominated the hall. He emanated strength in his frame and demeanor, an intense-eyed, balding man with shoulder-length hair as dark as his son’s.
The owl-eyed advisor she recognized from the invitation stood beside the high seat of the Duke and addressed the audience. “May I present His Grace with the knightly orders? Of the twelve, four join us. They have traveled from the Mystic Realm, the Desert Realm, and the West Realm. They are comprised of the most gallant warriors. They uphold the principles of the realm. They are the Marstonic Order, Order of the Arc, Order of Lords, and the Celestial Order.”
The Duke stood and cast his gaze around the room, snagging on faces that he must have recognized. “Some have called these tournaments bloody and reckless. But these voices come from objectors who must not read history. The realm will keep a sharp edge, and it’s my duty to provide the whetstone for you to hone yourself to a deadly edge. Some of you will die, but your sacrifice will secure our place in the world. Welcome to my home. Welcome to this contest. May the strongest knight prevail.”
There was a raucous round of applause, thumping of tables, and raising of drinks.
Kichi looked at her utensils and asked Whitebeard, “When do they feed us?”
“After they strut and show off like peacocks, they’ll bring what they’d taken from the city.”
A man in a white tabard with a red triangle stood. “The Celestials appreciate the chance to fight in your tournament.”
A woman in a blue dress held up her wine. “The Lords as well.”
A short girl with a purple cape raised her voice to be heard. “Our knight captain is absent. So, the Order of the Arc will be represented by its grandmaster. I will be here only as a witness.”
Kichi whispered, “Who is she?”
Masahide, seated on the other side of Whitebeard, leaned closer. “She’s their grandmaster.”
“She looks as young as me or younger.”
“Appearances deceive. I don’t know how old Hisa is, but she shot up the ranks and took over in only a few years.”
A blonde knight wiped the foam from her mouth and turned to Kichi. “Hisa may be the strongest grandmaster of them all. She rejects everyone who wants to spar, but we’ve seen her take down monsters, and it’s amazing.”
Masahide nodded to her words and waved away a servant offering him wine. Then he glanced at Whitebeard. “I don’t think she’s the strongest. I’ve witnessed overwhelming strength.”
“The Marstonic Order!” The yell came from a man in black who held out his goblet. “Will win again, as we’ve done the last seven tourneys. But here’s to any of you proving me wrong.”
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A few claps sounded in the hall, but evidently, the Marstonics weren’t popular.
Duke Akitomo drank. “It’s a pleasure to have Marstonic as my guest. This spirit is how the realm remains strong. Many would stop the tournament to grieve after today’s tragedy, but a man can always make more sons. I will be offering double the typical prize, so good luck to all of you.”
The Duke’s advisor bent to his ear and said something as he refilled the high lord's wine.
“We have unexpected guests,” The Duke said. “I’d very much like to hear from them.”
Whitebeard spoke so softly to Masahide that Kichi almost couldn’t hear. “You know what to say.”
Masahide scooted his chair back and stood. “I am Knight Masahide, and though I haven’t yet earned the title archknight, I’m allowed a squire. Lord Akisane also knows her as my sister, which is an uncommon association but not unheard of. This is Squire Kichi, and we will do our best to represent Mount Templar.”
The Duke held his goblet for a refill. “A brother and sister knight and squire, how interesting.”
Masahide gave Whitebeard a sideways glance and whispered. “Did you purposely make that hard on me?”
“Of course not. People are more inclined to believe odd tales.”
The Duke held an unpleasant gaze on the table, but Kichi noticed it wasn’t aimed at her. He took a drink and accepted a plate of food. Finally, he said, “And you?”
Whitebeard rose, standing impressive with his looming height. “I am Sada of Gilgash.” There were gasps around the room. “I am the last of the Dragon Order.”
The room exploded with shouts and raps on tabletops. The noise rose to a crescendo.
“Silence!” The Duke bellowed, standing to stare at each table. When it settled to a murmur, he said, “I remember the Dragon Order when I was a boy. It disappeared so long ago, but you claim to belong to the thirteenth order of knights who left the realm in quest of the Grail.”
“Yes.”
“Let’s pretend I accept your claim; why do you come back now?”
“I never meant to return. I sailed for scores of years to places uncharted, unimaginable, but I eventually ended on the opposite side of the realm from whence I departed.”
“And you come to my castle for the draining ritual.” The Duke’s words caused a disturbance to ripple through his guests.
“It’s a tradition that we upheld in my time. I am here, and my order is not.”
The Duke seemed to bore into the soloknight. His jaw worked as he regarded the man. “When do you want my sorcerer’s service?”
“I would like to watch the tournament. I’ve heard that I’ll lose my life, go mad, or lose my wits, and I’d like to have one last look at my King’s sport. And, if your guests would suffer it, I’d like to tell my tale after each game so my adventures will not have all been in vain.”
“Masahide,” The Duke said, “I’ve heard of you. Do you vouch for this man? Normally, I’d demand more proof on such an extraordinary claim, but he condemned himself already, so I don’t think he’s lying. I know you’ve taken the oath.”
Masahide put a hand on Whitebeard’s shoulder. “I do on my honor as a knight and by the binding of the oath.”
After what felt like a century, platters of food landed on the tables. Steam escaped the lids, and the smell hit Kichi in the face when they were lifted. She shoveled in cubes of pork, hot bread, and cheese. She tried to hold herself back but gave in and ate like a dragon ate peasants. Finally, she burped and slouched back. She caught a few glances of those eating delicately around and blushed.
Bin squirmed in her pocket. She slipped in a handful of food and petted the pocket.
Kichi
Level: 5
Focus: Prescience
Secondary focus: Lava+1
Weapons: pure sword - 3% pure