On the 20th day of the month, the lords of the Realm gathered in the Royal Circus, a huge hippodrome just by the skirts of the New Royal Palace, the plebs often assembled there for tournaments and melees, but this time the King cancelled their businesses to hold a greaty tourney to welcome the lords of the great houses of the kingdoms. The whole of the court cheered at the prospect, and knights and fighters both high-born and gentries subscribed their names to partake in the jousts. The banners and emblems of all the houses were hoisted and coloured the skies with their various hues. The standards of the king were raised the highest and some flags waved so high above that, people said, dwarfed the height of the Guardian’s Tower.
The Nillöre waved their sigil of the mariner in deep blue flags, the golden Griffin in his red field flew the skies, the flower of the Durne and the white Steed also fluttered, and the golden Oak of the Clasthaur streamed in the wind. The colours of lesser houses ondulated too in the heaven’s blue dominion, house Woodmot, house Forne, and houses Velour and Butdom too.
On the field the silver and gold of the knights’ sheathing and weaponry glimmered in the sight, the swords and lances, spears and shields and all the iron forged for soldiers shone bright. Outside the Circus many-hued tents were made, and about them the clash and hammering of metal were heard. The crowds gathered inside, fighting for banks and spots to see the arena, and outside hundreds blocked the entries and ways. The horses and carriages from Eldershold flanked the building from the north and east.
Memlafar the fair cared to write of the event, the smell of iron and horse-waste wafting the air and the sunsbeams shafting through the cloud shimmering on the panoplies and helms of knights and their barded steeds. Tulfric remarked on the faces he saw, all of the king’s guard was there, the lords and champions of the great houses and many more famous paladins from the capital and across the realm. He saw sir Fann Velour and sir Henn Forne by one corner and at the other extreme three more knights from court. By the left banks talking to his father was his cousin sir Avor Alcobos, and near him were sir Anio and ser Carth Sovarós training with the sword.
The Clasthaur family stopped at their tend and there they readied the barding for their horses and put on the colours of the house, green and gold. Sir Tulfric was not tall enough to fit his armour and he worried he would not be able to contend,
-“the helm is too big” said he “and the breastplate too broad for my shoulders”
-“leave the armour for Carédock,” said Memlafar, “you are not big enough to joust”
-“I need not reminding you that I am your senior” said the clever brother, “besides I don’t see Carédock anywhere near, in his absence I will take his place”
-“where is Carédock?” asked Elbracht, “he told me he would not miss the tourney for nothing in the world, this kind of business is his expertise.”
-“I do not know,” said Memlafar, “he told me, he’d be ready after breakfast, but I have not seen him thereafter”
-“Odd indeed that he should not be here” said Tulfric, “I take it he is in some tavern hereabout or else cowered away in the eve of the tourney”
-“that is not the Carédock I know, he often calls himself the wolf of duels and jousts, and when he is finally got a chance to prove it, he is not to be seen about.” said Elbracht and asked thereupon his squire to look for him.
-“I don’t understand why the tourney should be held today,” doubted Memlafar, “this should be the Tourney of the Houses, but house Rumiel has not yet arrived”
-“nor will they for a couple more days” said Elbracht, “The Brand is far too remote for them to attend today. This wouldn’t be the first time a King assembles such an event before the Mountain-Lords come. I would not count with them if I were you”
-“Still, I believe it is for the better” said Tulfric, “no man with some sense in his head would fight the Brandmen in open field, they are too big and brawny for the tournaments, and they rarely choose the blade or lance for combat, they fight with hammer and axe, and there are no contests for those sports.”
-“Never mind them, the tourney will take place either way,” said Elbracht, “there comes cousin Martid!”
-“good day to you, sirs, what a nice day to fight and bleed, wouldn’t you say” said sir Martid, “where is Carédock? Has he shied away just before the joust?” Sir Martid chuckled to himself.
-“no one has seen him since today morning” said Memlafar sharpening a lance and shield.
-“Don’t you tell me, you wish to compete” asked sir Martid mirking, “I don’t doubt you have the spirit, Mem, but you are far too young for that business”
-“cousin Avor is already armoured and ready for the joust” said Memlafar, “he is little older than me. Should he wield the lance and mount his horse, while I sit here and watch? I think not. I am ready to take Carédock’s place should he not come”
-“Sir Avor is twice your stature, Mem” said Tulfric, “and young though he may be, he is sturdy enough to be his house champion, while you are short and feeble. Have you ever wondered why they call you the fair brother?” Memlafar threw dust at his brother’s feet, whilst Tulfric and Elbracht laughed
-“Why won’t you wear the armour?” Memlafar asked Tulfric “you are tall enough and half as bright as you think. You can pose as a brute if you cared to”
-“Than makes me still twice as bright as you,” said Tulfric, “forby, the bow and arrow are my sport. Cousin Martid will tell you otherwise, but archery is a skill for the astute”
-“Quite right, Tulf” said sir Martid sniggering, “but jokes aside, you must find a champion for the tilt. If not Carédock, perhaps your man, sir Don Gurren, will care to take his place.”
-“Nay” said Elbracht, “Sir Don will compete, but not as our champion. I have given him leave to fight in the name of his own house, the same I did for my other paladins.” Elbracht’s squire returned from the palace, bearing a message,
-“M’lord,” said he, “sir Carédock is not in the castle. I asked his page and he told me his master ha gone into the city”
-“that bloody fool” said Elbracht, “I’ll have a few words with him, as soon as I see him. Squire! Fetch my armour and steed!”
-“brother, you can’t!” said Tulfric, “a great lord of the realm is not his own champion!”
-“‘tis not unheard of” said sir Martid, “but still I believe you should wait for Carédock, I don’t doubt of your abilities, cousin, but this will not sit well with the King”
-“Now that you speak of him” said Tulfric, “where is he? His Grace should be here to initiate the games”
-“The king is indisposed, he will not attend the tourney today” said Martid with a stern face, “and I will say no more of it. Do as you please, cousin Elbracht, but you should know that sir Estewan the Toothache will compete today” Sir Martid then left the brothers to prepare himself for the tilt.
-“If the king is not here, and Carédock will not appear, then I won’t care to take the panoply, this time I will,” said Elbracht, “I have had enough patience for Carédock. Today I will let no one speak in my name. Elder Corgann did, and look what the traitor brought about. Fetch my armour, squire!”
-“He mentioned a man” said Memlafar, “sir Toothache? why should you care about him?” Elbracht was visibly annoyed to have heard the name.
-“Remember when I told you father won all the jousts, in which he competed?” Elbracht asked his brothers, and they nodded, “that was not entirely true, sir Estewan is the only man who ever dismounted our father in a tourney. He did it in the first round and without much effort. Furthermore, he is the man, to whom father lost his eye. In all other tilts in which any man partakes, sir Estewan always aims for his opponent’s cheek in the first round. The pain the knights who fought him were left with owed him the moniker of the Toothache”
-“Sounds like a formidable man” said Tulfric, “of what house is he champion?”
-“Sir Estewan fights for no house” said Elbracht, “sir Estewan is a knight of Neldor, he fights for the honour of the Order.”
The squire fetched at last his master’s armour and helm; he bore a cape of deep dark green and on his chest the oaken tree, above his yelm streamed three plumes of gold and green and red, the iron of his shield and panoply matched the barding of his black steed. He wielded his blade, Oakenjaw he called it, fro and to he swung it. He mounted thereupon his stallion dark and in hands was given lance and shield. He galloped thither and hither back he came, and the silver of his armour and barded horse glittered and shimmered under the sun and clouds. The bards then began to sing, and other knights were crowned with wreaths and flowers by maidens given. Thereupon, trumpets blowed and drums were throbbed and the standards of the King were highly raised about the royal bank. The manners and character of the jousting survived in the songs of bards and tales of lyrists of the day. They kept in their prose the course of the hastilude and the names of the contestants, as well.
Finally before the king’s bank a herald stood, and greeted the lords and ladies too. He read a prayer from scroll unrolled and The Most Reverend Wold blessed the champions, the knights and paladins in the joust. In the party Lord Osguald was also thereamong and he opened the games, at last begun. The crowd cheering and drums beating, the first contestants to the centre rode; there they presented themselves and the house for which they fought. The first was sir Holan Flere of Naelon, wearing pink and yellow, and against him tilted sir Frann Velour of Seranos, he bore red and blue in cloak and plumes and on his shield he bore the sigil of his house the famous white pigeon of the vale.
The trumpets blew one time more and forth against one another the jousters rode, their lances long of fist-topped bronze, rushed in haste to meet their foe, the galloping noise of the hooves against the dust ringed ever more loudly in everyone’s ears until only a clash of wood and iron in the air was heard, but none of the knights lost their seats, only a lance and broken shield. In the second try, Sir Holan was stricken aback his steed and on the ground he fell, and skilful on his horse-seat still, of waving cloak and flowing plumes, sir Frann of Velour the test prevailed. He was given a second wreath, and to the hail of the crowds he bowed his head.
The day was long and the blue of the sky did not faint, so games carried on with calming pace. In Archery, sir Tulfric competed against sir Cran the grey and another three men from Thindur, He gave his best in the first three tests but was defeated by the scores of sir Gonder Brayl. He made his peace with him and kept on contesting, until at last a certain sir Tim Browel proved be best with arrow and bow and gave the triumph to house Sovarós. In single combat contests, fought sir Don Gurren against sir Haglar the Allium, and then against sir Folgan the Mariner but lost at last to sir Henn Forne, whose mastery of the hammer almost cost him his life, but to serve his master Elbracht in days to come he yielded in favour of his foe. Sir Henn gave his triumph to the Sentriary and to the King.
The games were for all kinds and sorts of combat mastery, but the most crowded arena was that of the joust. After sir Frann’s victory, he contested against sir Brund Brunge, sir Casmin Fothman and sir Sigid Mudmane until he fell from his mount by the lance of sir Ford Casmud. Sir Ford was a knight of Garacy his colours were green white and blue, and on his breast he bore an ox-head. He fought against sir Jenn Gris of Thorlond, who by the first round almost broke sir Ford’s spirit, but by the second round the latter dismounted the former and went on competing against sir Henn Todmane and sir Kard Nutdam until he finally was beaten by a commoner who went by the name of Rogard of Helumar, he fought in the name of the city of Culgarost, and the masses hailed him as the Champion of the People, he wore white but was crowned with wreaths of pink blue and orange.
Sir Rogard then fought and won against four more high-born knights, thereamong a certain sir Manud Fethmore—who was champion to the Sovarós— continued the contest in a duel of swords. Sir Manud succumbed to the might of sir Rogard’s blade, who was thereupon by crowds as victor hailed. Sir Anio and sir Carth were thereafter defeated by the People’s Champion, and so were sir Kenn Gumbar and sir Hond Humberth until sir Avor Alcobos dismounted the many-hued crowned commoner falling from his back later after the clash.
Sir Avor was fair and strapping, his mark of youth was faint, for his beard trimmed and eyes enchanting resembled the guise of saints, and gallant on his steed white, like a proper son of Senn, he rode hither and thither, again and again. His hands were mighty as long was his lance, and his look was stern on the tilt-rail, whilst victorious to the folks he smiled. On his chest was the white stallion of his house, and the spangles of gold he bore in his cloak. He tilted many knights of name and splendour among them sir Cardo Montus, sir Ludis Brare and sir Ondor Spenzar, and against them all he won and won, until dozens of wreaths on his lance were hung. And yet at last from his mount he fell by the strength of a knight of his house. Sir Martid of Parma, of golden curls defeated his kinsman in the joust.
Of the Southern Kingdom many men competed, some fighting for themselves other tilting for houses, Sir Don Gurren was among them—whom after being defeated in single combat trials, decided to give jousting a try. He was strong and fierce like bolt in the clouds, and just as fast his steed could ride against his foes in arms. He unmounted sir Fondal Dellow and sir Hodacan bloud, the treasurer’s grandson, and fought then sir Gendal Farmes, who himself had been also to Elbracht a squire. Sir Don was valiant and of brownish mane, his sky bue eyes were keen as his lance, and struck many more thereafter by contest to the ground. The proud sir Don was swift and daring but when sir Pand Daswell as his rival posed, he bit the dust and fell from his horse. Sir Pand was brawny and more feral than ser Don, but could not hold long the winning course, since in the following test was beaten by another foe. That foe was none other than our precious prince, sir Pand by his adversary lance was pierced, and Elbracht galloping with thunder-voice roared as against his first opponent won. The lord of Ceor’s roaring earned him the name of the lion.
The lord Elbracht gallant on mount gave the joust a taste of his might, for over and over again he won, unchallenged by strength in the match. He competed against sir Frann Godomare, Trystan Ormell and sir Jodan Fanath, all strong and brave, but met with some struggle at last, for he fought against a common man hailed by the nobles and crowds alike, this man was Gudy Sudmeth known by most as the Proud, for he was a man tall and rebellious, who to neither lords nor kings he bowed, and when he forth rode against his rival in arms, cloak fluttering and with white plumes crowned, he broke the lord’s shield apart. On ground on they dueled with long swords in hand and the masses and high-born beheld, that strapping the man, of Ceor he was lord, in his eyes a fire was fanned, and doom fell too on Gudy the Proud, at last defeated, he bowed.
Hours went by and Elbracht kept winning on the rail. He rode to and the fro and to again always outmatching his combatant in thew. He fought kinghts of orange, of grey and beige; sir Caladan Gismare, sir Godocan Dayle and another commoner named Tom Dave, and dozens of wreaths on his lance twirled as against his opponents he rade. For a moment he seemed unconquerable promising much of the strength his father had shown before him. But even as he bathed in glory, there came a knight that wounded his pride.
The knigh in question was listed only as Sir Jay, and he fought for the house Sovarós though none among its lords seemed to know him back. Twice Elbracht blew off his shield yet he did not fall from his horse. In the third round, Sir Jay unmounted the Lion, but then he took up Oakenjaw and brawled on in a duel of arms. Sir Jay drew out his sword too, but on foot, Lord Elbracht proved the victor. Nevertheless, ever graceful, Elbracht congratulated the man for his strength and bid him to remove his helm. Twice he refused, but upon the third time, Elbracht said.
-“Why do you cower away behind your yelm?” he said, “Are you by any chance a shy maid that does not wish to show to his foe his face?”
To Elbracht’s surprise and the crowds’ too, they discovered the Sir Jay was no knight, but rather a woman iron-clad.
-“Well, it seems the shy maid, as brought you down your mount, my lord.”
Elbracht then laughed, and taking back what he said before, he congratulated the female knight. Not that it mattered to the judges, for they disqualified her on account of her sex, and being that not enough for her dismay, a man shouted from the nobles’ banks at her.
-“Lady Alyse! Have you no shame?” said Lord Hadril of Fyore, “Come this once, and loose your sword and mail-chain. These sports are not meant for maids.”
Even though, Lady Alyse did not appear to take lightly her father’s reproach she was visually satisfied that she had had a chance at the tourn. And Elbracht saw her in a gallant light that was as brave as the men of her house.
Tulfric remembers with some distress the last adversary to his brother in the first half of the joust. It was a man of house unkown who went by the name of sir Rolt, he was a pile of stamina on blond cob and his shield was blank as his robes; he stood for no house but claimed he’d been given a knighthood, and he had that guise, his face was fair and greyish-haired but had no track of eld. Sir Rolt unmounted Elbracht with his fist-topped lance and dueled thereon on the ground. He swung his long-sword with might and split the oaken shield in two with a blast, but the Harad-lion did not yield, he fought thereon half unarmoured with his blade in hand, and it seemed for a moment he would lose, but Elbracht sprang unto his rival, at last, severing his foe’s left arm, yet limbless sir Rolt went on unwaned. The mysterious knight was awful to see, his blood tainted his silver and cape, the crowds did not cheer the fight, for more than one were distressed and the maidens were horrified to see that man still standing. The monster would have killed the lord of Ceor if the king-at-arms had not intervened, and the judges stood before sir Rolt and the brawl was over.
The houseless knight groaned reproachful, and painless he picked up his severed hand and left the arena. The king at arms declared lord Elbracht the victor but a sense of fright was sensed in his eyes. Had that melee gone on, who knows if he could survive that mindless mount of unforgiving wraith? The jousting did not go on that day, the sun had left its blue seat and Elbracht joined his brothers in his tent.
-“who was that beast?” asked Memlafar worried, “he could have cut you in two had you not taken his arm”
-“who indeed was he?” asked Elbracht tiresome and sighing, “Sir Martid did not know either, but he told me that was his first time jousting today”
-“Gods be good, it is over” said Tulfric, “I don’t believe I heard the judges saying, he was disqualified, yet I hope you will not fight him again tomorrow”
-“he did not say whence he comes” said Elbracht, “nor did he care to tell anyone for what house he stood”
-“perhaps that was the Toothache?” said Memlafar stuttering, “He seems to be the type you mention, but he did not aim for your yelm.”
-“Nay,” said Tulfric, “I overheard some people saying, sir Estewan had already fought five knights before noon, he is already a semi-finalist, and those were not his colours”
-“Tonight, I will make inquires at court” said Elbracht, “mayhap, sir Frann Velour will tell me who he was. But never mind that now. Are there any news from Carédock?”
-“Not to my knowledge” said Tulfric, “he could have been in the crowd with some luck, but worry not I will go to his chambers tonight and ask for him. You should care to rest; tomorrow will be as harsh as today if not worse.”
Sir Martid entered the tent, with his helm in hand, and he had puzzling look uncertain of what to say,
-“Cousin Elbracht” said he, “I have just come from meeting with the judges, they tell me, there is no mention of a sir Rolt in their lists and there is no tent with his name hereabout. It’s safe to say he will not be competing again.”
-“And still,” asked Elbracht, “is there nothing to know about that man, if indeed we can call him that?”
-“There is no knowledge about him at all” said sir Martid, “the Judges say, he just entered the tilt-rail following Tom Dave. They say his voice was grim and hoarse, ‘tis likely he was merely a commoner trying to find his way into the joust”
-“How do you explain the matter with his arm?” asked Tulfric, “his limb was cut off and he painlessly went on fighting, as if nothing had happened to him, and after the duel he picked up his arm and shadowed away”
-“the common folk says he might proceed from the Brand, thus his size and strength” said Martin, “but the Rumiel caravan is a week delayed, he could not have been a Brandman.”
-“What of the Northern Mark?” said Tulfric “the men of the Gron country are said to be just as formidable as the mountain-folks. That still doesn not explain his lack of pain. Maybe he was just stoic and suffered innerly instead, but a man no matter the strength would have bleed to death all the same. Have the judges also told you, if he went to a physician after the tilt?”
-“None could say” said Martid, “but never mind that for now, all that matters is that Elbracht was put out of harm’s way just in time. Pray, what is become of your brother sir Carédock?”
-“We know just as much as you do” said Memlafar, “he wasn’t in the tent nor in the Circus, and had he been in the taverns nearby he would have been among the crowd. If that were the case, surely a soul or two from court would have spotted him and given him a seat in the front”
-“I will look for him, in his habitual abidings” said Martid, “As for you, Elbracht, gather your strength for tomorrow, you made it to the semi-finals, which means next time we meet, it will be on the arena as rivals” Martid smirked and joked, “but worry not, I won’t scratch your panoply much, I will care to bring you down swiftly and without pain”
-“You speak with all certainty” said Elbracht, “I will show you tomorrow, what the men of the South are made of. Kin as we may be, you will not last long against me, mark my words.”
-“We shall see, cousin. We shall see” said sir Martid defiantly.
Sir Martid left, and not long after the brothers gathered their things and went up back to the castle. Sir Tulfric went to Carédock’s quarters but his page did not give him pass, he told him his master had gone to bed earlier and wished not to be disturbed. With Carédock’s matter settled, Tulfric, Memlafar, the tutor Asadue and Elbracht dined together, remembering the course of the day, and the many song-worthy confrontions in the tourney. Elbracht’s favourite was surprisingly none of his own,
-“that man who lost against cousin Avor,” asked Elbracht. “What was his name?”
-“the Champion of the People, you mean?” said Tulfric, “I believe his name was Rogard of Helumar, he is not a knight but a commoner from the city”
-“Ah yes, sir Rogard” said Memlafar, “I asked some questions here and there, and for what I am told, that man was a slave until not long ago”
-“a slave?” asked Tulfric perplexed, “you ought to ask again, your sources may be wrong”
-“what is not to be believed in Mem’s story?” asked Elbracht,
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-“He could not have competed if he were a slave” said Tulfric, “though smallfalk were allowed to partake, a made-free slave is not allowed to joust in a royal tourney; their kind is not allowed anywhere near such events; they are kept in the markets and slums”
-“And how on earth do you know that?” asked Elbracht, “any man with his ability should partake in the tilts no matter their past. I would vouch for Asadue if he wished to” Elbracht turned to his tutor.
“I would gladly put in my name for the honour of your house, my pupil” said Asadue, “Alas, the fates have not granted me the abilities for such a match, my strengths are better invested in the business of the mind”
-“I would not doubt that, mentor” said Elbracht and then turned to his other brothers, “and still, no man should be deprived from the chance”
-“Try asking the King, then” said Memlafar, “he would tell you otherwise if he showed his face at court more often”
-“There is another curious thing, the King of Men always opens the games when the lords of the realm are invited” said Elbracht, “would you not say it was rather queer for coursin Martid to say that the King was indisposed? What else in the world could have taken so much of his time, that he did not care to come to the tourney even after it was begun?”
-“I have an easy answer for that” said Tulfric “Neldor. It seems there are ever more knights of the Order dwelling the halls of the castle, Most of them are men, but every once in a while I see the Long Faces hereabouts.”
-“I have seen only a few Ennards in the castle” said Memlafar, “but I suppose, they keep to themselves in the temple of Neldor near the King’s Garden, I often wander therein and see one or two figures too tall to be men”
-“Regarding the Order, I would not worry about the Ennards for now” said Elbracht, “It is this man, sir Estewan the Toothache, what distresses me. I am told he is a man from the Cadia, and later renounced his house and titles to join the knights of the Order. Sir Martid told me he went on using his same tactics of crushing his enemies’ jaws in the joust; sir Don Gurren says he saw him in the arena, beheading a man on horse in the joust. He has proved to be stronger than father, what if I am doomed to lose to him tomorrow? What if I meet a worse end than my father’s?”
-“It is too late for Carédock to take your place now” said Tulfric, “but you can always yield, if you don’t mind to be labelled a coward afterwards”
-“Don’t taunt me, Tulf” said Elbracht, “If any one among us is a coward, that is Carédock, no doubt. Why is he not here now dining with us? Is he so full of shame for having left us without a champion today, that he cannot show his face at our table?”
-“I went to his room earlier” said Tulfric, “his page did not let me in, he told me he had gone to bed quite a while ago, surely too drunk to put two words together, less likely to excuse himself.”
-“let the fool rest” said Elbracht, “We’ll manage without him tomorrow as we did today. Go to sleep you two. We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
On the morrow of the next day, strange news flooded the palace, and were shared from mouth to mouth, that the armour of sir Rolt was discovered displayed on the doorsteps of the palace over midnight; the tainted cloak and helmet, and the breastplate and greaves but the left gauntlet was missing. The king’s herald reported that the panoply was found during the kings guard night watch and was given to the guard’s captain immediately, no further hints were added to the discovery only the suggestions and theories from court. It was said that the armour belonged to a nobleman, since no commoner could have had clearance to roam the castles inner bailey freely and without escort. The more superstitious courtiers noted it was the sheathing of sir Rolt Dorgaron, a legendry knight of the Realm who fought the dark forces of the Omynous in days of yore, they suggested that sir Rolt was his ghost and had parted back to the abyss after the combat.
The myth was indeed a strange one, but did not fade away with time, for thereafter sir Henn Forne confirmed that the panoply had been stolen from the royal armory. The missing gauntlet was sought after during the coming days, and yet no track was left as to its whereabouts. Elbracht was shocked to learn of the news but was not too affright to carry on with his role in the tourney. The lord of Ceor was seen from early on in the morning wearing his full suit of armour and wasted little time pass breakfast to go to his tent and practice. There he readied himself for the games of the day, and was first to compete in the joust.
The tilt began after the trumpets’ blow and drums’ beat and lord Osguald again opened the day’s game instead of the king. Medrios absence was this time unexcused, but not many seemed to mind, for the eagerness to hear the iron clash was noticed in both the lords and the crowds.
His first opponent was sir Fenn Velour fully displaying his colours and bearing the coat of arms of his house. The pigeon of the vale tried his hardest to break Elbracht’s spirit, but at last he succumbed to the prince’s might, and the lord of Ceor received from a judge the lilies wreath of the semi-finalists. Next in on the arena were sir Martid of Parma against sir Ford Casmund, their battle was swift and both knights broke the other’s shield, yet on the second round, sir Martid dismounted sir Ford and was crowned with lilies as well.
Later on fought sir Don Gurren against the People’s Champion. Rogard of Helumar was fiery and unhinged, presumably half idled with wine, he was not as heroic as yesterday, and sir Don was smooth and hench and his lance pierced Rogard’s yelm. Nevertheless, even unhelmed, the brawny commoner tilted again. The Harad knight rode in haste galloping to his enemy’s prowl, yet Rogard doged him and struck sir Don to the ground. The Champion of the People victorious once more was given the lilies crown.
The fourth match of the day was the first time Elbracht gazed upon Sir Estewan the Toothache. To his amazement, he was, indeed, a man. Though some faint shade of Ennishness passed over his face, he had all the characters of humanity; the comely tanned skin of the Aredans, a golden-bronze mane—common among the northern folks—with grey streams on his beard and hair and deep blue eyes, like the men from the west; his brow was marked with wisdom and his look was deep and stern. His guise was smooth and svelte and towered over all men about him. On his breast, there was the silver sigil of a crown and a sword and on his shield, he bore a winged skull; his colours were white and spruce and he wore them in cloak and plumes. On mount he was formidable and galloping his pace was like the wind, strong and swift.
Sir Estewan as gallant as no man could be ended the joust victorious, he was crowned with the lilies and sir Don though defeated suffered no big harm, he kept his honour and likewise and bowed to his opponent’s might. The following tilt was between the sir Avor Alcobos against the Champion of the People, sir Avor was brave and vigourous but not even his strength and highness could save him from falling from his steed after’s sir Rogard’s blast on the chest. The knight of Helumar was given the lilies wreath and bowed to the clamour of the crowds.
The next jousting was a test of valour and certainly a cause for rouse, sir Estewan against Rogard of Helumar. The knight of Neldor was much taller than the Champion of the People, but sir Rogard was far brawnier, his massive arms and broad shoulders were a wonder to the sight, his squared guise, forbidding and awesome, was covered by a layer of iron that did not glitter—presumably he wore the cheapest panoply he could get his hands upon. Most in the crowd hailed Rogard over his foe for various reasons; he was immensely popular among the crowd, while the Toothache was a man of the oppressing Order of Neldor. Regarding strength, the former was obviously on the win, but when tilting, sir Estewan dismounted his opponent with a blast on the face; the People’s Champion fell on his back, and the ground quaking, stillness followed. The victor was given a wreath of roses of the finalists and the arena was readied for the next joust.
The crowds thirst for Rogard’s avenging was great, and instead of the sir Estewan, the masses cried out the heroes name “Rogard! Rogard! Rogard!” But at last the clamour was swiftly silenced by the ring of the trumpets and the echoes that followed. Sir Martid of Parma—whom the men of the capital called the Golden Curl— rose from among a group of squires and judges from one end of the arena, he raised his yellow lance and the crowds cheered him. From the other end of the tilt-rail came lord Elbracht, brandishing a deep green lance crowned with a fist-top of iron, and the sun shimmered on his silver panoply.
The plumes of his helmet streamed against the wind as forth he rode to meet his kinsman. The valour of Elbracht was matched only by his strength as he clashed against sir Martid’s shield. On the first round none of them fell, but in the second try, lord Elbracht with might unrivelled dismounted the powerful Golden Curl. The songs of the contest tell of sir Martid’s grace, he revered his victor and went quietly back to his post, while the crowds hailed the prince’s name. Lord Elbracht roared with glory and was given a crown of roses and went back to his tent to prepare for the final joust, sir Estewan the Toothache against lord Elbracht the Lion.
The tilt between the two finalists was put into verse by many harpers and bards, and tales remembered them in the ‘Song of Prideful Haradese’—where lord Elbracht fought his father’s bane. Tulfric the clever cared to write down the tale in his diary, as the talers would have sung it in those days,
The day was pure in blue and gold,
The city, crowned with banners and flags,
For a joust was held of houses old
Under the sun without jesters or wags.
There the tilts of knights and men,
Stronger than most who dwell the realms,
Fought for glory of worthy tales
With swords and shield and plumed helms.
Sir Estewan, a man of Neldor, won
Against many a knight who posed as foes
He gave them blood and lost to none
His lance is keen to those who oppose.
Then came the prince of many a song,
Elbracht the lion, of Ceor was lord,
And gallant on horse, his arm was strong,
Yet Estewan’s strike his armour gored.
But fall aback Elbracht did not,
On mount he kept honour and grace,
And quarrelled on with lucky a lot
So, lance in hand, he victory chased.
He gave the crowds a valiant roar,
And forth he rode with gold oak shield,
He struck the knight of Neldor’s chest,
But gave no sigh or sign of yield.
‘I must joust for my glorious name,’
Said Elbracht lord of hearts and maids
‘Like in days of yore, when men did claim,
The rule of realms ere Neldor came’
And so he forth on black steed went,
Against the Toothache, the knight he’d quell.
Still sir Estewan fiercely unbent,
Clashed the lion, from mount he fell.
And still on ground he held his pride,
His sword he drew and dared the knight.
Sir Estewan’s blade with hasting stride,
Gave lord Elbracht another fight.
A clash of iron, a storm of might;
The lion faced the Neldor’s brand,
And darkness nearing before the night,
The lord of Ceor gave in at last.
Lord Elbracht’s defeat was not final, but earned his opponent the victory in the joust. Lord Elbracht rose from the ground and bowed his head to sir Estewan, the Neldor knight removed his helm and sheathed his sword back to its case; his golden-bronze hairs streamed in the wind and a deep-blue sparkle was on his eyes,
-“You have proven mightier than your father, my lord” said he, “had he seen you today, you would have made him proud.”
-“You speak with honour, sir” said Elbracht sternly “I have never yielded ever before in my life. I pray I may prove my worth against you again some day”
-“I only hope, you will do so less noisily” said sir Estewan, “so far you have only proven worthy of your moniker”
-“A lion will always roar bravely in the face of the defeat, until its last breath, sir” said Elbracht.
-“A lion may be brave” said sir Estewan, “but his strength too can submit to one who knows his ways well. There is a great deal of your father in you; I hope you will not follow in his every foot-step.”
-“If you knew me, you will know that is not my intent” said the lord of Ceor.
-“I am looking forward to getting to know you better” said the Toothache, “I will be in court if you wish to meet with me.”
Sir Estewan put his helm back on and mounted his hourse back to his tent, only to come back to the arena latter on following the trumpets blow to claim his wreath of golden leaves. Once crowned with the victor’s chaplet he went straight to lord Osguald to receive his prize; three thousand gold-coins he pledged to his Order. Lord Elbracht went back to his brothers to tell them of his new acquaintance; Memlafar did not enjoy learning his brother’s impression of the Toothache was not a bad one, Tulfric instead deemed the encounter to be a productive one, for he respected the name of the man who had won the tilt fair and square.
Back at Eldershold a great feast was held in honour of the champions of the Tourney, there the minstrels sang many a tales of the show of bravery and power of the tilting knights. The People’s Champion was invited and when the still absent King learnt of the man’s courage and unrivalled thew in the joust, he ordered a royal herald to give the commoner a knighthood and proper standing; some suggested he’d be give a place among the kingsguard but the nobler members of court disliked the idea of low-born champion protecting the king. Lord Elbracht was also immensily praised, though not the victor, his display of chavalry and bravery earned him the admiration of many lords and distinguished gentries in the palace.
In Eldershold, sir Carédock the younger finally reemerged from he shadows of his squarters and chattered with his brothers to learn of what had transpired in the tournament. Tulfric noted in his memoirs, Elbracht was not very happy to see him,
-“You bloody fool” said he, “now that the worst is past, you dare to show your face again. You’d be pleased to know that I save the day filling in your vacant place”
-“I am sorry if I let the house down in the tourney” said Carédock “but I did not wish to come to the capital in the first place. Is it truly any wonder I should fight for the house in the tourney after I gave you many reasons, not to come to court”
-“be it as it may,” said Elbracht “your protest could not hold you against courting the lady Condor” Carédock seemed distressed, “Ah, yes. Do not think for a moment I have been blind to your many excursions to the city, Tulf and Mem have told me many of your adventures to the city, cousin Martid only confirmed them”
-“Do you wish me to not be here, brother?” asked Carédock, “or should I dishonour you even more to show my face now among these fancy people you seem to be so fond of? Tulf has told me you even took a liking of our father’s bane?”
-“I have only done what is best for the family” said Elbracht, “we need to be in the capital when duty commands it. but I have kept both eyes opened for possible threats, because whether you like to believe it or not, whatever happens in the capital happens too to the rest of the kingdoms eventually; better to have friends in Culgarost than enemies”
Their feud might have raised in tone and claimed the attention of many courtiers had Tulfric not intervened,
-“Never mind that now” said he, “we should mind to keep our misunderstandings conceiled within the walls of our quarters. We cannot afford to look divided here, just look at the king’s house; the Sentriary have never been more at odds to itself, and not even the King can be in the same room as his kinsmen without raising brows.”
-“our brother speaks the truth” said Elbrach, “you may stay here if you want to, Carédock. But keep appearances for as long as we are under the eyes of court, especially if men of Neldor are present”
-“I think I have had enough court-buzz for today” said Carédock, “I will go back to my chambers, where I do not pose as a threat to our family’s standing” full of contempt, Carédock stormed out of the place.
-“I only wish, Carédoc had your wits, Tulf” said Elbracht “this business in Culgarost has already cost me a great deal of family-drama; seending mother back to Ceor has already deprived me of one soul I can count on, it would be my undoing if I’d lost Carédoc too.”
-“We’ll talk about it later in supper” said Tulfric, “for now, try only to mind to find more friends in the capital. You said it yourself, we need more allies at court, so far uncle Dundos seem to be the only man with can trust, but even he is as strange to the capital as we were when we first came.”
-“You are only too right” said Elbracht, “I have tried to approach every great lord I could hand get my hands on, but they all seem to focus in doing the same as us. Many try to keep close to the king, but I am afraid his Grace has been held captive by Neldor, he would not show his face in the tourney, even now he seems to be too busy with whatever the White Towers puts before him to attend this feast.”
Upon having said this, sir Estewan approached the party; he had been intertaining the lords of Fyore until then with details of his prowess in the tilt. The Toothache had a smug face but a sparkle was still in his eyes when he drew near to lord Elbracht,
-“good day to you, my lord, and to you sir Tulfric” said he “I thought I would have the pleasure to meet your brother sir Carédock, but he seemed to have been distraught when he left the chamber”
-“sir Estewan, my congratulations are in order” said Tulfric “I find it kind of you to want to meet our brother. Alas, sir Carédock is not much fond of noble gatherings; his heart is better placed with the business of the sword”
-“In that we are much alike, he and I” said sir Estewan, “your father is not the only man of renown my blade has encounter”
-“is he not?” said Elbracht sarcastically, “I am sure it has had other uses in service of the White Tower”
-“Indeed, my sword and shield belong to the Order” said Estewan “but it was not in its service that I have given my most notorious blow. I am sure you know of sir Carlot of Hel”
-“there is not a living soul in the Realm who doesn’t know of sir Carlot” said Tulfric “in the South we call him Bearclaw, they say he mounts no horse but a wild bear from the mountains. His men are feared in the Brand, so I’m told, they say he intends to challenge lord Gunder’s lordship over the mountains.”
-“Ay, the Bearclaw was leader of a clan from the Brand that went rouge and opposed to the rule of lord Gunder the Rock” said Estewan, “until not long ago he kept the pass of Hel watched over by his gang, and raided the farers and travellers that ventured south from the Gron country, but it’s safe to say now that he won’t be a trouble any more”
-“Your doing, I take it?” asked Elbracht.
-“You guess well, my lord” said Estewan, “a couple of months ago, my men and I brought an end to sir Carlot, and I am sorry to disappoint your expectations, but the man never rid any bear, his mount was an ailing brown jade, not taller than an ass. His myths died with him, in truth many of his man had left his company and barely had enough men to raid villages in Helixy, he could not have overthrown the Rock even he’d had a decade to prepare.”
-“Then the Realm owes you a great debt” said Elbracht, “I am sure the king must be eating off your hand”
-“I wouldn’t dare say, I rarely see him” said the knight of Neldor, “in truth, his Grace has been seldom seen outside of his appartments. For what I am told only his chamberlain visits him over the day, and his privy council is held in his chambers.”
-“That does seem strange,” said Elbracht “Upon my arrival he almost did not say a word, yet I am sure he will be present in the Council of Prince, he’s made quite a fuss to make me look subservient to him”
-“Aren’t we all,” asked Estewan, “regardless of what you think of him, he is your king as much as he is mine. It must be a great burden to inherit the mess of his predecessor. Having to live up to the myths of the great Kings of Men, has already taken a heavy toll on him; last time I saw him he appeared twice older than he was”
-“I quite pity him” said Tulfric, “he must live in the shadow of his myth, never brave enough to confront his true situation.”
-“In that he resembles the Bearclaw” said Elbracht, “let’s just hope, he does not meet the same end.”
The three men kept on talking for a while after that, and sir Estewan invited the Harad-lion to pay him a visit in the temple of Neldor before leaving the party. Although to Tulfric it was sure to expect disapproval from his brother, Elbracht showed himself willing. The feast went on well pass midnight, yet the lord of Ceor and his brother left the celebration before that and hoped to dine with Memlafar and Carédock. The fair brother was already waiting for them on his chair at the table, but there was no sign of his elder brother. Elbracht suggested fetching for him, still Tulfric did not wish his brother to tempt Carédock’s temper, instead the three brothers dined without him and chattered of their conversation they held with Elreck’s bane.
On the next day, still with the Rumiel delayed, lord Elbracht ventured with his protector sir Don Gurren into the city; they paraded through the city’s forum when the prince saw the capital’s great Temple of Neldor risen tall as steward-building to Eldershold just by the skirts of the mount of the New Palace Royal. Sir Don stood by one corner and noted on his liege-lord’s curiousity upon gazing that edifice; they went up the paved way to the palace and turned left to visit the temple. Inside the main hall was adorned with statues of idols of the Order; great heroes of old from many races and kingdoms, but at the end of that grand chamber a huge monument of King Aurio almost tipped the roof. The splendorous statue casued a great deal of awe in the lord of Ceor and he was astonished to see the likeness of that elder king—who wielded inhis hands a stoned replica of the Black Sword.
Sir Estewan came out of one of the lateral entrances to the hall and his voice echoed on the granite walls like a horn,
-“I am surprised you decided to come” said he, “I supposed, you would not dare to the enter the temple even if it was the only sanctuary left standing in the capital”
-“you supposed well,” said Elbracht, “but I am sorry to disappoint you. I wondered what forced a knight of your stature to turn his back on his people to join an Order that claims dominion over all free kingdoms”
-“You may find it hard to believe” said Estewan, “but I did not forsake my fatherland to join the ranks of the White Tower. In truth it was the same man you are amazed to see that moved my hand to give my sword to the Order.” he stood next to lord Elbracht and put his eyes on the same statue the Prince awed to set sight upon. “Wonderous, isn’t it?” said the Toothache “King Aurio was the stuff of legend. He was one of the first Kings of Men to serve as Master of the Order; and he did not left his kingdom behind to fight for Neldor, instead he found common cause with the White Tower to defeat the dark forces of the Omynous and free the race of men from his wicked grip”
-“those were different times” said Elbracht, “in those days, the Order stood for justice and freedom, but the Dark Lord is gone, now there is no enemy to fight and the Order seems to only have grown into a bank, which currency is the life of all men under its rule.”
-“The Order has not lost its original pith” said sir Estewan, “we still fight for rightiousness and justice. The Realm still benefits a great deal from the services of the White Tower, to this present age. But I can see why you think the way you do, your father was not much keen to Neldor either.”
-“I have told you already many times, I am not my father” said Elbracht, “you should not find it hard in your heart to believe.”
-“And still you see us as the enemy” said the Toothache, “The Order is not the enemy; we are the last stand against the Darkness and had it not been for us, and the courage of all men, who had layed down their life against it, we would not live in this new but hard-worked golden age”
-“There is no Darkness left to fight” said Elbracht, “the Omynous is gone, the purpose of Neldor died with him.”
-“To you it might seem so” said sir Estewan, “but his Darkness has not left this world, his spirit looms over those who are ready to take his place and bring doom to earth.”
-“Your tongue is best suited for the history books” said Elbracht “and for the tales and legend of old. Yet, not for the present day”
-“You’ll be surprised to know that even among the seats of the Council of Master, the lords of the Order share your reasoning, but those like me, who see wisdom in the song of yore, will tell you that the world is not free of the Dark Lord’s handiworks,” said the Toothache.
-“What of Aurio’s brand?” asked Elbracht, “where is the steel that slayed the Dark Lord, the blade forever tainted with the Omynous’ blood, the Sword that opens all Doors?”
-“You know the tales, my lord?” asked Estewan.
-“Indeed, I do…..” answered Elbracht. and then the Toothache replied,
-“Then you would not be so bold as to call it Aurio’s Brand. For he did not forge it nor was he the first warrior to wield it; that would be King Phebro the Nulf, and still we do not know the blade as Phebro’s Brand. Nay, the sword did not belong to men neither did it to the Elder Ones. It belonged to the old king Edwyn of the Nulves before any man brandished it, and then he gave it to King Aurio in his darkest hour. For this, after the War of the Shadows it did not seem right that it should be an heirloom of the Kings of Men. The sword is kept in Arno, venerated in the Sacryum, the holiest shrine of the White Tower.”
-“it was a man who wielded it against Darkness” said Elbracht, “why should it not be treasured among the relics of Aurio’s descendants?”
-“becaused it never belonged to him” said Estewan, “neither did it belong to the race of Ennards; the sword belongs to no single kingdom or culture but to all, thus it is kept in the only place where the kings of all realms meet.”
Lord Elbracht as a youth was very keen to myths and legends, in talking to sir Estewan he reminisced his childhood interests, the stories of the old folks and the elder legends of the Realm. The two men went on for hours speaking of those tales; of the Omynous and the Dark Age, when no man was free of evil, of King Aurio and other heroes of yore.
Over the course of a week, the lord of Ceor got to know better sir Estewan the Toothache. At first Elbracht was cold to the knight of Neldor, for he was an agent assigned, much like the Guardian, to be a permanent embassador of the Order at court, yet the Toothache managed to win over Elbracht’s trust and affection, by sharing in the his love for the sagas of the legendry King Neldor. He inquired about the old tales the knight was taught of in his time in the White Tower, the wisdoms he learnt there and the peoples, which he’d meet. Carédock and Tulfric found it oddly peculiar that their brother—who intensily loathed the Order—would befriend a Neldorian Officer.
When Carédock found the time to acquaintance sir Estewa, they did not see eye to eye. He made every effort to understand whether he was a good man or simply another mindless pawn in service of the White Tower, but they did not learn to coexist with him, for the Toothache was far too duty-bound for his liking. Sir Carédock tolerated his brother’s friendship, yet either for his involvement with the Fanatics or his father’s ghost pressing to disapprove of him, he grew far too wary of the Toothache to trust the man.
The lord of Ceor ignored his brothers’s warning and continued to spend time with the Toothache both at court and outside the palace. Eventually they grew very close to one another and Elbracht told sir Estewan of Harador, of the current state of the kingdom, of its customs and laws, of the Haradese dislike for the Order and of the character of his father. Sir Estewan seemed very sympathetic, recalls the Edoran, yet often times he’d make excuses for the Order and spoke ferverously of its purpose, its mission—of the brotherhood of nations, the harmony among the races and the making of the New Golde Age.
All of these premises seemed to have awaken a subtle and sudden respect for the Order in the prince’s heart, as if the knight’s words had bewitched him. Some say, history would have turned out very differently if Elbracht had keot this sentiment in his soul, yet fate was too uncertain and treasonous. The nature of this friendship toke an opposite tiding once Elbracht introduced to sir Estewan, his life-long mentor, Asadue. The personality of both men clashed as Asadue raged on his taking of the Order and the toothache was not much different; the knight of Neldor detested the man purely for political reasons, since most Hazagodian kingdoms were openly at war with the Order of Neldor at the time, and already many tragedies had befallen each side by the hands of the other. Tulfric went as far as to say, that sir Estewan loathed Asadue also due to his skin of darker hue.
For the Toothache, it was difficult not to see in Asadue an enemy, despite the many efforts Elbracht made to show his new friend the goodness and wisdom in his mentor, sir Estewan left the prince’s presence spitting on the Hazagodian’s name and his kind. Thence all love and affection the Edoran might have felt for that knight vanished from his heart. Regardless of their estrangement, sir Estewan had dug out enough information about Elbracht’s interests and business with the king to report to lord Osguald. In the chamberlain’s diary, it was later discover that sir Estewan the Toothache was counted among his spies. It is very likely that Elbracht never learnt of his betrayal.
Sir Estewan vs lord Elbracht [https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/928675464401281116/1090927912577925180/Sir_Estewan_vs_lord_Elbracht.jpeg]