There wasn’t too much to say about the duo that pushed themselves into the building. It was a tighter fit for one of them than Rani, and the piece-meal armor both wore didn’t look like something they were here to fix. Neither looked like they were used to businesses in general, at least not as paying customers.
"Something I can help you two with?” asked Emrick, turning away from the forge with a weary look in his eyes.
“Rune Gem inspectors,” the shorter one grinned. “Just checking everything’s up to board. Oh, and you have one on the go right there!”
“And I suppose you’d have credentials for an important job like that?”
The man grinned. “Oh, of course, where are my manners?” A flick of his wrist brought a thick-looking knife into his hand.
Up until now, any weapons they’d seen in this world had been stuck in their sheaths, held by people with no interest in using them. This one and the intent behind it stirred instincts in Rani. They brought their fists up almost without thinking about it.
“Huh?” the man with the knife seemed to notice them for the first time. “That your gem, then? Well sorry, Miss, but-”
Of course, there was a world of difference between holding a knife and actually wielding one. A quick swing of Rani’s hand meant he wasn’t doing either. His eyes bulged in shock as it clattered away, a moment before Rani’s other hand hit him in the gut. He doubled over, and a kick to his leg sent him to the floor.
His companion snarled, stepping forward and lifting hands big enough to throttle the life out of someone. When he made a grab for Rani’s throat they slipped away to his side, grabbing him by the arm near his shoulder. It was a throw they’d done countless times before, and it wasn’t any less effective for being done in another world: the large man went sailing back out through the door, even if it wasn’t the smoothest fit.
A landing like that wasn’t something you got up from quickly if you were his size, and before he could even make it partway up Rani was upon him. They pulled back one fist for a blow that would neutralize him - and then looked into a pair of frightened eyes that hadn’t woken up today expecting to encounter someone like them. Rani breathed out, letting the aggression go with it.
Then, a voice rang out. “City Watch! Put your hands above your heads, both of you!”
That kind of shout didn’t leave much room for disobedience, especially not to someone who’d been listening to ones like it for years. Rani did as they were told, which was a wise idea: these men had crossbows. Museum piece or no, a direct hit from one of those bolts would take down anyone.
The man apparently in charge of the three, who hadn’t been the one to yell, let out a sigh, running a hand through his slightly grayed hair. “Well, what do we have here? A bit of high spirits before the Royale? Hands happened to slip?”
“They were trying to rob the forge,” Rani called, not budging a muscle. One of the two holding the crossbows, the one who’d yelled, was younger than his comrades and seemed like he had an itchy trigger finger. The large thief was getting to his feet nearby, eyes flicking between them and the guards.
“She’s telling the truth, Royce,” Emrick called as he emerged from the damaged entrance, shoving the other robber ahead of him. It looked like he’d taken a few other blows beyond the one Rani had given him, and one of his arms was twisted easily behind his back. “Not that I needed the help, mind you.”
Royce let out a whistle. “Robbing a dwarf’s forge, boys, with just the two of you? You’d need to be completely desperate to try that - or know the pay was more than worth it. Which is it here?”
Neither spoke, but from his body language Rani could guess the large one was nervous. If they’d been hired to do this, would ratting out whoever had be worse than some time in jail? Assuming it wasn’t straight to the guillotine for theft here.
The thief being held by Emrick suddenly lunged backward with one foot, kicking the dwarf in the head. He grunted and loosened his grip, allowing the thief to snatch up something from his belt. The young watchmen with the crossbow quickly fired at him, missing by barely a hair before he threw whatever it was to the ground.
To Rani it was like a flashbang had gone off. Intense, brilliant light filled the street around them, the kind that forced your eyes shut if you wanted them to still function properly. Rani heard movement around them, but it was pointless trying to stop anyone you couldn’t see.
When the light was gone, predictably so was the duo. The watchmen in charge, Royce, cursed as he rubbed his eyes. “Damn and blast, they’re bringing Spell Gems with them now too? Hate this time of year…Richard, come on back, son. If they had one of those, odds are good they have more.”
The young watchmen stopped from where he’d begun to run off. “What, and just let them go, Sergeant? They tried to rob a Leonhold citizen!”
“If no-one got hurt, it’s not worth risking anyone’s life over,” Royce said matter-of-factly. “Besides, if they’re carrying tools like that no chance we’re getting a proper confession from them.”
“But Sir!” Richard began to protest, only to be cut off by Royce pressing his helmet down over his eyes.
“You can relax now, Miss,” the older watchmen said, looking over at Rani. “If Emrick vouched for you, that’s good enough for me.”
Rani had relaxed, but could see they were mostly a way out of that argument. “Do you need me to give a statement?” they asked.
Royce scoffed. “I shouldn’t think so. Doubt those two will try anything again before the festivities, and then with any hope they’ll be off for greener pastures.” He looked Rani over. “You a participant yourself?”
He cocked an eyebrow when Rani shook their head. “I see. Well, if you’re here for work,” the watchmen added, making the four-letter word sound quite significant as it came from his mouth, “try to keep it where we don’t see it, are we clear? Fistfights in the street are a bad look for the castle, and us.”
Rani nodded, making Royce crack a smile. “Lovely,” he murmured. “It’s always a rare pleasure meeting someone who respects the local watch. Have a pleasant day.”
He and the other watchmen turned and left, a bit ahead of the squad’s third member. Their younger comrade, Richard, had ran to retrieve his bolt, and was now sliding it back into his quiver. “Not a bad shot,” Rani remarked, “but you fired a bit fast.”
They watched as he turned, raising an eyebrow at this. “That’s the idea, isn’t it? Nearly got him, too.”
“At that angle you might have hit him in the throat, or the head.”
Richard frowned. “Well, if they were trying to rob the forge they might have hurt Emrick, or you for that matter. What’s your point?”
Rani wasn’t certain themself, to tell the truth. “Just wondering if you gave yourself time to think it through, that’s all. Sorry.”
The young watchmen furrowed his brow, but before he could work out a reply one of his superiors called from down the street. Shrugging at Rani, Richard hurried to catch up with them. And that seemed to be it for the few minutes of excitement.
“Thanks for that, incidentally,” Emrick said, still lingering by his door. “Could have handled those two fine - probably - but not everyone here would have lifted a finger to help.” He scratched his beard. “You staying in town? Wouldn’t mind treating you to a drink.”
Rani shook their head. “I should probably get back to Constance’s. She didn’t seem like someone who liked being kept waiting.”
“Ha! I can tell you’re a great judge of character.” Emrick waved. “Take care then. Hope whatever she wants you for doesn’t end up burning ya.”
As they made their way back toward the front gate, Rani was wondering that themselves.
---
“Ah, you’re back.” Constance smiled. “How was Leonhold? Emrick give you any trouble?”
The trip back through the woods was perfectly uneventful, and day had begun to give way to dusk. While Rani was out Constance had taken the time to produce some supper: some soup, bread and salad. Suddenly the soldier was incredibly hungry.
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“He seemed fine with the payment,” they said, sitting down. “It sounded like he did quite a job for you.”
Constance smiled, taking a spoonful of soup. Rani got the picture, doing the same. It was a fine soup, hearty and filling. You wouldn’t find anything like this at home, at least not for a casual meal.
When they’d eaten about half their bowl, though, they set the spoon down and looked up at the mage. “I heard a lot in town about some kind of event happening soon, using those giant knights. You want me to enter and win it, don’t you?”
“My,” the older woman said, beaming, “you’re very quick-witted, aren’t you? I’m glad. You’re a tiny bit off, though,” she added. “The Lightning Royale is indeed a competition between Runic Knights and their riders, and I do want you to enter it. But I want you to make sure someone else wins.”
Rani considered this. “Why?”
“A very fair question. I suppose that means you didn’t hear any specifics about the competition?” When Rani shook their head, she raised one hand and clicked her fingers.
A small image of a figure blinked into view above the table. It was a knight like the ones Rani had seen in town, but many times more regal and ornate-looking. Its armor was equal parts red and gold, and it wore a large sword in a sheath upon its back. Most striking of all was the chest, which was molded into the shape of a lion’s head.
“This is Leovold, the Duke of Lightning,” Constance murmured, gesturing to the image. “You’ve seen Runic Knights - well, this is what we call a Runic Lord. I’ll spare you the exact details, but suffice to say, they’re extremely powerful and rare. Leovold is the one in this country’s possession.”
Rani nodded. It certainly looked impressive, even scaled down. “So, the winner earns the right to pilot it?”
Again, Constance shook her head. “No. They earn the right to sit inside Leovold and be judged. If they’re of good enough character, he might permit them to be his rider. Runic Lords are a bit choosy.”
That made things clearer. “So you have someone in mind you think will fit the bill?”
“Someone I know will,” Constance replied. “There’s only one problem. The Royale is open to anyone with a Runic Knight who can afford the entrance fee. He can do both, but he’ll be on his own against many others. Winning, or even merely doing well in the Royale is enough of an accolade for knights to fight their hardest.”
Rani swallowed the spoon’s worth of soup they’d taken in the meantime. “I can see another problem beyond numbers, in that case. You say you need to have great character to be considered worthy of him, but-”
“It’s not needed to join the competition? Oh, certainly not.” Constance smiled in a way that didn’t quite touch her eyes. “Plenty of unscrupulous individuals join every year, and some of the most unscrupulous are too powerful to turn away: winning is a fine feather in any noble's cap, and the wealth the event brings into Leonhold is enough that they can get away with plenty. I assume you saw something like that in town?”
Rani nodded, trying the salad. Not something they were used to, but it was alright. “So, if the person you’re talking about joined ten years in a row, you don’t think they’d win once?”
Constance waved a hand vaguely. “It’s unlikely, but possibly. That doesn’t matter, though.” Her face was suddenly gravely serious. “We don’t have ten years to work with. We don’t even have two. If the young man I’m talking about doesn’t become Leovold’s Rider now, this kingdom is done for.”
This might have sent anyone actually from Leonhold into a panic. Rani looked nonplussed. “How do you know that?” they asked. “Magic again?”
“More or less,” Constance said smoothly. “It was a vision, and normal folk are fortunate enough not to receive those. I remember what I saw in it about as much as people do ordinary dreams, but I can’t forget what I felt from it: chaos, despair, desolation.”
“I think I understand,” Rani murmured after a moment to let that settle. “If you could affect the Royale yourself, you wouldn’t need to have brought me here. And I’m guessing the people here wouldn’t accept him being granted that honor for free, vision or no vision.”
Constance actually laughed. “Oh, you’d be surprised. But they certainly wouldn’t accept a commoner who hadn’t earned it, which he unfortunately is. If I could wave my hands and make him a noble, this would actually be a lot easier.”
She leaned back. “So I needed someone like you. Someone who can solve problems even when the numbers are against them, who can improvise, who can be the one piece that flips the whole board upside-down.”
“I’m only one soldier,” Rani said, not for the first time in this kind of situation. “What makes you think I can change the course of an entire battle?”
Constance eyes locked with theirs. “That’s because I’ve already seen you fight. If you can kill creatures like that, beating the caliber of knight the Royale has attracted in recent years should be easy.”
That ‘should’ stuck out like a mine in a flat field, but it wasn’t as though Rani could say she was lying when they’d never even seen the event. “Does this knight know you’re doing all this for him?” Rani asked instead. “Who is he?”
“He doesn’t,” Constance admitted. “I’ve never spoken to him once, in fact, even after I learned he was fit to be Leovold’s Rider. He’d never agree with this plan, for what it’s worth, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
She clicked her fingers twice, first to dispel the image of Leovold and then summon a new one. “You’ll probably want to know what he looks like, of course.”
In place of the Runic Lord was the face of a boy in his later teenage years, with auburn hair, suntanned skin and brown eyes. “He’s a member of the city watch, and is the squire of a knight at the castle who is far above the caliber of those who come for the Royale. His name is-”
“Richard,” Rani answered. “I saw him in town.”
“That’s good,” Constance said with a nod, “since you’ll be seeing a lot more of him - if you accept.”
Rani had been wondering when she’d get around to this. “I’ve only seen the capital city - if Leonhold is that, anyway. How many people live in this country?”
“Levina is its name, the land of humans. It’s not the only country with them, but it’s where they’re most safe.” Constance pursed her lips slightly. “I’m not a head-counter by trade but there’s probably, oh, around a hundred-thousand people here.”
“How many will die if this catastrophe happens?”
It was the kind of question that could make people flinch when asked to answer it. Constance simply tilted her head. “How many would be unacceptable to you?”
Rani took a drink of water and set it down. “One,” they said after a moment.
The witch’s mouth twitched. “I think it may reach that number.”
“Then we should get started quickly.” Rani replied, raising from their chair.
To their surprise, Constance shook her head. “I think not, actually. The day’s almost gone as is.” She locked eyes with Rani again. “And besides, you being unconscious wasn’t the same as resting. You’re exhausted, I can tell.”
Rani shrugged. “It’s nothing unusual. I was in that battle exhausted, and you saw how I performed anyway.”
Constance smirked. “Then I’ll look forward to seeing how you do with a full night’s sleep.”
---
While Rani was forcefully getting an entire night’s rest, someone was sacrificing part of their own. Leonhold Castle fielded a few squadron’s worth of Runic Knights, and even in times of peace it wouldn’t do for their riders to get rusty. Some years ago a complex training ground had been set up near the knights’ barracks, letting them practice any time they liked. It was the work of a few professional mages who had asked for quite the fee, but keeping Runic Knights and the riders inside maintained was worth a fortune.
In it currently was a single rider. The Runic Knight they were using was as ordinary a one as you could call them, clad in simple armor that just barely covered the inner frame, but it still moved with grace that should have been impossible for something so giant. Its sword swept through the air, cleaving through motes of light in the air almost as soon as they appeared.
Finally a chime came, signalling the end of the session. The dome around the training field, which deafened any noise inside, faded away. The Runic Knight’s rider took a deep breath, bringing the knight into a kneeling position and exiting the cockpit.
It had been all Richard could do to keep his frustration from today under control, and neither the rest of his shift with the watch nor his duties as a squire had quite been able to make it disappear. A real knight didn’t make their problems someone else’s, so he’d had to wait until now to use it on something. They may have just been magic lights, but you could imagine them being anything.
Making sure the training knight wouldn’t tip over, Richard walked back toward the barracks, stopping halfway. Watching him was a boy a bit younger than him, his fair skin and hair standing out in the moonlight. “Lovely work, Richard,” he called.
“Basil!” the squire said, hurrying over. “You know your pa will throw a fit if he catches you out this late.”
“Ha, and Sir Albert won’t do the same if he sees you breaking curfew?” Basil replied evenly, shifting on the cane in his right hand. “I thought I’d be the only one out at this hour. Anything the matter, Richard? Controlling one of those is hard enough without doing it half-asleep, or so I hear.”
The squire shrugged vaguely. “Just the jitters, I guess. First time I’m competing in the Royale, after all.”
Basil nodded, and then after a moment added, “So, what is it really? You know I’m the only one of us who gets those.” He gave his friend’s expression a closer look before he could look away. “Did a competitor do something in town?”
He really could read him like a book, Richard thought. Not that there was any shame in the Prince of Leonhold being able to do it, but he also wasn’t under any illusion his friend needed any special royalty training for the deed, either. “Just an attempt at a burglary, that’s all. We don’t even know if it was someone here for the Royale.”
“But you think it was,” Basil finished, gripping his cane. He sighed. “You’re probably right, too. A few of the noble heirs came to pay respects at the castle today: they all seemed like they’d be fine tripping the person next to them if it got them what they wanted.”
Richard scowled. “Boils the blood, doesn’t it? They can play dirty all they like, and the worst that can happen to them if they win is Leovold turning them down. What’s the use of him if people can break the law in his country and get away with it?”
Him and his big mouth; he could he’d screwed up as soon as Basil pursed his lips. “…Sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”
“There’s only so long we’ll be able to say that, though, isn’t there?” Basil said with a sigh. “I’ll be taking the crown sooner or later.”
Before Richard could say anything more, the prince leaned forward on his cane. “Don’t know why we’re talking about this so gloomily, though. We both know you’re going to win the Royale, after all.”
The squire broke out into a smile. “Ha! Of course!” Richard thumped his chest-plate. “We’ll see how those dirty tricks match up against a real Leonhold knight, won’t we?”
“Certainly,” Basil said, and pointed across the grounds at the barracks. “Provided you get a good night’s rest first. I’d like to not see you here again at this hour until the event; prince’s orders.”
Richard couldn’t argue with a request like that, crown or no crown. But as he walked back to the barracks the confidence he’d inflated himself with faded like a bit of smoke. He could puff himself up all he wanted, but it wouldn’t change how small his chances really were. The most he could really do in the Royale was avoid totally embarrassing the castle and his master.
Actually winning would take an angel’s intervention.