As the Duke approached, Erec remembered him—he had met him once, at King’s Court, at a royal event. He was a tall and lean man, with a perfectly straight posture and a gallant look. Beside him, Erec was happy to see, was one of his brothers-in-arms, a member of The Silver, a man Erec had fought with on many occasions; they had been in the same year in the Legion, and seeing him brought back old memories. They had gotten into trouble together one too many times. Brandt. With his warm, green eyes and blond beard, Brandt looked exactly as he had when Erec had last seen him years ago.
Brandt’s face lit up in a smile as he jumped down from his horse along with the Duke. Erec jumped down from his, and Brandt hurried up to him.
“Erec, you son of a mother’s whore!” Brant called out with a hearty laugh. “I never thought I’d see you more than a hair’s breadth from King’s court!”
Brandt embraced him heartily.
“And I never thought I’d see you either, old friend.”
“We are thrilled to have you here!” the Duke said, embracing him with a hearty clasp of the forearm. “It has been many years since we last met. You are most welcome here. Having you here is like having the King himself!
“GUARDS!” the Duke turned and yelled over his shoulder.
Several guards rushed forward.
“Prepare the banquet hall! We shall all have a glorious feasts tonight, in honor of our brother Erec!”
“Here here!” came a happy cheer from the crowd.
“And what brings you here?” Brandt asked. “Has the King sent you this way?”
“He has not, I’m afraid. I am on a…personal mission this time.”
Brandt examined him, bunching his eyebrows; then his face lit up.
“Don’t tell me,” Brandt said. “You dog! You made it to your Selection year! You didn’t choose anyone, did you? You son of a whore! I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t! You were always more interested in swords than ladies. I never understood what you were waiting for. Half the women in King’s Court threw themselves at your feet.”
Erec laughed.
“I don’t know what I’ve been waiting for either, my friend. But you are right, and here I am. I thought I might join your tournament.”
“Oh!” they both yelled out.
“Will you compete, then?” the Duke asked. “In that case, our games are already over! For who could defeat you in battle?”
“I can give him a run for his money!” Brandt called out. “In fact, last I remember, I was beating you on the Legion’s field.”
Erec laughed.
“Were you, then?” Erec asked.
“Yes, we were ten years old. And you didn’t stand a chance!” Brandt yelled.
Erec laughed.
“I haven’t beat you since then—but then again, no one has, so I don’t feel so bad. But I can always have a second chance now, can’t I?” Brandt asked with a laugh.
Brandt draped an arm around Erec and turned and led him through the crowd, on foot, towards the castle. The Duke and his men fell in beside them.
“Out of the way, you Ruffians!” Brandt called out good-naturedly. “We have a real member of The Silver here!”
Erec laughed. It was good to see his old friend again.
“You might be the better fighter, but I can still drink you under the table!” Brandt said as they went.
“We shall have to see about that,” Erec said.
“Your joining our competition shall be news indeed,” the Duke said. “Most of all for these ladies. Look at them. Every single one stares at you. After all, they’ve come from all corners of the Ring to find a husband—and you will be the most eligible of all!”
“At tonight’s feast,” Brandt added, “you will get to see them up close. They will all be there. You will have your choice. You will name one tonight, I hope! Yes, that will make our games much, much more interesting!”
As they continued through the crowd, past the dozens of women, past the other knights trying to catch a glimpse of their new competition, Erec was happy to be at his old friend’s side, and he felt very welcome. He looked forward to the night’s festivities, especially after a hard day’s ride. He also felt overwhelmed: he wasn’t sure he was ready to pick a bride tonight.
But as he passed one beautiful woman after the next, he could not help but feel that tonight would be the night when everything changed.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Godfrey sat before the bar in the small tavern early in the day, the drinks already getting to his head. This had been the worst week he could remember. First, there was his father’s death and funeral; then, there was his brother Gareth’s crowning ceremony. He needed a drink. After all, what better way to toast a brother he hated? What better way to say goodbye to a father who had hated and disapproved of him his entire life?
As Godfrey sat there, flanked on either side by two of his drinking fellows, Akorth, a towering, burly fat man past his prime, with a wild red beard, and Fulton, a thin, older man with a voice that was way too raspy and a face prematurely aged by drink, Godfrey found himself surprised by his own feelings of despair. He had always thought that the day his father died would be a day of rejoicing, the day that the oppressor had finally been lifted off his shoulders, the day that he was finally free to drink, to live his way of life, without repercussions. In a way, it was. He felt some sense of relief, of liberation, no longer having his father around to disapprove of him. He felt freer to spend his life as he wished, to drink all day long without fear of recrimination.
But at the same time, to his surprise, he felt an unexpected feeling of remorse. There must have been something deep within him, something he had suppressed, something even he didn’t realize, which bubbled up within him. He could hardly believe it, but he had to admit that a part of him was sad that his father was dead. A part of him actually wished he were still alive, and wished, more than anything, that he could have his approval. That just for one moment, his father would accept him for who he was, on his own terms. Even if he were nothing like him.
Oddly enough, Godfrey did not feel free, either. He had always expected that the day his father died, he would feel free to drink even more, to lock himself in the tavern with his friends. But now that he was dead, oddly, Godfrey no longer felt as much of a desire to drink. There was something inside him he had never experience before, some desire to go out and do something. Something responsible, he did not know what. It was weird, but there was a part of him that actually felt what it was like to be in his father’s shoes.