Part 13 (1/2)

”Do you yield?” asked Umbrage. His voice was strong, his posture firm, and there was absolutely no question in any witnesses' minds that if the answer was anything other than an affirmative, Umbrage could and would kill him where he stood.

Of course, Coreolis said the only possible thing, given the circ.u.mstances. ”Aye.”

And oh, the roar that went up then, and oh the cheers, and oh the huzzahs, and never, but never, had there been any hero of the lists like Sir Umbrage. As for me, I still couldn't believe it. At a time like that, I should have been looking at Mace. I should have been smiling, seeming quite smug, perhaps rubbing my fingers together to indicate coins between them, drinking in his fury. But instead I couldn't take my eyes off Umbrage in his triumph.

And Umbrage looked at me.

And he did not seem the least bit happy.

Chapter 11.

I took a great deal of time with t.i.tan that evening, cleaning him and was.h.i.+ng him down. The big fellow had seen more action in that one afternoon than he likely had in the past several years combined. In the distance I could hear the sound of revels, for there was great partying going on in the main banquet hall of the castle. I chose to absent myself from it. Somehow I was not in the mood. took a great deal of time with t.i.tan that evening, cleaning him and was.h.i.+ng him down. The big fellow had seen more action in that one afternoon than he likely had in the past several years combined. In the distance I could hear the sound of revels, for there was great partying going on in the main banquet hall of the castle. I chose to absent myself from it. Somehow I was not in the mood.

After I settled t.i.tan down, I started across the main courtyard. It had been such a hive of industry that afternoon that it was almost frightening, the silence which lay upon it now. The only noise, aside from the celebrations in the castle, was the steady tap-tap of my staff. It was then that I heard more footsteps behind me. I suspected the ident.i.ty of those behind me before I even turned to verify it.

Sure enough, Mace Morningstar and a handful of his cronies were there. The moon was only just beginning to wane in its cycle, so there was plenty of light for me to see them. None of them looked happy. No, I amend that: They looked happy in the way that someone does when they are looking forward to making someone else unhappy. They carried no weapons except the customary daggers tucked in their belts. Chances were they didn't need any.

Remember, I was not completely without physical resources. I could handle myself quite well . . . under certain circ.u.mstances. Against a half-dozen knights-in-training, however, any one of whom could likely give me great difficulty . . . well, those were other circ.u.mstances again.

Nevertheless, there was nothing to be lost in trying to bluff the matter through. ”Ah. Mace. Here to give me my winnings?”

His mouth was upturned in a grim smile, but the smile did not extend to his eyes. ”We know what you did, Apropos.”

”Oh? What would that be?”

I waited. No response was immediately forthcoming, verifying for me that they in fact had no clue what I had done. They were on a fis.h.i.+ng expedition, hoping I might panic into blurting out some sort of admission. They did not know me very well.

”Morningstar . . . are you planning to renege on our wager?” I asked coolly.

”Not at all, Apropos, not at all. Here.” He removed a purse from his belt and held it up. He jingled it lightly. ”Would you care to count it?”

I bowed slightly. ”Since we are all gentlemen, I am more than happy to take your word, along with your purse.”

”Indeed.” He lofted it through the air with a casual underhand toss, and I caught it easily. ”There. I have given you the agreed upon funds.”

”Yes. You have. No one could deny it.” I bowed once more and turned to walk away.

”And now,” continued Morningstar, sounding quite cheery about it, ”we're going to take it back.”

I turned back to them. ”You're going to what?”

”Take it back. We made no promise that we would not, did we, gentlemen?” There were nods and grunts of confirmation.

”But that's . . . that's . . .”

”Dishonorable?”

”Yes!”

He took what was, for him, a short step, but it brought him much closer than I would have liked. ”And what care does one such as you have for honor, except where it serves your ends?”

It was a valid question. The answer, of course, you already know. But I hardly saw the need to share my philosophies with Morningstar. Nor did I see it worth getting the snot kicked out of me just to hold on to some winnings. I could always get more winnings. Teeth, on the other hand, would be somewhat more difficult to replace.

”I've better things to do, Morningstar, than bandy words with you. If it means so much to you . . .” I tossed the money back. I admit it annoyed the h.e.l.l out of me. It seemed that all I ever did around the d.a.m.ned castle was give back money that was rightfully mine. I knew by that point that within the next day or so, I was going to take my leave of the place. My goal had been at least to depart in financially a superior position to what I'd been in before. Faced with the clear vexation of the other squires, however, my goals had reconfigured. Now I was aspiring simply to get out of there in one piece.

Even that drastically downscaled aspiration, however, seemed doomed to failure. Because Morningstar tossed the purse to the ground, making less and less effort to confine his anger. ”This isn't about money, you peasant b.a.s.t.a.r.d. It's about respect.”

”Oh. I thought it was about money. Thank you for clarifying that, Mace. Good evening to you, then.”

I started to walk away then, but Morningstar was right behind me. He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck. I squeezed tight on the handle of my staff and the blade snapped out of the end, but as I whirled to bring it around, he knocked it effortlessly from my grasp. I had underestimated not only his anger, but his strength. The staff clattered to the ground.

”That trick played well against Sir Justus, but I've had the warning of it,” said Mace. ”You've had this coming for a long time, wh.o.r.e's son.”

”I'd rather be the son of a wh.o.r.e than a spoiled arrogant cretin like you,” I shot back. If I was going to be speaking with fewer teeth in the future, at least I wanted to make my last words with the full set memorable.

The others shouted encouragement, closing on us, and then there was a very very loud clearing of a throat from behind us. We looked around.

Sir Umbrage was standing there. Just standing there. His arms were folded. His sword hung from his hip. He said nothing. I hadn't even heard him approach, although naturally with all the shouting he would have been able to move with relative stealth. He was in formal attire, dressed mostly in gray with black trim.

”This is not your affair, good sir knight,” said Morningstar. ”I believe that you were as duped as the rest of us, and not a party to this b.a.s.t.a.r.d's trickery, whatever form it took.”

He said nothing still. Just stood there.

”So good evening to you then, as we conclude our . . . discussions,” Morningstar continued.

No reply. No movement. Still more silence. ”Sir Umbrage, with all respect, it would be best . . .” Mace's newest statement got no more response than the previous ones had. Just more stony silence.

For a long time, no one said anything. There was something indefinable in the air. Even the crickets that had been chirping earlier ceased so as to hear better.

Finally, Morningstar-who had been holding me backward by the tunic-slowly righted me. He dusted his hands off, looked as if he was about to say something more to the knight, and then apparently thought better of it. He backed away, as did the others, pausing only to pick up the purse that he had thrown down. Then he extended a finger to me angrily and said, ”This is not over, Apropos.”

For the first time, Umbrage spoke. ”Yes,” he said in a tone that did not invite disagreement. ”It is.”

There was nothing for them to say in reply. Moments later they had retired toward the castle, there to join in the mirth and merriment that was in full bloom within the castle's walls.

I picked up my fallen staff, turned to Umbrage, and started to say, ”Sir, I thank you for-” But I didn't even get that far before Umbrage's right fist landed squarely in my face. I felt a crack that I knew all too well; my nose was once again broken. I staggered, but managed to keep myself righted by clinging to my staff, even as the world spun around me. I closed my eyes and that was even worse, so I opened them again and fought to keep myself steady, staring rigidly at the ground and trying to keep myself upright. As soon as my vision began to straighten, I looked at Sir Umbrage once more. His arm came toward me once more and I flinched automatically, certain he was going to strike me a second time. But instead he was holding a cloth. ”Here,” he said. ”Stop the blood flow.”

I did so. The blood was indeed coming fairly profusely from my nose. I moaned softly as I pressed against it, for the break was fresh and the pain in applying pressure to it was fearsome. But I did so nonetheless until I got it under control.

”Why did you do that?” I asked tentatively.

”Because you deserved it.” He sighed. ”You've doomed and d.a.m.ned us both, boy. Well . . . there's no help for it now. Come with me, and I'll explain it to you.” Without another word he turned and walked away, and naturally I had no choice but to follow.

Once inside his chambers, Umbrage secured the door so that we would not be disturbed. From far away, I could still hear the noises of merrymaking. I almost felt as if they existed in another world altogether, which I could only observe from a distance while forever wondering what it would be like to be a part of it.