The Knight of Honor (The Arising Evil, Book 1)

by Ulysses Troy

  “Then why don’t you simply ask her to leave?” Conrad asked.

  “What? You really don’t have any idea about Lady Paquin, do you? The woman can make my entire household starve with one word coming out of her cursed mouth.” Robert poured more wine into his glass. This time more than the last one. “She is the most powerful woman in Northern Baltaire. She has mines of diamond and gold to profit from, vast farming areas to feed an enormous army, and countless friends in the capital in her pocket. She is one powerful woman, one that I cannot dare to mess with!” Robert said. “You see, forging powerful alliances is not always the best choice for a Baron.”

  “I guess everyone has their own kind of problems.” Somewhere else, a man just put his life at risk by trying to cut a tree from his lord’s forbidden forest without permission, only to build a roof to hide his family from the gathering storm. And here, you, a noble Baron, are complaining about a power struggle with your mother-in-law, to see who will have the last say over where to shit in a stone castle at the end of the day. Baltaire is truly a Kingdom of justice.

  “Yes, my friend, yes. Sometimes I wonder why I didn’t come to the Bralon as a poor fucker whose only concern would be eating his fill.” Baron Robert took a sip from his wine to forget about his beloved mother-in-law, again. “Ah, that would be much simpler and easier. I would be hungry most of the time, and even a cold could take my worthless life, yet I would be at ease. And believe me, that’s what I am looking for right now.” Robert drank more and more as Conrad tried to change the subject to free the man from his heartbreaking grief, at least for a moment. “What do you think about the Contest?” He asked. “Do you think Baron de Gannát has a chance?”

  “Did you lose your fucking mind!” Robert laughed again, but this time louder. “We are talking about Ser Evrard de Wellon, the famous The Black Knight who took at least ten Vanheimians’ head on his own back at Armand; he can eat Edmond alive for breakfast.” Yes, probably. And it is not good for the young Baron.

  “The Black Knight, I still cannot get why they call him that?”

  “Because his fame had to get him a damn nickname, and I guess people just ran out of ideas,” Robert said. “They may call him The Black Knight but trust me, his cloak is grey.”

  “Just as any other man.” Because men with white and black cloaks would only exist in tales. In the world we live in, everyone is just a different tone of the same color. “Is Ser Evrard here because of his duty to his house, to preserve its honor, just like the Baron?”

  Robert looked at the stage for a time, then talked. “Ser Evrard? I doubt that. Evrard doesn’t believe in such things as honor.”

  “But as far as I heard from the people about him, his cousin Baron Antonin does.”

  Robert pulled himself back. “Do you really believe Evrard would make that much of way from castle Wellon to here, just because Antonin ordered him to? His cousin cannot make The Black Knight do a thing he doesn’t want to do, even though he pledged his sword to his service.”

  “People can change their minds, especially after a convincing speech.”

  “The Black Knight can be the best of them all, but the House of Wellon has more than a dozen good swords, and I bet at least half of them can beat Baron Edmond,” Robert said looking at Conrad’s face. “I don’t think Antonin tried to convince him that hard.”

  “Then why join the contest?”

  Baron de Lothiré smiled while looking at someone behind Conrad. “For a woman, of course. No matter how disciplined or fierce he is, The Black Knight is still a man. And a man can easily fall for beauty, especially for one like hers.” He pointed at a woman on the other side of the tavern with his right forefinger. Even without turning back and looking at the woman Baron Robert pointed at, Conrad knew who this woman was. Because there was only one woman with that kind of astonishing beauty in all LaPellás plains. “Lady Chanel.”

  “Yes. You can call me everything you want, but you must give me the credit. I am fucking good at reading people. Thanks to the father who forced me to attend all of his shitty meetings with the nobility, starting from the age of five. If a noble makes a move with an incomprehensible motive, either you are not smart enough to understand his motive or . . .”

  “Or?”

  “ . . . or it is a much more human one.”

  Conrad drank wine. While its taste spread in his mouth, he asked. “So, you say Evrard wants to earn the Lady’s love?”

  “Yes, I think he hopes to. But this little game is no good for him. I know women like Chanel; she is very similar to my precious mother-in-law. She is a dangerous woman who wouldn’t make a single move without a goddamn interest behind it.” Baron de Lothiré took a sip from his wine. “She uses Evrard.”

  “For what?” Conrad asked.

  “Don’t you see?” The Baron finished his glass one more time. “All of this clowning makes good money, especially to the host of the contest. By having Evrard take part in the Contest, she also involved the Black Knight, whom many bored nobles came here to watch with their own eyes. The feud between the two houses is not important enough to attract a big crowd, but if one of the fighters is the deadly Black Knight . . . then it’s a different case.”

  “So, as far as I understand, Baron de Gannát is the only one here who cares about chivalry,” Conrad said with a reproachful tone, knitting his eyebrows.

  “Do you think noble knights with their expensive shiny armor, glorious horses to carry them, and endless servants to scratch their goddamned asses still live with virtue? These days, even a shitty peasant has more chivalry and value than the noblest knight. I don’t know if it wasn’t the case back in the past, but now chivalry is just a fucking lie among the nobles to fool the folk. A mask that has been used by them to hide their true and terrifying nature.”

  “But still, there are those among the nobility like Baron Edmond de Gannát. Men who still truly believe in honor and chivalry.”

  “They are nothing but fools, blinded by the tales of old and lies of smarter men,” Robert said. “As he was a squire to my uncle once, I know the young Baron well enough, and I hope he will come to his senses before bringing the doom upon himself. He tries to act like a true Knight, but men like him mostly end up being used by the actual players. He is inexperienced; maybe he will understand the true nature of the world one day, but by the look of it, he won’t live that long.”

  “Fools? Some may call him an idealist rather than a fool.” Someone like me.

  “We live in a world of bitter truth, where wars are waged not for faith and virtue, but for money and material benefits. Where everyone thinks they are after the right cause, yet none are. Where words are nothing but pointless utterances, and oaths are long forgotten. Oaths full of lies that were only made to further other interests. I see that the young Baron of Gannadár is quite eager to be idealistic but being an idealist in a world that is far, far away from ideal is nothing but sheer foolishness.” Robert continued to drink. “I wonder if it runs in the family or if it’s just him,” he said. “I only had the honor of meeting his mother, Lady Jennefer. A smart woman, for sure. It’s a pity her son did not inherit that from her. Edmond is more like his grandfather, late Geoffrey de Gannát, the old Baron of Gannadár, but somehow even dumber than him. Geoffrey . . . he was similar to Edmond, just not obsessed with virtue and heroism like his grandson, but with the love of a woman who was long dead.”

  “And his father?”

  “As far as I know, his father died in an accident years ago. Fell off his horse, if I remember correctly. Truly an unfortunate incident. I did not meet with him either, but heard he was a decent man. Maybe if he were alive, he could take care of his son.” Robert took a sip from his wine. “After his death, as his only child, Edmond became the primary heir of his Grandfather Baron Geoffrey. And when Geoffrey gave his last breath in his dying bed, Edmond became the Baron, and the feud was passed down to him.”

  “He thinks he is responsible for his Grandfather’s deeds
and mistakes.” Conrad knew what it felt like having to carry the weight of responsibility at such a young age. His experience was nowhere similar to Edmond’s, yet much harsher and more ruthless. That dark day back in Battum.

  “Lady Chanel,” Conrad said to the Baron. “I had the honor of meeting her ladyship earlier.”

  “Oh, of course, you did. It would be such foolishness to expect Lady Chanel not to examine you more closely once this fame of yours had spread all over the land. I bet she tried to read you, to see if she could find a proper use for you in her schemes and little games.”

  “I knew the Lady to be a shrewd woman, but you are displaying her to be a beautiful demon.”

  “No, she is just a human being, just in a world where humans are worse than the demons,” Robert said. “You are underestimating her ladyship. There are many women with power all across the Baltaire like her, yet none of them are quite as successful as she is in the game of shadows.” Robert drank some more wine. “Let me explain it to you. So, why do you think her ladyship wants to organize such a pompous feast? Spending her wealth and giving her precious and limited time? For resolving the feud, or simply amusing the folk?”

  “She makes a weighty profit from all this mess. You have already said that.” Conrad said.

  “No, my friend, it is more than that. Curse me if she cares a hang about ending the feud. I think her Ladyship wants to deepen the feud between the two houses. I bet she has a thing for Knights fighting in duels of honor.” Robert burst into a laugh. “As she tried to flirt with Edmond, too.”

  “And he didn’t get it?”

  “No, he is not that stupid. Chanel invited him to her table for some private time, but he just ignored her because of his chivalric code or something like that. The boy still thinks he must live like a damned monk, just like the knights in the tales. Anyway, it is good for him to ignore the lady.”

  “Why?”

  “Because as far as I heard, Lady de Gannát is trying hard to arrange a wedding between Edmond and one of the Count’s daughters. It doesn’t matter which one it will be, but I hope it will be the youngest one for Edmond’s sake.”

  “I suppose the youngest is the fairest of them all., Conrad said, putting the wineglass on the table.

  “No, actually she is the ugliest; but among the Count’s daughters, only she can put that kind of brain to work.” Robert smiled again. “Someone, my friend, must get the young Baron of Gannadár to understand he does not live in a fairytale, but in a dog-eat-dog world. And there is no one better than a woman to make sure this will happen, at least to a man.”

  “And Lady Chanel, she is organizing this contest for only the sweet coins and important connections it will bring to her. I wonder how much she will gain from this,” he continued after drinking a considerable amount of wine. “Also, it is not a secret that Chanel is nowadays seeing her suitors and you have to be an idiot if you think there are only a few of them. A young and incredibly beautiful Lady who rules a goddamned Barony like Chanel easily attracts knights, Barons, and even counts to her door.”

  “I suppose her beauty is the main reason?”

  “For the fools, it is. But the smart ones also desire to control the prosperous lands of LaPellás through her. After his brother, Baron Jodeph de LaPellás, passed away due to a ‘mysterious accident’, his toddler son became the new Baron. As her young nephew’s heir, Chanel is next in line to the Barony. Who can blame her or her new husband if the little the Baron accidentally falls off a cliff one day? In an accident similar to the one that had happened to his father?”

  “You sound as if you have been thinking about that possibility,” Conrad said with a disgusted expression on his face.

  “I could if I hadn’t a damn wife and the support of the House of Paquin! Likewise, I don’t have a brother or cousin to make him try to marry Chanel, and my little son is barely a one-year-old. She would not marry a Lothiré, anyway. People say she has set her eyes on a much bigger prize.”

  “Jeron de LaVos, the count’s firstborn son and heir?”

  “Even though Jeron would want that, no. People say she wants to marry the Duke’s son.”

  “Duke? Pierre de Ardisé?”

  “Yes. The only duke in the Kingdom and also the most powerful man in all of Baltaire after the king.”

  “For a moment, I thought she would try to marry a prince.”

  “Oh, trust me, friend, if she could, she wouldn’t stop for a second, but she is too low even to marry the Duke’s son. Her ambition is far beyond your imagination.”

  “You present her as the only dangerous woman in Bralon, but you have such a mother-in-law with you too.”

  “You are right.” Robert said with a cheerful tone. “We, men, are smart and capable, just not against the women.” He laughed as he reached for another glass of wine.

  “And what about Ser Evrard? He should be among the Lady’s suitors if your assumptions about him are true.”

  “Chanel would never marry him, and he knows that,” Robert said. “He can be more skilled than any other man, but Ser Evrard is still a landless knight, cousin to a wealthy Baron at best. Of course, men like Evrard can jump through the ranks and nobility, it is very likely for him to be honest. Who can’t say if he won’t go to save a King’s life one day, rewarded with vast lands and fancy titles during the process? But I doubt Chanel would wait for him to rise.”

  “So, this love between the two is rather one-sided?”

  “Women like Chanel do not fall in love. They only make themselves believe that they fell in love, for their interests.”

  “My Baron is quite knowledgeable about these topics.”

  “People with power, my friend. I had to live my whole life among them, and at the end of the day, they are all the same, just like my late father said to me after the end of his one of fucking meetings.”

  “I wonder how many of the nobles are as much aware of Lady Chanel’s true nature as you are?”

  “Well, not many. A fancy title, a dozen cauldrons of gold, and an army of people to crop your large lands does not make you smart, unfortunately. Yet the ones with functional brains, at least higher than average, can figure it out pretty easily,” Robert said. “And among them, there are those who are aware of Lady Chanel’s little intrigues and ruthless side, such that some even gossip about her true intentions. Such as how she conspires with the Vanheimians of the North.”

  “Do you think it is true?” Oh, so Vanheimians again? I am not surprised, to be sure.

  “It is difficult to say. Vanheimians, everyone sees them lurking in the shadows these days, even though it’s been a decade since the Battle of The Eight Days occurred. When the wise King Balthasar wed his sister to the Lion King a decade ago, an age of peace had started between the two Kingdoms. Vanheimian aggression had stopped and possible bloodshed had been avoided. The two royal dynasties were relatives and the rivalry had come to an end.”

  “I would believe these words if they were not spitted out from your mouth,” Conrad said as Robert smiled mischievously.

  “Well, my friend, I’ve just said what the people want to hear all over the land. Yet, the wise men like me and you, we all know this is not the case at all. However, peace reigns right now, so why not enjoy it, even though it won’t last long?” He raised his glass of wine. “Cheers! For an age of peace when we don’t have to kill goatfuckers for the favor of higher goatfuckers, on the side of other goatfuckers! An age where men can live without getting their heads chopped off by goatfuckers and women can breathe without the fear of being raped, again by goatfuckers!” Seeing that Conrad had not joined his cheers, Robert emptied the glass and laughed. “So, you don’t want peace?”

  “I want peace, just one that comes without wine. I have already drunk enough.”

  A fat nobleman with a face as red as a newly born pig came nearby, and Conrad had a strong impression that he was also drunk, maybe more than the Baron of Lothiré.

  “What bullshit are you grumbling
again Lothiré? I should have never wed your damned cousin; that way I would see your ugly face less often!”

  “Goatfuckers Turon, goatfuckers as you are!” Robert burst into a laugh, joined by the other nobleman.

  “Then to the Goatfuckers . . .” he raised his glass of wine to the air. “ . . . if they are half as good as me in bedding your cousin!”

  “Hahaha haha!” After the fat noble drank all the wine in the glass, Robert grabbed the arm of a servant who was passing nearby. “Pour this man some wine!” I sometimes question the decisions that lead me into these situations and conversations. Maybe I should have been a farmer myself, much better than witnessing these things.

  After the fat nobleman had gone to continue his search for more wine, Robert turned his attention towards Conrad again.

  “So, why don’t you drink much?”

  “Goatfuckers, that’s why I don’t drink as much as you do.” So, I won’t laugh at a nasty joke about my cousin.

  After the other noble left the table, Robert turned to Conrad again. “About Lady Chanel . . . she is dirtier than you probably give her credit for,” he explained. “For example, the accidental death of the Lady’s brother Baron Jodeph is a very suspicious one. When something strange happens, something you don’t know who has instructed, look at who benefits most from it in the first place. And to be honest, Chanel was the only one to benefit from her Brother’s death.”

  “Kinslaying . . . it’s a serious crime, and also a serious accusation to make. I hope you have good evidence to support your theory.”

  “Theory? I bet most of the nobles have already figured it out, at least the ones with functional heads,” he said. “Lady Caselle, the widow of Baron Jodeph, was wed to a Baron whose lands are far away in haste, even though she would have preferred to stay with her son.” Robert drank wine and offered some to Conrad, but he refused. “Chanel was quick to find her a suitable suitor. Too quick, perhaps, as if she already knew her precious sister-in-law would become a widow.” Robert smiled while Conrad was greatly disgusted. “In a few days, her ladyship seized the rule of the Barony, a rule that can only be rivaled by a toddler five years old, who is already dependent on her. Chanel, my friend, is a master player in a game you even don’t know about.”