Chương 126: Sir Ricdine

That night, I tested the illusion amulet on Burr. I tucked it into the inside of the bridle, and as soon as it pressed tight against her skin, her fur rippled. It took on a slightly darker tone, and her mane changed to dark black, as did the bottom halves of her legs, giving her socks. I nodded. It'd work out for now. I pulled the pendant out, then patted her on the neck.

"That'll work wonderfully." My next order of business was with Alis. I rushed out across the tournament grounds, running until I found her helping clean the performers' uniforms in the stream.

"Thanks for the pendants," I whispered, making sure no one else was around.

"They work wonderfully."

"That's great to hear," she said with a smile.

"You're looking for the papers?"

"Yes, please." She reached into her cloak and retrieved a leather envelope.

"Authentic thegnage papers. As authentic as you can get." She grinned.

"Take a look through them, and make sure they're to your liking." I took the envelope gently, then opened it. The papers were on crisp parchment, but weathered slightly at the edges. A good sign—if they were too fresh, it'd be suspicious. She knew what she was doing. I read from the top, checking to see if there were any obvious signs of forgery. Anything to tell that Sir Ricdine wasn't an authentic thegn.

"I wrote that you were a wicca," Alis said.

"So when you don't use any Arts, as I hope you won't, it will not be suspicious."

"Your handwriting is perfect," I said.

"Hand-writing? Is there another sort of writing?"

"Uh, sorry. Soulstealerism."

"I have had lots of practice. Lots of time to practice. Dad always made me." I nodded, then flipped over the last page, where a wax seal and a signature lay. I gulped.

"Signed under the authority of the King and his family," I breathed.

"That's risky. That assumes I've met the king, and got basically knighted by him."

"It also includes provisions for his family," Alis said.

"He has a few lesser heirs scattered around the nation who could, in theory, grant thegnage. They are difficult to track down, if anyone even questioned it, which they won't. That's a perfect seal-signature." Instead of a round sigil, the royal crest was a single pillar with runes along its faces. It was the most unique sigil I'd ever seen.

"Is that what people mean when they mention the Great Pillar?" I breathed.

"Does it have something to do with the royal family?"

"The Great Pillar, or the World Pillar, is the great universal tree that connects all the realms together. It is said to run from the surface of our world, Stadthol—the foundation—straight up to the eye of Welkinmere, then beyond into the heavens." I nodded.

"Does that mean…there are other realms?"

"Stadthol is the home of Men," she said.

"Elves descended long ago from another realm, as did dwarves."

"And orcs?"

"Possibly orcs. It is also possible that the universal constant of vorghul causes them to exist wherever the dark can reach, challenging all of the cosmos' life and testing us." I pointed up at the sky, up at Welkinmere.

"How much do you guys know about…astronomy?"

"The writings of the old empire described it in greater detail, but…" Alis pointed directly at the gas giant's enormous white storm, or the Eye of Welkinmere.

"We believe Stadthol is tidally locked with Welkinmere, and we always see the Eye. It always points to the same place, a sacred site on the surface, where the Great Pillar begins."

"So you know a fair amount, then." I paused.

"Is Welkinmere one of the other realms?" Alis shook her head.

"Not likely. But we don't know for sure. When Path-walkers grow strong enough, stronger than Emerald, they make a pilgrimage to the base of the Great Pillar and ascend to higher realms beyond ours. Our world cannot support them anymore, and they must leave." I nodded. My mouth slipped open, contemplating the implications, and how much of that I should take as reality, versus how much of it was myth, but before I could say anything else, Alis said, "Are you done with the papers?"

I folded them up and slipped them back into the envelope.

"Yeah. I'm done." She held out her hand.

"Can I have them for a second?"

"Yeah, sure." I passed them back.

"Is there a final touch?" This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"No." She grinned.

"But, since I don't have a Great Warbrand on me…" She held the leather envelope like it was a sword.

"Kneel."

"Do we have to?" I sighed.

"It's not—""Do you have no sense of humour?" She giggled, then tapped my shoulder with the letter.

"Say the vows."

"What vows?"

"Courage, Honour, and Generosity. The three qualities all thegns must have.

'I vow to face the kingdom's enemies and fight them with all my strength. I vow to live a life of honour: to never break a promise, to protect those who cannot protect themselves, and to speak the truth. I vow to serve those I rule with a fair and just hand.'

" I repeated it back to her as best as she could. She tapped my shoulder with the letter, then my other shoulder, then poked me in the chest with it.

"There you go," she said with a grin.

"Sir Levi."

"Not really."

"Fine, Sir Ricdine. Now, take care of those papers. Use them quickly. You won't have much time before late entries are denied. But I must be leaving. It was a…good conversation. Friend?" I said, "If these work, I'll be eternally grateful. If not…" I looked her in the eye, serious as I could be. Technically, I'd just sworn an oath, and I wasn't in a promise breaking mood.

"If not, I won't take kindly to anyone who crosses me."

"They will work. The signature is perfect, as is the royal seal. Best of luck, Levi." ~ ~ ~ The next morning, Lord Ceonwin let me disappear and skip my squiring work. I took Burr out into the fields beyond the camp, burdened with my new armour set and a tent I bought from a Greenway merchant within the village. Once I'd ridden far enough that I couldn't see the castle and the tournament grounds anymore, I stopped, trotted offroad, and stopped in a sheltered ditch, out of sight. Then I unpacked the armour.

It was similar to my normal set. The chainmail hauberk was a little longer, and it seemed like Shatter had done his best to weather it, as if someone had worn it in a few battles. A few tears, a few rusty rings. The scale mail was cheap and unornamented as well, but the scales were pointed at their tips, marking them as obviously non-Dupe armour. Our scales had rounded points. The pauldrons were large enough to protect parts of my chest, which would help me joust while I was still a Steel—up against Silvers.

But it would be deceiving. I was high up in the Steel tier, and my average stats were higher than the normal Dupe—or Path-walker—at my stage. Since I wouldn't be using any Arts, Presence wouldn't matter all that much. Lastly, I pulled on my new helmet. It didn't offer any enhanced stats, and I noticed the slight dip in Perception, but it was protective enough, and with the brass inlays around the eyes, it wouldn't immediately give me away as a Dupe.

I didn't attach the chainmail that hung over my mouth yet, and instead, I opted to tuck the illusion pendant into my shirt, hiding it below layers of chainmail. If it got hit by a lance, though, the last thing I needed was it breaking. Instead, I shifted it around my back, letting it press against my spine. The illusion still held. I attached Burr's illusion pendant as well, then swung up onto her saddle and rode back toward the tournament grounds.

I was going to need a faster way to change, soon, but once I set up 'Sir Ricdine's' tent, it would be easy enough to store his gear there. As for his horse? I could pretend to keep Burr with me in my tent, as an eccentric out-country thegn might.

The second problem was that she would be gone from the castle stables, but my excuse on jousting days would be that I was taking her out for a ride around the castle grounds to grow my potential bond and to get better at my horseback riding—which Lord Ceonwin would excuse me for, whenever I did actually have a match. Riding on Burr's back, I entered the tournament grounds, holding my new shield on one arm and a spear in the other. My new shield was red with a black rose in the center.

It didn't need to be my permanent crest, but it was just enough to be convincing. Shatter had scuffed it up for me on purpose, making it look older and weathered. I passed between the tents, then approached the registration booth—a rickety structure just outside the main structure of the lists. It was early in the morning, and not many were out and about yet, but a few thegns patrolled the lists, preparing for their joust. In the early phases of the tournament, jousts happened all throughout the week.

When I reached the booth, I stayed on Burr's back. Sure, I wasn't used to acting as a thegn, but I had to project that knowledge now. I pulled off my helmet, then declared, "I wish to enter the joust." The two non-Dupe workers manning the booth, both Lord Ceonwin's servants, laughed. One of them was a low-tier Path-walker, judging by the steel badge hanging from his neck. The other was just a mortal.

"It is the second bracket still, correct?" I asked, making my voice slightly deeper on purpose, so it didn't sound like a Dupe's voice.

"I'm within my rights to request entry—upon a challenge." The mortal worker pulled out a thick rulebook, then began flipping through the pages. Meanwhile, the Path-walker said, "You, sir. What is your tier?"

"Steel." Both of the workers glanced at me skeptically. Finally, the one with the rulebook said, "Let's see your papers. Prove your thegnage, sir." I reached into Burr's saddle pouch, produced the leather envelope, and tossed it down on the counter.

"Sir Ricdine." The Path-walked looked them over, eyes drifting cautiously down the parchment. My hands drifted to the reins, ready to snap them and bolt if needed. I could get out of here, ditch my armour, and return as Levi, and no one would be the wiser. A few seconds passed. I tapped my foot inside my boot. Finally, the worker reached the final page. He raised his eyebrows at the royal seal on the bottom, then said, "Sir Ricdine of the Western Foothills, then. A new thegn, looking to prove your worth?

You don't even have a helmet plume."

"Yes, that is me," I said, keeping my voice steady. The worker with the rulebook shut it, then said, "It checks out. Sir Ricdine may challenge a contestant to take their place in the tournament. It must be a duel on foot, with whichever weapon the individual thegn prefers. I see you don't have a Great Warbrand, but alas…the out-country thegns are growing poorer and poorer by the year." I nodded, having researched that rule myself.

"That is acceptable. Is there anyone who will challenge me?" Both of the thegns who had been patrolling the lists glanced at me. They'd been listening, probably drawn closer by the laughter. One, a thegn with a purple cloak and a purple plume, approached. He said, "I will duel this young man. Perhaps teach him a lesson in honour and forethought. He should have timed his journey better." I didn't think I'd have any trouble finding someone for this duel, and I'd been right.

Who wouldn't want to show off against a Steel? But I wasn't going to make it easy on him. I dismounted, grabbed my spear, then said, "I'm ready."