The grey stallion pawed at the ground and reared his head. Balian loosed the reins, gave a slight kick and the warhorse was off. A low rumble echoed across the plain as Tyre’s hooves pounded the soil and threw a steady stream of mud out behind them. Balian drew his shield tight and lowered his lance across the saddle pointed toward his target. The lance struck true but shattered. Splintered wood rained down on horse and rider. Balian lost his balance in the saddle as he had not expected the lance to break. He struggled to raise his shield in time for the inevitable return hit he knew was coming. The blow glanced off the top of his shield and slammed into the side of his helm. The world exploded into pain and a metallic roar. He felt time stop as his body left the saddle and the grass beneath him traveled past. Slowly the grass grew closer until time resumed and the ground rushed at Balian like a giant’s fist, dealing him a blow even more painful than the last.
When he finally opened his eyes the blue sky spun. Balian noticed two
men approaching side by side, each with a greatsword strapped to their backs. He tried to move but none of his limbs would respond. The two men stood over him. Balian could not see their faces clearly but they seemed to be smirking. The two men converged into one and the face became that of Keston Gariss. Keston grasped Balian’s arm and pulled him to his feet.
“Not so fast,” moaned Balian. He lifted off his helm and shook his head to get the remaining stars out of his eyes. The crossbeam of the quintain still spun with its target shield on one side and a bag of soil hanging from a short rope on the other. Several idle workers watched from the walls of Oleg’s trading post. Balian thought he could see some of them beaming with pride at their completed construction project that had just knocked the young lord from his horse.
When was the last time I was downed by a sack of dirt? I am not myself. Too many distractions, too much ranging, and not enough tilting.
Keston’s smirk had not disappeared, “You are lucky. Your helm looks fine…it seems your head absorbed most of the hit.” Balian cast a scowl as Keston continued, “So what do you think?”
“Splendid device,” Balian responded through gritted teeth. “The practice lances could use some work though. They are supposed to shatter to save a man or horses life, not when you tag a target shield.”
Keston shrugged, “I don’t think there are any crafters here that have made practice lances before. You are lucky you have what you do.”
Balian bent backwards to remove the kinks in his back, “No General Gariss, Lord Commander of the army of the Greenbelt, it is you who is lucky. You’ll need more lances once you recruit some decent riders.”
Keston looked as if he was about to protest again but Balian cut him off. “Look, we’ve talked about this. You’ve led more men than me; you’ve handled the training of this garrison at Oleg’s well. What do I know except how to fall off a horse?” Balian attempted a laugh but it ended in a grunt of pain. Keston looked as if he was about to begin his protest again but stopped himself. Balian continued, “How do you think I feel? Fencing our enemies with a silver tongue when I would rather being riding them down. We should both just look straight forward and do our duty.”
As Balian whistled to his grazing mount, Keston nodded towards the walls of the trading post, “Would you consider that tiefling someone you should be riding down?” Balian cocked an eyebrow as Keston continued, “I have not spoken much with the tiefling. If I didn't know any better it seems he knows the bandits in the area a little too well. Though he's good in a fight, and a family man, what with that daughter of his. He dotes on her. Though I can't say I trust the look of the fellow."
Balian continued to wave his stallion over but Tyre ignored him. “Keston, I would only admit this to you, but that dirty…vagabond of a creature has already given his daughter more than my father ever gave me. The Stagslayer nearly took the fort himself, all for that little girl. I am beginning to wonder if that demonspawn and I are mirror opposites of each other, only what he looks like on the outside is what I have riding me on the inside. They say a tiefling soul oozes evil, but from the actions I’ve seen he gets results. His soul may yet be good. However I know for certain I have a murderous creature riding with me. In short though, I trust him.”
Keston attempted a reassuring smile as he watched Balian absently scratch through his tunic at the wound that never seemed to completely heal. Balian winced as Keston clapped him on the shoulder. “Well Lord Balian, I have duties I am neglecting…”
“Wait Keston,” Balian took a quick look around to make sure nobody had ventured within earshot. “About the young baron…”
Keston sighed and turned hesitantly, “No offense Balian, your sorcerer friend, he is a charismatic young man, and talented, but he has seen far too few winters I think. He will need a steady hand to guide him if he is to be ruler."
Balian frowned and looked out across the plain. A solitary rider appeared on the horizon. Tyre stopped grazing and gave a loud snort that was answered in turn by a whinny from the approaching horse. “I agree Keston. He has a good heart and seems well intentioned, but I’ve seen nothing so far that would inspire men to die for him. I don’t know if he understands what will be expected of him, what he will have to become.”
Keston shrugged, “Well if it is only he that we have to pin our hopes on…” and left his thought unfinished as he took another glance at the approaching rider and turned back walking towards the trading post. Balian and Tyre remained alone watching the horse and rider as they strode up the low hill down the road.
Although Keston was now out of earshot, Balian answered his thought with barely a whisper, “No. There is another…"
