That evening, after leaving the wooded valley they camped in a large, grassy field by the road. Many watch fires were lit, over which fresh meat was roasted. These northern lands were sparsely inhabited by people, and wildlife was everywhere. With a dozen Rangers to hunt for them, fresh meat was easy to come by.
Lannon, Vannas, and the Divine Shield were gathered around one fire, along with Furlus (who seemed to consume more meat than the rest of the Divine Shield put together). The mood was festive-almost as if they were going to some grand celebration rather than war with an ancient enemy.
"We have a bard with us somewhere," said Furlus, wiping grease from his beard. "Bazil Bearpaw. Shall I summon him for some entertainment? Tonight, we will not speak of anything concerning our mission. Tonight we celebrate."
Trenton chewed at a small piece of meat and took a sip of water. "I don't like Bazil. I find him quite annoying."
"You would!" said Furlus, scowling at the Investigator. "No sense of humor. None at all. When is the last time you had a good laugh?"
Trenton glowered at the Grey Dwarf, but said nothing.
"He's a fine bard," said Shennen. "I'll go and find him." The Blue Knight rose, a lean shadow in the firelight. "I want to scout around a bit, anyway."
"Relax, Shennen," said Furlus. "Sit, and have some food and drink. No threat exists here, amongst all of these Knights."
Hesitantly, Shennen did as Furlus ordered, his face sullen. He grabbed an apple from a bowl and crunched into it, yet his eyes gazed restlessly beyond the firelight.
"What's bothering you, my friend?" Furlus asked.
"I don't know," said Shennen. "I feel like something is watching us-perhaps from the night sky."
Furlus waved his hand dismissively. "It could be a Blood Legion spy. What does it matter? We're going to war. Let them spy on us all they want and prepare a thousand ambushes. Our own spies will guide us through to victory. They want war, they expect war, and war is what they will get!"
Shennen nodded. "True enough. But whatever I am sensing still troubles me. I…I have been on edge since Willan's death."
Furlus bowed his head, a look of pity on his face. "You need to quit blaming yourself for that. Both you and Willan thought it was the right choice. I might have made the same choice. It's just the way of things."
"I care not to speak of this," said Shennen, his face reddening a bit. "Especially in front of the Squires. I shouldn't have brought up the subject."
"Then shut your mouth and eat," said Furlus.
"I need my mouth open to eat," said Shennen, managing a smile. He seized a flask of ale. "Let's celebrate then. Where's that bard?"
Furlus chuckled and patted Shennen on the back. "Hey Bard!" he bellowed. "Get over here!"
"Why don't we have a duel?" said Jerret, standing up. "We could fashion some wooden swords from sticks and have a contest."
"Predictable request," said Trenton, "from a Squire who doesn't seem to know how to take a break from training."
Jerret shrugged. "Aren't Squires supposed to train?"
"In a reasonable fashion, yes," said Trenton. "Not like some obsessed fool. I think you've let this Divine Shield business overcome your common sense. I should give you a duel and leave you with a healthy bruise for your troubles."
Jerret rolled his eyes. "Anyway, who wants to have a duel-other than a Green Knight who would obviously be too much for me to handle?"
Trenton sneered and mumbled "Coward."
Jerret winced at the insult, but said nothing. It was clear that in spite of his new confidence, Jerret feared the Investigator. Aside from being a Green Knight, Trenton also harbored the bizarre ability to transform into a raging wolf monster.
"Jerret isn't a coward, Trenton," said Furlus, slapping the ground. His grey eyes, set beneath his drooping brows, twinkled with amusement. "Look at him standing there fearlessly, ready for combat! Someone should give him his duel. What about you, Jace? I think you could use some practice."
"I would rather eat, smoke my pipe, and go to sleep," said Jace, yawning. "So count me out of any duels."
Vannas grinned. "I wouldn't mind a duel. What about you, Lannon?"
Lannon shrugged. "I'm not much for that sort of thing."
"I think it's a good idea," said Furlus, winking. He called some Rangers over and sent them to gather sticks from a nearby stretch of woods.
Jerret tied his long blond hair back in a ponytail and then stretched his muscles, grinning. "I'll take on anywhere here, including the Knights!" He glanced nervously at Trenton. "Except for the Green Knights, of course."
Shennen laughed. "So you would battle me as well, Jerret? I'm not yet a Green Knight. And how do you think you would fare?"
"Not very well," said Jerret, still grinning.
That brought out booming laughter from everyone.
"But I think I can handle any Squire with ease," said Jerret. "And some of the Knights too. I'm serious."
Vannas rose. The Birlote prince stood several inches taller than Jerret. "Is that so? I know a thing or two about swordplay, so perhaps it would not be as easy to defeat me as you think. I would be happy to partake in a duel with you."
"No, not you," Furlus muttered, motioning for Vannas to sit. "Can't risk you taking a blow to the head should Jerret get carried away. You either, Lannon. Anyone else is welcome to give it a try. The winner gets a flask of high quality Olrog ale. Of course, if the Squire wins, he has to wait until he is a Knight to drink it."
"Olrog ale?" said Jerret. "That's worth fighting for!"
The Rangers returned and tossed some sword-sticks on the ground. A large circle of onlookers soon formed around the fire.
Jerret lifted a heavy stick and looked around. "So who will it be?"
A young, arrogant Brown Knight named Melran Lighthammer stepped forward to cheers from the onlookers. He tossed his shield aside. He was a few years older than Jerret, but about the same size. "With all due respect, Jerret," Melran said, "no Squire can beat a fully trained Knight. Not in fair combat. But if you want to learn a lesson, I'm ready to teach it!"
The onlookers boomed laughter.
"An undersized Brownie and an oversized Squire," mused Thrake Wolfaxe, raising his ale flask. "I think it's a perfect match."
"You'll likely get your head smashed in, Jerret," said Furlus, chuckling. "I admire your spirit, but Melran is right. You're not experienced enough or strong enough to defeat a Divine Knight."
Jerret's lips tightened. "We'll see about that."
The sword-sticks clattered together several times, as Squire and Knight circled each other. Jerret took a blow to the leg that made him hop, but he stayed on his feet. Melran sighed and seemed to lower his guard, as if Jerret were not worth his time. Jerret lunged in and caught Melran with a solid blow to the shoulder that drove the arrogant look off his face.
Melran's eyes widened. "Oh, so you want to make this a little more serious, huh?" His face red with embarrassment and anger, he launched a flurry of blows at Jerret. Jerret blocked all but one that glanced off his arm.
Again they circled each other, sweat dripping from their brows, and now Melran was alert to Jerret's skill and in full defensive posture.
"You're looking a bit scared, Melran," Jerret mocked. "I can see it in your eyes."
The onlookers roared laughter.
Melran's face twisted into a sneer. "Keeping talking, Squire. When all is said and done, you're going to have some shiny new bruises."
They clashed again, trying to overpower each other with brute strength. Knights were typically much stronger than Squires, but Jerret managed to push Melran backwards a bit. For a moment, Melran looked horrified at the prospect that Jerret might defeat him-a shame that was certain to torment him for a long time.