A March of Kings

Erec rode from the rising of the first sun to the time the second crossed the sky when the country path widened, gradually became finer, smoother, the rough holes less frequent. Its jagged rocks were replaced by fine pebbles, then these replaced by smooth, white shells, and Erec knew he was, finally, approaching a city. He started to see people pass him on foot, carrying goods and wares, sheltering their heads with wide hats from the summer heat. The road become more and more populated, people passing him in both directions on this glorious summer day, some leading oxen or riding on carts. Judging from the number of days he had ridden, Erec assumed he was nearing Savaria, the stronghold of the South. It was a city famed for its fine women, its strong wine and its magnificent horses, one that Erec had heard much about, but had never had a chance to visit. It was famed, also, for its annual jousting competition, the prize for the winner being the bride of his choice. Women gathered from all over the Ring hoping to be picked, and knights of fame and honor poured in from all the provinces, hoping to win.



Erec figured it would be a good place to begin his Selection year. He did not expect to find his bride here, so soon, but he thought, at the very least, it would keep his jousting skills sharp. Being the king's hand, the finest knight in the kingdom, Erec had no doubt he could defeat any adversary. It was not hubris, just knowledge of his own skills compared to others. It had been years since he had been defeated by anyone. Whether he could find his bride was a different story.



Erec climbed a hill and as he reached its peak saw, spread out below him, a great city, with castles, parapets, spires, steeples and a brook running before it. It was framed by an ancient wall, as thick as two men. Savaria. It was a beautiful city, quaint, not nearly the size of King's Court, yet still substantial. It was built low to the ground, its buildings all made of stone, with slate roofs and smoke rising from chimneys. As Erec stopped on his horse, taking in the site, he spotted a lookout, high up on one of the towers, a boy dressed in the red and green colors of the South. The boy jumped to his feet, waved frantically towards Erec, and blew a long trumpet. It was the official greeting of the King's Guard, and as Erec watched, the metal gate beyond the drawbridge was raised. There was an excited shout, and two horses came galloping out towards him.



It occurred to Erec that members of The Silver rarely journeyed this far South, and that the arrival of one would be hailed as a major event - especially one coming right from King's Court. And the fact that it was Erec - the most celebrated of all The Silver, and the King's champion - would create an even greater stir. He could already see, even from here, the excitement in the boy's eyes, the gathering crowd on the towers, the anticipation in the soldiers galloping out to greet him.



The soldiers pulled to a stop before him, their horses breathing hard, and greeted him with smiles from behind the friendly red beards of the Savarians.



"My Liege," one of them called out. "A great honor to have you here! We have had no visitors from King's Court in years."



"What brings you to us?" asked the other. "Is it the festival?"



"It is," Erec responded. "It is my Selection Year, and I'm afraid I've been too picky."



The soldiers both laughed in response.



"That I can understand," one of them said. "I failed to choose by my year, as well, and also failed to find one during my Selection year. Thus I was assigned a bride. I lament it to this day!" he said with a hearty laugh. "Not a day passes when she doesn't nag me to death, that she does not remind me that I did not choose her!"



Erec laughed.



"My selection year comes up next season," said the other soldier. "I hope to find someone before then."



"Well I've just begun my journey," Erec said. "I don't know that I will find my bride here. But I would like to see your city. And I will join the tournament."



"Very well, my Liege," one of them said good-naturedly. "Our Duke will be thrilled at your presence. It would be a great honor if we can accompany you. You must understand that the arrival of the King's hand is a major event! You will be treated like royalty within our gates!"



Erec laughed.



"I am hardly royalty," he said, humbly. "I am just another knight."



"Hardly, my liege," the other said. "We've heard tales of your conquests far and wide."



"I just perform my duty to the king. Nothing else. But that said, I would be honored for you to accompany me. Let us to the Duke!"



The three of them turned and began trotting down the road, to the looks of wonder of the growing crowd, amassing along the roadway to catch a glimpse of Erec.



As they rode through the massive arched stone gate of Andalusia, Erec was struck by the throngs of people that came out to see him. They rode into the city center, a wide stone plaza, framed by ancient stone walls, and as they did, the Duke rode out to greet him, flanked by a dozen men. Approaching with them were dozens of women, dressed in their finest, standing before Erec, hoping to catch his eye. Each was more beautiful than the next. Erec could hardly believe it. All this attention, just for him. It made him feel more famous than he felt entitled to.



As the Duke approached, Erec remembered him - he had met him once, at King's Court, at a royal event. He was a tall and lean man, with a perfectly straight posture and a gallant look. Beside him, Erec was happy to see, was one of his brothers-in-arms, a member of The Silver, a man Erec had fought with on many occasions; they had been in the same year in the Legion, and seeing him brought back old memories. They had gotten into trouble together one too many times. Brandt. With his warm, green eyes and blond beard, Brandt looked exactly as he had when Erec had last seen him years ago.



Brandt's face lit up in a smile as he jumped down from his horse along with the Duke. Erec jumped down from his, and Brandt hurried up to him.



"Erec, you son of a mother's whore!" Brant called out with a hearty laugh. "I never thought I'd see you more than a hair's breadth from King's court!"



Brandt embraced him heartily.



"And I never thought I'd see you either, old friend."



"We are thrilled to have you here!" the Duke said, embracing him with a hearty clasp of the forearm. "It has been many years since we last met. You are most welcome here. Having you here is like having the King himself!



"GUARDS!" the Duke turned and yelled over his shoulder.



Several guards rushed forward.



"Prepare the banquet hall! We shall all have a glorious feasts tonight, in honor of our brother Erec!"



"Here here!" came a happy cheer from the crowd.



"And what brings you here?" Brandt asked. "Has the King sent you this way?"



"He has not, I'm afraid. I am on a...personal mission this time."



Brandt examined him, bunching his eyebrows; then his face lit up.



"Don't tell me," Brandt said. "You dog! You made it to your Selection year! You didn't choose anyone, did you? You son of a whore! I knew it! I knew you wouldn't! You were always more interested in swords than ladies. I never understood what you were waiting for. Half the women in King's Court threw themselves at your feet."



Erec laughed.



"I don't know what I've been waiting for either, my friend. But you are right, and here I am. I thought I might join your tournament."



"Oh!" they both yelled out.



"Will you compete, then?" the Duke asked. "In that case, our games are already over! For who could defeat you in battle?"



"I can give him a run for his money!" Brandt called out. "In fact, last I remember, I was beating you on the Legion's field."



Erec laughed.



"Were you, then?" Erec asked.



"Yes, we were ten years old. And you didn't stand a chance!" Brandt yelled.



Erec laughed.



"I haven't beat you since then - but then again, no one has, so I don't feel so bad. But I can always have a second chance now, can't I?" Brandt asked with a laugh.



Brandt draped an arm around Erec and turned and led him through the crowd, on foot, towards the castle. The Duke and his men fell in beside them.



"Out of the way, you Ruffians!" Brandt called out good-naturedly. "We have a real member of The Silver here!"



Erec laughed. It was good to see his old friend again.



"You might be the better fighter, but I can still drink you under the table!" Brandt said as they went.



"We shall have to see about that," Erec said.



"Your joining our competition shall be news indeed," the Duke said. "Most of all for these ladies. Look at them. Every single one stares at you. After all, they've come from all corners of the Ring to find a husband - and you will be the most eligible of all!"



"At tonight's feast," Brandt added, "you will get to see them up close. They will all be there. You will have your choice. You will name one tonight, I hope! Yes, that will make our games much, much more interesting!"



As they continued through the crowd, past the dozens of women, past the other knights trying to catch a glimpse of their new competition, Erec was happy to be at his old friend's side, and he felt very welcome. He looked forward to the night's festivities, especially after a hard day's ride. He also felt overwhelmed: he wasn't sure he was ready to pick a bride tonight.



But as he passed one beautiful woman after the next, he could not help but feel that tonight would be the night when everything changed.