"Riders spotted down the road. Her Highness said to summon you to the great hall."
"Thank you." Davrin dismissed her and went to fetch the cloak he'd removed before settling into work, as the castle was miserably drafty no matter what attempts were made to keep it warm. It had been built for war, not for comfort, and King Rorlen had never put earnest effort, or even permission and funds, into changing that.
Heart pounding in his chest, anxiety warring with relief, he made his way swiftly through the castle to the great hall, where it looked like every last inhabitant had tried to cram in. No one had cared about the challenge, not really, but one lindworm and suddenly everyone was invested. Understanding and resentment warred in Davrin, but he tamped it all down and focused on what mattered: Cimar was nearly home, he'd won the first challenge, and beyond all that he'd just won enormous support and favoritism among the castle population. People were invested now, and that changed the entire shape of the game.
Korena beckoned to him from the royal dais, and Davrin pushed through the crowds to join her, bowing to King Rorlen and then to her, before obediently standing at her side. A courtesy, but later after the engagement was announced, people would look back on little things like this and wonder just how long they'd had an arrangement.
More likely, they'd claim they'd known, or at least suspected, all along, and attempt to out-do each other with brag after brag of the hints and details they and they alone had noticed. Davrin could predict nearly to the person what each of them would say.
King Rorlen seemed oddly subdued, more so than usual; the healer had probably given him a light sedative so there'd be no repeat of his earlier fit. A less arrogant man might have handed the matter over to his heir, but Rorlen had never lacked arrogance, unfortunately for everybody.
On Rorlen's left, Lord Tekker was as still and unreadable as stone. Standing behind and slightly to his left, Sir Grayne looked his usual rotten-lemon self. It didn't take a diplomat with years of experience to read the two men were livid with the way this first challenge had concluded. Grayne had been given a quest that amounted to a child's game, and before he had bothered to even begin, his rival returned with a lindworm skin. It was the sort of wild tale told by bards, and yet Cimar had made it reality.
The steward called for order, and when they were quiet, for everyone to move out of the way. People slowly, grumbling and sniping at one another as they vied to maintain a good position, cleared a path. They managed it just as the enormous doors were pushed open by guards—three to each door—and another four led the way in to ensure the way remained clear.
As they reached the dais, the guards split in two and took up posts at either side.
Finally, finally, Cimar appeared, dressed in full plate armor minus helmet and gauntlets, Leonine a couple of paces behind and dressed in equally fine mail, as full plate armor was only bestowed once spurs had been earned. Behind them came several men, towering and muscular, poles braced on their shoulders to carry the enormous lindworm skin secured with thick rope that had been woven into a makeshift net.
Despite the impressiveness of the skin, Davrin's eyes were only for Cimar, as beautiful as ever, though he definitely looked exhausted behind his façade of triumphant knight.
As they reached the dais, Cimar and Leonine knelt in perfect unison, hands splayed on the floor, heads bowed. "Your Majesty, I return from my quest triumphant, with trophy in hand to prove the veracity of my claim."
Behind him, the men carrying the lindworm skin set it to rest on the floor and knelt as well. At some point, the skin must have been properly treated, because it gleamed in the light of the countless torches in the hall, neatly rolled, with no hint of blood or other remnants of the beast to which it had once been attached.
"So I see," King Rorlen replied. "How did you manage such a feat on your own, Sir Cimar, when entire armies have been felled by a single lindworm?"
"It was asleep when we arrived, and my shifting ability gave me rare advantage." That set murmurs through the hall like waves. Anyone who hadn't been curious about Cimar's unknown shifted form before certainly was now. "I also suspect that until that point, it had never faced a foe who was a genuine threat, and so was ill-prepared. In short, Your Majesty, I managed the feat due almost entirely to luck."
Davrin sincerely doubted that, but Cimar wasn't a fool to go boasting and bragging, especially to the king barely tolerating this whole affair to begin with.
"Whatever the reason," King Rorlen said begrudgingly, "a victory is a victory, if it is fairly and honorably won. As you are the first to return victorious, I name you the winner of the quest challenge and award the full fifty points."
That meant even when Grayne completed his own quest, he could not earn more than forty points, even if he did exceedingly well. It wasn't much of a lead, especially as this was only the first of three, but it was something.
Applause filled the hall, bouncing off the walls and making the noise near-deafening.
When it finally quieted, Princess Korena said, "You went above and beyond in this matter, Sir Cimar. No one in history has bested a lindworm singlehandedly, not that anyone has recorded. It is my right to offer you a boon, and I do so. You may have what you wish, so long as it does not give you unfair advantage in the challenge or bring harm to others."
That earned Korena a glower from her father and sent whispers through the hall, but it was well within the rules. Moreover, the accomplishment was great enough King Rorlen himself should have granted a boon, and so could hardly argue when his own heir did so in his stead.
"My squire," Cimar replied, giving no sign of the stir all around him. "Whether I win or lose this challenge, he has already more than earned his spurs. He cannot be granted them during the challenge, of course, but at its conclusion, I would see him properly knighted. I would not have his honor or future besmirched by my actions, should the worst come to pass."
Korena smiled, faint but true, every bit the stately queen she would soon be as she replied, "The boon is granted, Sir Cimar. Pending formalities aside, congratulations on your knighthood, Sir Leonine."
"T-thank you, Your Highness," Leonine said, eyes wide before he hastily bowed his head again.
More whispers rippled through the hall but were cut off as Rorlen abruptly stood—and seemed for a moment to sway on his feet, regaining his balance right as it looked as though Grayne or nearby bodyguards would have to lunge to catch him. "Dismissed," Rorlen said, the word not quite spoken in a snarl, and strode off unsteadily, vanishing through the door that led to his private suite.
Davrin caught Cimar's eye and gestured for Cimar to come see him once he had a chance. Cimar nodded, and with a slight bow to Korena, Davrin slipped from the over-crowded hall and made his way back to his chamber.
CHAPTER SIX
Cimar had never been so sick of people in his life. By the time he managed to escape the onslaught of grabby hands and grossly inappropriate questions, and not-remotely-subtle attempts to glean his shifted form, he was ready to take up life as a hermit.
Or nearly, anyway. More than anything, he wanted to see Davrin, and finally say—and do—all those things he'd held back, for one reason or another, most of which seemed stupid now. He would have never dishonored his wife, but they'd come to their arrangement a long time ago.