The Rogue Knight
Page 16
Twitch looked up at him, tears shimmering in his eyes, his expression miserable. “You know how you wouldn’t want me getting mixed up with those slavers?”
Cole nodded.
“I wouldn’t want you guys to get tangled up in my trouble. It would be unfair. It’s better to keep it to myself.”
“Come on,” Cole urged. “We’re friends now. You saved my life.”
Lowering his head, Twitch vigorously rubbed the back of one wrist. After a long pause, he gave a shuddering sigh. “Do you know about the champions of Elloweer?”
“Is that a sports team?”
Twitch attempted a smile. “Every town in Elloweer has a champion. In the big cities, the champion has twelve knights. The champion rules the town, defends the town, and decides how the taxes are spent. In the larger towns, an alderman usually manages the practical stuff, while the champion lives in comfort unless fighting a duel.”
“The champion is like a general?” Cole asked.
“A general has an army. The champion just has his knights. They serve as bodyguards and assistants. The cities of Elloweer have guardsmen to police the public, but they don’t fight wars with armies. By tradition, wars are decided by duels between champions.”
“Seriously? If somebody kills the champion, they take over the town?”
“Basically,” Twitch said. “It has to be a fair fight and follow the rules.”
“That’s crazy!” Cole exclaimed. “The leaders would just end up being the toughest fighters.” He pictured elections back home being resolved by mortal combat. How bizarre would that be? Candidates would probably be much younger and skip the fancy suits. “How often does the best fighter also make the best leader?”
“That’s why most of them use aldermen to run things,” Twitch said.
“Who makes sure the fights follow the rules?”
“The knights,” Twitch replied. “If somebody killed the champion unfairly, like by poisoning him or stabbing him in the back, the champion’s successor would become the new champion instead of the killer.”
“The champion has a person ready to take his place?” Cole asked.
“Usually several people. Normally, the successors are among his knights.”
“That means one of his knights could murder the champion and replace him.”
“Which is why the champion tries to make sure his knights are honorable warriors who he can trust.”
“Why would anybody want to be a champion?” Cole asked. “Sounds dangerous.”
“It is dangerous,” Twitch agreed. “But you rule the town. If you want, you can keep most of the taxes for yourself and your friends. Some great champions have claimed multiple cities, ruling through aldermen, and they live like kings.”
“If somebody kills one of the top champions, do they get all of their towns?” Cole asked.
“Only a champion can challenge a champion,” Twitch said. “And you can only challenge for one town at a time. If the defending champion falls, the new champion brings the disputed town under his protection, and the champion’s successor inherits the other towns.”
“They always fight to the death?” Cole said.
“Yeah,” Twitch replied. “Technically, the champion can yield instead of die, but it never happens. If a champion yields, the opponent doesn’t have to show mercy.”
“Do these fights happen a lot?” Cole wondered.
“Not often,” Twitch said. “Every champion risks his life and his town when he challenges another. Most are happy to rule their current domains. But some champions are greedy. Or ambitious. And sometimes disputes arise between cities that must be settled by the champions.”
“Instead of war,” Cole said.
“The duel is the war,” Twitch replied.
Cole considered the implications. “That seems less wasteful than a huge battle between two cities.”
“The losing city always suffers.” Twitch lowered his gaze. “Something I know a lot about.”
“Is that what happened to your village?” Cole asked.
Twitch scratched his cheek and rubbed his nose. “Kasori isn’t large. It isn’t rich. For generations, our champion never fought. He was more alderman than warrior. We’re simple people. There were hardly any taxes. Nobody got rich from them. We didn’t fight with our neighboring grinaldi villages, and who besides those villages would take the trouble to bother us? Then Renford came.”
“Who is that?”
“There’s a swamp not far from our village.” Twitch scrunched his nose. “A stagnant place full of reptiles and slime. Some ragged people live there, a few big families. The grinaldi plant, reap, and store. We work the land. The swamp folk are trappers and scavengers. They live like rats. After years without much contact between us, some of the swamp folk began to notice what we had, even though it wasn’t much. They sent their sons to train as soldiers, declared themselves a community, and named Renford Poleman their champion.”
“Oh, no,” Cole said.
“Renford showed up one day with five knights, all dressed in mismatched, secondhand armor. He challenged Brinkus, our alderman, to single combat. None of us really thought of Brinkus as a champion, though technically that was his job. He was an older man with a bad wing, forgetful and funny. His son asked him to step down and let him fight in his behalf, but Brinkus faced the challenge himself. And he died.”
“Making Renford your champion,” Cole said.
Twitch nodded. “Borus, the son of Brinkus, went to a neighboring village and asked to replace their champion. Their champion was no warrior, so he agreed to step down. You’re not supposed to challenge a new champion for six months, so Borus waited the correct amount of time, issued his challenge, and died as well. Renford went on to challenge and defeat the champions of the other two grinaldi villages in the area. He really is a skilled fighter. His knights, mostly brothers and cousins, are capable as well.”
“So an outsider took control of your villages,” Cole summarized.
“Not just any outsider,” Twitch said. “A lazy bully. Many of the swamp folk came to live on our land. My family was thrown out of our home. Soon his knights exceeded the limit of twelve. They didn’t take care of the land and property they confiscated. Tame fields grew wild. Livestock was wasted. Renford not only raised the taxes, but he increased them beyond what anyone could pay. No Ellowine champion is permitted to tax above fifty percent, but his fees came closer to eighty. The best of our workers could barely scrape by. When a group of our people protested, they were slaughtered.”
Cole nodded.
“I wouldn’t want you guys to get tangled up in my trouble. It would be unfair. It’s better to keep it to myself.”
“Come on,” Cole urged. “We’re friends now. You saved my life.”
Lowering his head, Twitch vigorously rubbed the back of one wrist. After a long pause, he gave a shuddering sigh. “Do you know about the champions of Elloweer?”
“Is that a sports team?”
Twitch attempted a smile. “Every town in Elloweer has a champion. In the big cities, the champion has twelve knights. The champion rules the town, defends the town, and decides how the taxes are spent. In the larger towns, an alderman usually manages the practical stuff, while the champion lives in comfort unless fighting a duel.”
“The champion is like a general?” Cole asked.
“A general has an army. The champion just has his knights. They serve as bodyguards and assistants. The cities of Elloweer have guardsmen to police the public, but they don’t fight wars with armies. By tradition, wars are decided by duels between champions.”
“Seriously? If somebody kills the champion, they take over the town?”
“Basically,” Twitch said. “It has to be a fair fight and follow the rules.”
“That’s crazy!” Cole exclaimed. “The leaders would just end up being the toughest fighters.” He pictured elections back home being resolved by mortal combat. How bizarre would that be? Candidates would probably be much younger and skip the fancy suits. “How often does the best fighter also make the best leader?”
“That’s why most of them use aldermen to run things,” Twitch said.
“Who makes sure the fights follow the rules?”
“The knights,” Twitch replied. “If somebody killed the champion unfairly, like by poisoning him or stabbing him in the back, the champion’s successor would become the new champion instead of the killer.”
“The champion has a person ready to take his place?” Cole asked.
“Usually several people. Normally, the successors are among his knights.”
“That means one of his knights could murder the champion and replace him.”
“Which is why the champion tries to make sure his knights are honorable warriors who he can trust.”
“Why would anybody want to be a champion?” Cole asked. “Sounds dangerous.”
“It is dangerous,” Twitch agreed. “But you rule the town. If you want, you can keep most of the taxes for yourself and your friends. Some great champions have claimed multiple cities, ruling through aldermen, and they live like kings.”
“If somebody kills one of the top champions, do they get all of their towns?” Cole asked.
“Only a champion can challenge a champion,” Twitch said. “And you can only challenge for one town at a time. If the defending champion falls, the new champion brings the disputed town under his protection, and the champion’s successor inherits the other towns.”
“They always fight to the death?” Cole said.
“Yeah,” Twitch replied. “Technically, the champion can yield instead of die, but it never happens. If a champion yields, the opponent doesn’t have to show mercy.”
“Do these fights happen a lot?” Cole wondered.
“Not often,” Twitch said. “Every champion risks his life and his town when he challenges another. Most are happy to rule their current domains. But some champions are greedy. Or ambitious. And sometimes disputes arise between cities that must be settled by the champions.”
“Instead of war,” Cole said.
“The duel is the war,” Twitch replied.
Cole considered the implications. “That seems less wasteful than a huge battle between two cities.”
“The losing city always suffers.” Twitch lowered his gaze. “Something I know a lot about.”
“Is that what happened to your village?” Cole asked.
Twitch scratched his cheek and rubbed his nose. “Kasori isn’t large. It isn’t rich. For generations, our champion never fought. He was more alderman than warrior. We’re simple people. There were hardly any taxes. Nobody got rich from them. We didn’t fight with our neighboring grinaldi villages, and who besides those villages would take the trouble to bother us? Then Renford came.”
“Who is that?”
“There’s a swamp not far from our village.” Twitch scrunched his nose. “A stagnant place full of reptiles and slime. Some ragged people live there, a few big families. The grinaldi plant, reap, and store. We work the land. The swamp folk are trappers and scavengers. They live like rats. After years without much contact between us, some of the swamp folk began to notice what we had, even though it wasn’t much. They sent their sons to train as soldiers, declared themselves a community, and named Renford Poleman their champion.”
“Oh, no,” Cole said.
“Renford showed up one day with five knights, all dressed in mismatched, secondhand armor. He challenged Brinkus, our alderman, to single combat. None of us really thought of Brinkus as a champion, though technically that was his job. He was an older man with a bad wing, forgetful and funny. His son asked him to step down and let him fight in his behalf, but Brinkus faced the challenge himself. And he died.”
“Making Renford your champion,” Cole said.
Twitch nodded. “Borus, the son of Brinkus, went to a neighboring village and asked to replace their champion. Their champion was no warrior, so he agreed to step down. You’re not supposed to challenge a new champion for six months, so Borus waited the correct amount of time, issued his challenge, and died as well. Renford went on to challenge and defeat the champions of the other two grinaldi villages in the area. He really is a skilled fighter. His knights, mostly brothers and cousins, are capable as well.”
“So an outsider took control of your villages,” Cole summarized.
“Not just any outsider,” Twitch said. “A lazy bully. Many of the swamp folk came to live on our land. My family was thrown out of our home. Soon his knights exceeded the limit of twelve. They didn’t take care of the land and property they confiscated. Tame fields grew wild. Livestock was wasted. Renford not only raised the taxes, but he increased them beyond what anyone could pay. No Ellowine champion is permitted to tax above fifty percent, but his fees came closer to eighty. The best of our workers could barely scrape by. When a group of our people protested, they were slaughtered.”
