XIV.I; Tomes of Estain

  His mother… it has to be her.

  She has no name, but her husband did. Falcon. A nickname, in truth, but one that stuck. In the old war between Raelad and Angles, he fought in the host of the Duke’s father, and brought home a bride from the war. A girl with red hair, who liked flowers and nature and all things green.

  Falcon was a soldier of some renown during the Siege of Kant, and was allotted a homestead within the woods of Estain. A land of his own, though no noble banner. His blood would not pass. Him and his wife lived solitary lives, and eighteen years ago, a son was born to them. Named for the famed sword of a legendary hero. Gram. There goes my theory on his name.

  The records written by Lord Alderin died off until five years ago, when Estain went to war with the Duchy of Ildrich to the West. In the host of Duke Estain, from the levies of… of Sandal, Gram was raised under the detachment of Lord Alderin, Marshal of the Duke. His mother had apparently heavily protested the levying, crying out before the Duke in his court that he was not ready. But war is as war is, and Gram went to war.

  In the Battle of Halway, Gram slew the Duke of Ildrich’s son in single combat, caving in his breastplate, said in these records to be of a particularly poor make, with a pick and drowning him in a stream. In the Siege of Halway, a few weeks after, he was first over the battlements, and took an arrow to his chest in the taking of the keep. To his heart. It was sure the boy would die, and no such treatment beyond the standard was given to him, but miraculously, he survived.

  In the Greatest battle of the conflict, Savon Fields, he commandeered a warhorse from a fallen foe and rallied the peasants of the broken flank, routed upon the death of their commander, Gogren Jane. That flank, holding as long as it did, allowed the Duke’s host to break the centre line, winning the day. And in the last fight of the war, an ambush upon the Duke’s encampment, he personally saved the Duke himself from burning alive.

  It’s a great record, and it’s certainly a wonder why he was never knighted himself. Even given land. Men in Angles had done far less to warrant a title. Gram… Gram… you would’ve made a far better case to my mother if…

  That was rather odd.

  He returned to his mother’s hut after the war, and it is said his father died soon thereafter. Listed as a ‘broken heart’. Four years later, the mother and son moved to Sandal Proper, where they lived in a rundown house on the outskirts. The ink was fresh now. A year later, Sandal would be brought to havoc and ruin by—

  The book was slammed closed and thrown into a pile. To my right, Professor Riscard stood there, a furious look on his face. “Might I ask you a question?”

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  He took my silence for a yes.

  “When I tell you to stop poking into Gram’s past, and you keep doing it, what am I to do?”

  You didn’t tell me that. Not exactly. I’m not going to use sophistry, am I? “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry isn’t good enough,” he sneered. He bid me rise, and I did, following him through the keep. “His awakening killed his entire village,” said the Professor.

  Gods be good. “What kind of—”

  “—that truly doesn’t matter,” he said, looking at me sternly. “I mean it. Poke any further, and the Old Fool himself will have you executed. I cannot save you then. Leave it be, Alice… for Hil’s sake. Now come, there’s a matter concerning Gram right now.”

  Oh?

  Outside in the courtyard, Gett, Fedwin, Isla and Medlyn were on horseback, and Duke Estain was shaking his head.

  “Gram and the Duke’s heir have scurried off to a tourney nearby. One of the guards saw them leave. You’re going to go make sure they don’t die. Both of them.”

  “Can’t you come?”

  “I’m busy here,” he explained, leading me down the stairs.

  Gett laughed atop his horse. “I swear, he’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

  “It was not Gram,” said the Duke. “It was my boy. I’m sure of it. Once again, I am sorry Riscard.”

  “It’s quite alright,” said the Professor. “And I’m sure Gram had something to do with it. He’s a rogue, that one.”

  “Why don’t you send your own men?” Not that I don’t wish to go, or see Gram’s prowess in action, but it’s rather odd.

  “Matters of prestige, my dear,” explained the Duke. “We can’t have guards tearing my future heir out of a tourney due to his father’s fear, can we?”

  I suppose so.

  “Alice, one thing before you go.”

  Riscard led me to a secluded corner of the ring. “If you’re unable to stop Gram from fighting… the ring on his finger. If it is severed, if his hand is mauled, as unlikely as that may be, but you never know, you are to enter the lists and behead him. Immediately. Am I clear?”

  “What?”

  “No what,” he urged. “I was ordered by Headmaster Sig to keep him in my sights, and in particular, to keep that hand out of danger until he can properly defend it. If the ring is lost, kill him. No ifs, not buts… no feelings. They tell me he’s been given a suit of armour, and the ring itself has a ward of sorts, but anything can happen. Kill him. Am I clear?”

  I nod, but I don’t agree. I’m sorry, but I’m not going to kill him. Absolutely not.