Page 44 of Fox of Fox Hall

Conall was fond of victories. Fox tried not tothink about it.

The whole thing was foolish. The tournament, thefavors, the emotions behind them. All preposterously unnecessarywhen knights already sparred with each other to keep their skillssharp. But the spectacle was compelling, Fox could admit. And theknights did seem to enjoy it, although differently from how theaudience did. The colors were pretty, and the competitors werealluring in their armor, determined to do their best forthemselves, and for the crowd, and most especially for anyone whosefavors they wore. The pageantry felt eternal in a way Fox couldn’texplain even to himself. As if tournaments were one of the largelyforgotten ancient rituals, a practice that had changed overcenturies to become this.

A knight Fox recognized from Kaladas led herhorse to the edge of the field, where someone finely dressed andobviously byr met her. The knight, as tall as they all seemed tobe, bent her head and got a sweet kiss and then a square ofembroidered cloth pressed into her hands. Fox could see theflustered pleasure on her face even at a distance.

Domvoda also watched the granting of the favor,although Fox looked away before Domvoda would realize Fox had seen.Not that Fox believed Domvoda was pining for such an arrangementfor himself. Even the possibility was confusing, as unsettling asthe realization that if Domvodadidwant to play knight, hecould have entered at least some of the events for today. No onewould risk seriously injuring the king in any of the more physicalmatches, but Domvoda was a skilled archer, especially on horseback.He could have entered to have fun. His Potentials could haveenjoyed competing to offer him a favor, with all the byr breathlessas they waited to see whose favor he would accept.

Or, if the knight and not the favor had beenwhat had intrigued Domvoda, then he could have chosen a such aknight for his fertile andhecould have been the one tomake some towering figure blush. A knight might do him well, ifConall had been to his taste.

But then he would have to admit that he wantedsuch things.

“It is perhaps best that the king does not takepart in the tournament,” Byr Falnya said, seemingly from nowhere,apparently full of the same ideas as Fox. Perhaps he had also seenwhere Domvoda’s attention had gone. The entire box, even the oldknights, went silent. Byr Falnya was undeterred, sliding a lookfrom Fox to Domvoda. “Imagine the troubles that would arise when itcame to the matter of bestowing favors.”

Matlin Loriloft tensed. Byr Din turned towardthe king with questions in his exquisite eyes. Fox made a horrifiedsqueaking sound, a startled laugh he did not quite let escape, thenquickly looked to Domvoda as well. If nothing else, Domvoda shouldadmire Byr Falnya’s audacity.

The king’s tail hung from the back of his seat,motionless. Domvoda returned Byr Falnya’s look and spoke calmly,although Fox could not see his expression to tell if he wasactually calm.

“In days gone by, I might have competed. Manyrulers did. The history books are full of such stories and howthose rulers won. But did they truly win, or did they win becausethey ruled?” The boredom in Domvoda’s voice was at odds with whathe said; even Byr Din must know by now the boredom was a lie. “I’ddo no one credit if I entered, and would never know if my victorymeant anything. Besides,” he sighed in an exhausted fashion, “mostwould hesitate to face me out of fear of what would happen if theydid best me. The other byr, worried about offending me, would nothire them or have them near. Is that not so, my Fox?

Fox cleared the remaining laughter from histhroat. “It is. But that, at least, is something you might work tochange, my king. Not that I think you should spar here….” Foxthought no one should spar here, which was a great deal moreserious than bouts between friends to hone their skills. “But thereis private sparring. You could reward those who have done well,even the ones who best you. And do the same if you did choose tocompete.”

It was out of Fox before he could wisely chokeit down.

Domvoda didn’t turn, leaving Fox to the shadows.“Full of new ideas today.”

Byr Falnya glanced to Fox and arched an eyebrowas if amused and wanting Fox to be amused too.

“The knights seem to enjoy it when someone moreskilled defeats them,” Fox tried to explain himself. “It wouldendear them to you.”

“And that,” Domvoda said silkily, “is how I canbe certain the Fox has been spending time with ourDragonslayer.”

If he could have, Fox would have ducked behindhis chair. He stared hard at Domvoda but the king didn’t offer evena flick of his tail to indicate his mood.

Fox kept his head up, attempting to seemunbothered by the interest of the others around him. However, theirinterest quickly left Fox and turned to Conall on the field ofcompetitors, as if the mention of the Dragonslayer had spurredthem. Or maybe it was an excuse to look, for Byr Conall was easy tofind and a big, broad, lovely sight: his plain surcoat, his halfear, the golden gleam of his skin and the unusual hair on his face,the mighty lash of his tail as he let his excitement show.

“He does not come to court much, does he?”Matlin Loriloft remarked. “Yet he has opinions on what the kingshould do?”

“Knights know fighting,” one of the olderknights butted in. “It is all they should comment on. Killing adragon doesn’t qualify him to speak on other matters. It barelyqualifies him to speak on that.”

Fox did not scoff, not wanting to annoy Domvodafurther. He also didn’t point out that theyhadbeen talkingabout fighting. He said, “And yet you are in this box, not judgingthe events out there. Were you not invited to?” and smiled withteeth as everyone, even Matlin Loriloft, turned to him as ifshocked. The only one who did not was Domvoda. Fox addressed themall. “Byr Conall has the esteem of the king as well as the otherknights.”

“He does.” Domvoda was colder than any Loriloft.“So he does not need the Fox to defend him.” Fox shut his mouthwith a snap as Domvoda finally turned to look at him. “Conalldefeated a dragon and will doubtless defeat many of his friendstoday and tomorrow without mercy. Your favor would be better givenelsewhere.” Fox didn’t know what expression crossed his face, toofocused on keeping the rest of his body still. Domvoda narrowed hiseyes, studying Fox intently for another moment before abruptlyturning away again.

“Not someone to be trifled with,” Byr Falnyaagreed, also facing forward. “His title makes that more thanclear.”

“Byr Drashnal is many things,” Domvoda replied,standing for a moment to gesture for an event to begin andreceiving a deep nod from each of the competitors and judges inreturn, including Conall, “but Conall will do what needs to be donewithout hesitation. His ruthlessness did not begin or end with thedeath of the dragon. Some like to forget this, but I have not.”

“Did you bet on him?” Byr Din asked, apparentlyfascinated.

Fox barely glanced to him or to Domvoda, lookingforward long enough to see Conall give another nod toward theking’s box before attending to his judging. After that, Fox kepthis gaze away from the field and from anyone or anything else, nomatter what name was spoken, or the cries and cheers he heard.

Some events took longer and went on all day, butmany of the matches within those events were short. As one of theolder knights in front of Fox put it, “Experienced knights who knowwhat they’re doing do not play around.”

Conall took part in one event as a competitorduring the first half of the day. An event that involved a duelwith a long blade, which the older knights had assured Fox wasdull, since the point was to get a “kill” strike or to take awaythe opponent’s blade, not actually kill them. The matches were setup so that the competitors had been rated ahead of time, in eventsthat must have been held privately among the knights in thepreceding days, so that no one new to the tournament or onlybeginning to learn that martial skill would face off againstsomeone far above their level.

Conall went out near the end, and Fox knew itwas him even before he heard the name called by someone on thefield because everyone in the king’s box seemed to hold theirbreath. They did that each time Conall entered the ring, which hedid several more times. The people around Fox tensed and jumped somany times it left Fox ill. Their cheering afterward did not domuch to alleviate that.

No one seemed to be seriously injured from thatevent, but as the hours passed, Fox saw more than one knightlimping or being assisted to a tent full of healers.

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