Page 138 of The Robber Knight
Reuben smiled again. He would show thisfellow whom he had the honor of addressing.
“I,” he proclaimed proudly, “am Sir Reubenvon Limburg, son of Heinrich, Duke von Limburg, Count von Berg, andHigh Commander of the Imperial Crusade Forces.”
The herald’s eyes widened, and he abruptlylooked up from the slate. “Really?”
“Yes,” Reuben confirmed, his smilewidening.
“Commander of the Crusade Forces?”
Reuben's smile froze. “Yes...”
“Do you mean the Crusade where all the oldladies in Jerusalem lifted their skirts and showed the soldierstheir bott—”
“Yes,” Reuben cut him off. He wasn't smilinganymore. “That Crusade.”
“Oh, my. Where you there? Did yousee...?”
Slowly, Reuben took a deep breath and triedto remember that a knight always had to remain courteous and kindto others. At the moment, it was rather difficult to remember.“Could we return to the matter of my entering the tournament?”
“Oh... of course, Sir. Forgive me.” Quickly,the herald lowered his gaze to his slate again. “For the son of ahigh house which is in such favor with his August Majesty theEmperor, we shall of course find a place among thecontestants.”
Nowthatwasmore like it. Reuben smiled again and pushed all thoughts of nakedbottoms from his mind.
“There is only one matter...” The heraldcleared his throat. “I am extremely reluctant to mention it, Sir,but with a nobleman from so far away, and so little known inSicily, I shall require a proof of nobility.”
Reuben's eyebrows went up. “Proof? Whateverfor?”
The herald’s face took on a painedexpression. “In recent years, Sir, increasingly, rich commonershave availed themselves of false crests and suits of armor, andstarted competing in those noble contests, in which to partakeshould be purely the privilege of the true knight.”
“How abominable!”
“You take the words out of my mouth, Sir.Abominable.”
“Dreadful!”
“Indeed. You understand, therefore, Sir,that...”
Reuben nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. I shallgive you all the proof you desire.”
“Have you a document, Sir? A sealed prooffrom your father that you are who you proclaim to be?”
“Well...” Thoughtfully, Reuben scratched hischin. He hadn't thought to bring any documents with him to thesouth. Suddenly, he had an idea. “A sealed proof, you said?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I have that. Wait.”
Reaching into the saddlebag of his horse,Reuben withdrew the half-empty wine bottle from his father'scellars and handed it to the herald. On the top you could see theseal of the Duke of Limburg, pressed into finest wax.
“The seal is already broken, but I wasthirsty on the way,” Reuben apologized.
“Um... well...” The herald hurriedly turnedto the stack of books beside him and started leafing throughparchment. “Err... this is unprecedented... I cannot quite, Imean...”
He looked from the books, to Reuben'smuscular, tall figure, and back to the books.
“You can keep the bottle as evidence, if youwant,” Reuben suggested.
“I'm not sure that will help, Sir, yousee...”
