The Kingdom of Liticea: The Sorcerer Prince

Chapter Twelve: A Great Favor

His rump was still sore as they sat down for supper. Locke tried fruitlessly to hide his pain, but the others saw it and looked on with snickering. Frequently, the young heir of Horcaster felt the need to give everyone around him a good taste of his fist. This was one of the occasions.

    "Yeah, laugh all of you, but at least i had the balls to run!" he said.

    "Yeah, and you lost to a 'pansy' as you put it," Bart said.

    "I never knew a pansy could go so fast," Eliza said.

"That damned bastard must have cheated!"

"I'm sure it was him who goated that bull into putting its horn up your ass," Bart jeered again.

"Well, you're better off than that poor butcher. Heard he won't walk for six months!" Jergan said.

"A butcher run over by bulls. That's what I call ironic," Gor said.

"So, Locke, you made it out in better shape than others," Bart gave him a pat on the back.

"Piss off," Locke gave the knight a good shove and his ass planted right into his seat. Bart's elbow hit a mug that spilled ale all over Gor's lap. This time it was Locke who laughed. Gor grimaced at him and gave bart a good smack on the head. It would not be a good idea to push back at Locke. he may be the dimmest amongst their group, but his size dwarfed them all.

Gor then shifted his attention elsewhere. Locke followed his gaze and spotted another knight coming towards them, dressed in the yellow and orange and wearing the Bull of House Velrock. He was small in stature compared to his brother, but Helg Velrock was a known knight, not to be trifled with.

"Little brother! It has been too long!"

"It's only been a week, Helg," Gor pointed out.

"A week to long," he turned towards the others and greeted them, "gentlemen! My lady," Eliza could not help but blush. Helg was still as handsome as when she first arrived at the school of Chivalry.

"What are you doing here?" Gor demanded.

"Visiting my favorable little brother for one thing. Also to give you some very exciting news! And this concerns all of you."

"What news?" Locke asked.

"You, and every knight in Blackfield will be joining prince Tauron's host on the campaign to drive the Morcars from the Westland!" he announced loudly, so that most of the others around them could also here. There was suddenly less talking and most eyes turned to Helg.

For the young knights, it was as if time stopped for a brief moment, and they were unable to decide if they should be excited or worried. Since they were at their mother's breast they heard tales of the monstrous Morcar tribe. This strange tribe from west of Gariel's wall who are said to be part animal and lay with beasts.

"We... we're going into battle?" Locke asked. Helg nodded, and he gleefully pounded the table and shouted out that he was ready to kill some Morcars. The pain in his rear chose an awful time to return and he sunk back into his seat.

"Don't be so eager. These are the Morcars, not sand bandits from Useria."

"Morcars, bandits, dragons, whatever! If it comes, i'll kill it!"

Helg nodded, "We have a fine warrior in the making here. What about the rest of you? Are you not excited."

"Very!" blurted Jergan.

"I'll kill three before I break a sweat!" Bart stated.

"You'll have your chance soon enough. i would prepare soon, we depart after the festival."