The military officer emptied her second pint of ale. She asked for another as she raised her empty mug in the air. The tavern owner hastily brought out more liquor in hopes that the officer wouldn’t stop her story.
“What was the condition?” the civil servant asked.
“She asked him to become her second husband if she won,” the military officer replied. “That’s all.”
“That’s exactly what the minstrels sang about. Is he truly so stunning a man?”
“Words like ‘stunning’ or ‘beautiful’ won’t even begin to describe him. As I said earlier, he’s a demon.” The military officer drew her face close to the civil servant and whispered in her ear. “Truth be told, I grew wet with excitement as well. I had no idea that a man as beautiful as him existed in this world.”
“He’s that beautiful?”
“He is.”
The military officer drew back and continued with her story. Though she’d whispered the last bit, everyone in the tavern, the owner included, had heard what she said. She’d always been a loud whisperer.
“I’m not sure if words can describe his beauty,” the military officer said. “I could see his muscles even under his chainmail, and I could clearly tell that he’d trained hard ever since he was young. His noble face was dyed red with anger, and when he challenged Lord Reckenbell to a duel, he glared all around as though to stop us from interfering. We were frozen in place by his eyes. For the first time in my life, I’d been looked down upon by a man.”
The military officer was six and a half feet tall; her experience only shed light on Faust and his steed’s monstrous size. If he could look down at her, he must’ve been seven feet, at least—no, he emanated an aura powerful enough to strike fear into all who beheld him. Only Lord Reckenbell was capable of such a feat.
“He was beautiful,” the military officer said. “That’s all I can say. I’d like to sleep with a man like him at least once in my life. But I doubt I’ll ever have the—”
“Enough about your thoughts,” the civil servant interjected. “What happened during his duel with Lord Reckenbell?”
That was all the civil servant was curious about. The military officer frowned at the interruption. She chugged her ale as everyone waited with bated breath for her to continue.
“He was beautiful,” she said. “That’s all.”
“What?” the civil servant asked.
“What else is there for me to say? Those exposed to his light and beauty will forget the battle, stuck in a trance, before their lives are done. You heard the minstrels sing that moments ago, didn’t you?”
The military officer teased her friend.
She’s not planning on telling me… the civil servant thought.
“C’mon, I’m your best friend,” the civil servant said. She couldn’t help but take a more casual tone. “You can tell me a bit more, can’t ya?”
“I’m debating on it,” the military officer replied.
“Stop being such a tease. If you won’t talk, I won’t pay for your drinks.” The civil servant sipped on her ale and glared at the officer, unamused.
“All right. I guess I’ll talk. Lord Reckenbell entrusted me with her magical longbow and had someone bring her halberd out.”
“You mean that keen blade that claimed dozens of nomads’ heads?”
Like the magical longbow, that halberd had been enchanted by a court mage. The blade had its sharpness and sturdiness enhanced.
“In terms of range, Lord Reckenbell had the upper hand,” the military officer explained. “She had better armor as well. Rumors say that Faust is a weak lord knight with only about three hundred people under him. In contrast to his measly chainmail, she wore full body armor that was engraved all over with magic sigils. It was a powerful piece of equipment. No matter how beautiful and demonic Faust was, I never doubted Lord Reckenbell. I was so sure back then that she’d attain victory.”
“But of course,” the civil servant agreed.
The difference between them had been stark, both in equipment and in reputation. Even Lord Reckenbell’s physique as the strongest knight of Villendorf was the stuff of dreams—it was hard to even imagine anyone matching her size. In fact, the civil servant hadn’t so much as heard of Faust von Polidoro until that campaign. Only much later did she learn from minstrels that he’d massacred over a hundred bandits during his military service.
Still, Lord Reckenbell’s accomplishments were far more impressive. It mattered not whether he’d killed thousands or even tens of thousands of common soldiers; such measly feats were worthless in the eyes of Villendorf’s hero. There was no knight in Villendorf who could come even close to the glory and renown that Reckenbell enjoyed.
“But they were equals,” the military officer said. “At first, neither budged an inch in that duel.”
“What kind of duel was it?” the civil servant asked. “That’s what I’d like to hear.”
“Faust’s greatsword may have been magical, but it couldn’t slice through Lord Reckenbell’s armor, which was covered with all manner of enchantments. He couldn’t even lay a scratch on the spots of exposed skin. And almost all of Lord Reckenbell’s attacks were parried by Faust’s greatsword.”
The officer recalled that the two duelists had clashed hundreds of times—she couldn’t keep count. She asked for another pint of ale, and the tavern owner hastily brought out more.
“Every now and then, I was struck with the illusion that Lord Reckenbell had won,” the officer went on. “Every time her halberd slashed at Faust’s body, bits of his chainmail danced through the air along with specks of blood. He was wounded countless times, but they were all mere scratches, nothing more. Not once could Lord Reckenbell land a fatal blow. Faust was able to discern the range of her attacks and narrowly avoid any serious injuries as her blade struck.”
“What a monster,” the civil servant remarked. “He truly sounds like a demon.”
Lord Reckenbell’s our hero—one whose name will live on in our kingdom even after her death. She was the hero who’d used her magical longbow to wipe out tribal leaders and archers of the nomadic tribes of the north—those troublesome plunderers. The military officer had mentioned before that when she was on the front lines as a member of the cavalry, Lord Reckenbell had annihilated several tribes. No doubt Villendorf would remember her name for the next millennium.
“The greatest reason for Lord Reckenbell’s loss was exhaustion,” the military officer said.
“Exhaustion?” the civil servant inquired.
“After hundreds of clashes, she grew tired. She may have been an extraordinary knight even in Villendorf, but she was already over thirty years of age. Her full suit of armor was covered in magic sigils that strengthened her gear instead of making it lighter. Her stamina didn’t last.”
I suppose even Lord Reckenbell was only human, after all.
“Faust, on the other hand, was wearing light chainmail,” the military officer said. “And above all, he’s much younger. No, I don’t think it’s right to claim that age was the sole reason behind Lord Reckenbell’s defeat. Her years of combat experience were precisely why she lasted that long against him. A normal knight would’ve been slain in one blow. But in the end…” The officer paused for a few moments; she closed her eyes as though she had died peacefully. “Faust’s aim was true. His greatsword reached her neck—a spot where the effect of the magic sigils was weakest, leaving her open to attack. That was what ended the duel.”
“That single blow ended Lord Reckenbell,” the civil servant said.
“Precisely.”
The military officer spoke while she checked the amount of ale left in her mug. The gag order had been lifted, and she looked relieved that she was finally able to speak up about the entire ordeal.