Written for the Camp Hogwarts challenge, Cabin Longbottom.
Task: Archery- Write about a medieval duel (100 points)
A Knight's Honor
oOo
Sir Cadogan raised another beer and drained it in one gulp. The men around him cheered loudly, filling the dingy tavern with drunken cheer. The back-spotted yellow feline the size of a Great Dane at his feet bared its fangs, but he quickly pacified it with a wave of his wand.
"Aye, a great deal I got on this one, only five hundred galleons!" the slightly inebriated knight said, gesturing to the tavern wench to refill his goblet. "The merchant told me the story of how he acquired it. Took it straight from under the mother's bosom! This here is only a cub, but a full-grown Nundu has yet to be tamed by less than one hundred men, working together!"
Sir Cadogan observed the looks filled with awe and veneration his company was throwing at his brand new pet with smug satisfaction. It could be a bit of a handful, as he needed to re-do the calming spell every few hours, but as long as he kept it away from the curtains, the animal didn't do much damage to his home.
Suddenly he heard the low hiss of a snicker. His eyes rose from the goblet and immediately identified the scoundrel, a robed man with a long beard, sitting alone one table over. Sir Cadogan slammed his drink onto the table, spilling its contents everywhere, but drawing the attention of his companions.
"Is there something you'd like to say, Sir?" he demanded loudly.
The other man turned slightly to look at him, and the mocking glint in his eyes set a fire blazing inside the knight.
"Only that what you have at your feet is not a Nundu."
The entire tavern went quiet. The men gathered on Cadogan's table shifted their eyes uncomfortably, waiting to see how he would take this insult. And he took it as any hot-blooded Gryffindor would.
"Are you calling me a liar?!"
"I am calling you a fool. Anyone who has ever seen a Nundu with their own eyes can tell you that even as a cub they are the size of a full-grown lion. This animal is too skinny, too small and too fragile to be a Nundu."
Cadogan rose to his feet, his plate armor clinking in the silence. "You, Sir, dare insult me and my intelligence in front of my friends? It is plain to see by your manners that you are no Knight, but I shall challenge you to a duel! If you have even a drop of honor in your veins, face me as a man at sundown in front of this very tavern!"
"I'm in town on business. I don't really have time to educate loud-mouthed brutes," the stranger said calmly, taking a sip from his drink and turning his back on the rambunctious knight. Sir Cadogan nearly exploded with indignation.
"You offend me, yet deny me retribution? You, Sir, are a coward!"
The stranger's hand froze just as he was raising it up to his lips again. When he slowly turned his head to face Cadogan once more, his eyes were twinkling with a very clear threat.
"I did not wish you waste my time humiliating you in front of the entire town, but now you have made it personal. Sundown. And if you are late, I shall sever your ears and feed them to that cat."
With that, he stood up, left a few golden coins on the table and walked out the door.
-O-
Sir Cadogan was in front of the tavern ten minutes before sundown. He stood there with a hand on his sword, watching the golden disk's descent over the mountains.
"You should reconsider this, Cadogan," said William, the owner of the fine establishment. "I have heard rumors of this man. They say he is a powerful sorcerer, the brightest of his age."
"Being bright does not account for rudeness!" Sir Cadogan insisted. "Besides, are you suggesting I hide like some yellow-bellied rogue?"
William shook his head. "Your funeral. Be careful with my tavern though! You are the challenger, so if the walls get blown down, I'm charging you for damages!"
Sir Cadogan waved his hand dismissively. "No need to worry. I shall end this swiftly."
William sighed at the other man's hopeless attitude and walked inside. Cadogan was left to wait by himself, wondering if the stranger would pick a wand or a sword as his weapon. He expected the former, as the stranger did not seem like he could handle muggle weapons.
Just then, three young men in shiny plate armor approached him.
"Excuse me, Sir Knight?" one of them asked, getting his attention. "You are of a noble house, are you not?"
Sir Cadogan swept the lad with his eyes. That armor was too unblemished to have ever been used in battle, and the air with which the boy held himself spoke of high birth. The two other flanking him though gave the distinct impression of bodyguards.
"Aye, I am of the Cadogan family, young Sir."
The men exchanged a knowing grin.
"Then you must be very disgruntled with the King's current policies," the leader spoke again.
Something flared up in Cadogan's chest. "I beg your pardon?!"
The young man leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "You have heard of his deeds, have you not? He lowers the taxes so much for the peasants, yet the nobles have to pay more than they did before. He says all that money goes to helping the less fortunate, but we all know he spends it on expensive brothels and fancy wine. He supports his depravities with your money, and some of us nobles are tired of it. Sir Mordred is gathering support and will soon—"
"Speak no more!" Sir Cadogan exclaimed suddenly. "My dear boy, are you proposing to me to conduct treason against the King?!"
The noble's face contorted in a frown. "The King is not worthy of his crown!" he spat.
"Hold your tongue! I cannot allow you to spread vicious lies about our ruler! You shall cease immediately, or I shall have you brought before him!"
The young man scowled. "You are nothing but a blind sheep then, hanging on the King's every word, as if he were chosen by the Gods!"
Sir Cadogan could not stand for this any longer. The blade hissed as he drew it from the scabbard and made a wide arch in the air. Just before it connected with the other man's chest, a broad longsword blocked its path. Cadogan barely spared a glance towards the left bodyguard who had blocked him, and sidestepped, swinging his sword in a sideways arch in an attempt to bypass the longsword.
That was when another glint of metal shone to his right, and he barely had enough time to react and stop the second bodyguard's attack. Locked in a stalemate with him, he didn't even see who gave him the kick to the stomach. The armor protected him somewhat, but the force was still enough to make him flinch and give his enemies an opportunity to cut his thigh. He staggered backwards, then tried to block another swing of the enormous longsword, but lost his balance and fell in the dirt.
The young noble approached and put his leg on Cadogan's neck, flattening him to the ground and blocking his windpipe.
"You should be more careful who you pick fights wi—"
Suddenly, he was thrown off. Sir Cadogan could not see what was happening, being too busy gasping for air, but he heard screaming and saw flashes of light. He tried to get up, but his injuries and his air-deprived lungs necessitated a few minutes of rest.
As the knight lay on the ground and groaned, a tall silhouette blocked the last rays of the setting sun. Cadogan looked up and saw the rude stranger from the tavern, the one he was waiting for before the scuffle. The man looked down at him thoughtfully for a long moment, before extending his hand.
The dizzy knight looked at it in confusion. His eyes darted to the man's face, and he could see a slight smile behind the white beard. Reaching up, he accepted the help and his opponent drew him to his feet.
"That was very noble of you," the man said as Cadogan adjusted his armor. "I have seen many Knights, but few have demonstrated the loyalty to their King you have."
"To serve the King is a Knight's duty. To defend his honor is not something one should hesitate to do," Sir Cadogan said firmly. "King Arthur Pendragon stands up for something, and those who are wicked seek to undermine him with vicious lies."
"So you believe none of it then?" the stranger asked curiously.
"Falsehoods!" Sir Cadogan exclaimed. "Spoken by those in the shadows, hoping to mar the image of our just King! I shall not stand for such injustice!"
The stranger regarded him with a mixture of fascination and newfound respect. "A man of your convictions would find himself at home on the Round Table."
"To stand next to men who are noble and good would make a good home for any man, regardless of the strength of their convictions," the knight replied.
"Then perhaps you would not object to my suggesting to the King that a chair should be placed there for you?" the stranger said.
Sir Cadogan stared at him in bewilderment. "Aye, I would not. But why would our King listen to you?"
A smile ghosted over the lips of the robed man. "Because I am his most trusted advisor. They call me Merlin. Come, friend. Your audience with the King awaits."
He extended his hand again, in an obvious invitation for Apparition. Sir Cadogan considered the man before him once more, but after only a moment of hesitation, he clasped his palm firmly in his.