Arlen followed Rose to Lynde's door. She knocked and Lynde answered soon enough with a smile on her face when she saw Arlen. She looked well; life in the courts of kings seemed to agree with her, though she was still the same Lynde, just cleaner and dressed in fancier clothes. Her voice seemed to be the same as she said, "Arlen, you're back!"
"Yes, I am," Arlen replied.
"It's wonderful to see you again!" she said. She then looked over him. "You're filthy!"
"I guess I am," he said. He couldn't help but smile. "It was awfully muddy on the way here."
"You should have a bath." She looked behind him and said, "Conleth." Arlen looked behind him to see a man standing behind him in attention. "See if you can't get Caolán to find a room and a bath for Arlen."
"Yes, ma'am," the man said dutifully and went off.
Arlen looked suspiciously at Lynde. "So I see you're using servants now," he said.
"He's helpful," Lynde said. "I don't want to refuse their services."
"Fine then," Arlen said as calmly as he could manage. "I hope you enjoy yourself. I for one will not trouble them."
"Oh please reconsider," Lynde said. "They make some of the best food you'll ever taste. Besides, I don't think you're in any state to hunt and cook your own food. Just let them get you back into fighting shape."
Arlen considered it. As much as he didn't want another man serving him, he considered what his life back home was like. His mother cooked his meals for him and his siblings; his family didn't work for a living but instead were given money from the other villagers to keep them safe; the free food at Ludger's tavern. Even on the road he wasn't the one to cook or hunt. People served him already, but that didn't make him king or unwelcome. While he did feel that he was taking advantage of people by doing this, he decided to agree. "Fine," he said simply.
"Good," Lynde replied. She looked behind him again and this time Arlen looked. The previous man—Conleth he thought his name was—had brought a man with fancy robes and look of disgust on his face. It was probably because of the mud though, so he accepted the look. "Caolán, do you think there's any place for Arlen?" Lynde asked.
"Fortunately there is a room nearby, though it has not been lived in for some time," the man in fancy robes said. "It may be a little dusty."
"I'll take it," Arlen said.
"Very well. I will inform King Orrin of your arrival." As the man was about to leave he asked, "Are you Arlen of Cathalorn?"
"Yes," he replied. "What of it?"
"Oh, nothing. I just expected you to be taller." Arlen laughed a little. He thought he might like to meet the man they always expected him to be and give him a black eye.
After a good bath Arlen found clean clothes waiting for him that didn't seem to be his. They were of good craftsmanship, though a little colorful. He put them on despite his own tastes and went to see Lynde.
Arlen knocked and Lynde seemed glad to see him when she answered. "You look very nice," she said as she let him in.
"Don't patronize me," Arlen replied. "I look like one of those nobles."
"Actually, I don't think so," Lynde said. "They don't have beards like yours."
Arlen sighed. "I'm shaving it by tomorrow; too itchy."
"Well I think it looks nice," she countered.
"If I cared about such things I'd be as preoccupied as those nobles; being too distracted by my looks to make the right choices." They sat down and he asked her, "Have you been making those right choices?"
She looked nervous. "Well I've been doing the best I can. I can only do good as I see it."
"I guess that's good enough," Arlen said. "You do have a pretty good moral compass."
Lynde cocked an eyebrow. "What makes you think that?"
He shrugged. "Everything, I guess. You always want to help other people no matter what, and it's kinda rubbed off on me a little. You're great, but you could use a little guidance."
"Well, that's what I have you for and Rose and my father."
"What about Artsanna?" he asked.
"Oh yeah, and Artsanna," Lynde said, pained by her own mistake.
Arlen frowned. "She's willing to go far for you. She would and has run headlong into a storm for you. The least you could do is acknowledge her intelligence."
"I know but it's kinda hard," Lynde said. "She can just be so much like an animal sometimes it's hard to think of her as a person."
"She may be more like an animal on the outside, but she's smart. She can get a little carried away at times but then again so can you."
Lynde smiled. "When have I ever gotten carried away?"
"Well there was the time that you…"
Before Arlen could finish his sentence, a man burst into the room. He was older, somewhere in his forties, and wore fancy clothing and a sword. Just as Arlen kept his eyes on him the intruder stared at him. "Hmm, so this is the famous Arlen of Cathalorn?" he said in an arrogant manner. "I somehow expected you to be different, but this is suitable for all intentions."
"And who are you?" Arlen asked.
"I suppose you wouldn't have heard of me," the man said. "I am Daras Guildsward, second son of Thelmund Guildsward, and I have come to challenge you to a duel of swords."
Arlen stood up, grasping Mor'ranr's hilt. "If you want a fight, you've got one."
"Arlen, no," Lynde cautioned.
"Tomorrow at noon in the west courtyard, if it is convenient," Daras said.
Arlen looked at him so utterly confused that Daras visually reacted. "What's wrong with here and now?"
"Well I wouldn't want to bloody the lady's rooms, and I would like you to get your affairs in order in the event of your death," Daras explained. He cocked an eyebrow. "Have you never been challenged to a duel of honor?"
"Never," Arlen said. "Not unless you count a bar fight, and even then only once."
"Well then, I suppose that will require a going over of the rules," Daras said. Arlen scoffed. To put rules on combat was ridiculous and childish. Daras ignored him and continued with the rules. "No grappling, no kicking, no punching, no spiting at one another, no throwing sand or dirt into a combatant's face, no holding onto one's sword with both hands for more than five seconds, no wards or armor greater than a leather jerkin, no lighting aflame of swords," that one seemed odd to him, "and if it judged good to the combatant, they may spare a beaten opponent's life. Those are the rules we shall fight by."
Arlen was nearly tempted to say no to the whole thing. With the way he fought it would be nearly impossible for him to win. Daras was more used to this sort of fighting, which gave him an entirely too large advantage. While he was opposed to fighting by these rules, and with little to nothing at stake, he wouldn't be labeled a coward for refusing. "I agree. Noon?"
"Noon," Daras said. "I await eagerly our contest." And Daras left Arlen thinking about what he had just done and how dumb he was.
He wasn't alone either. "How could you do that?" Lynde yelled at him.
"I'm wondering the same thing," Arlen said.