Page 137 of The Robber Knight
Judging that it would give the man a betterchance to show his repentance, Reuben took his hand away from SirWilhelm's mouth. The knight promptly lunged and tried to sink histeeth into his opponent's hand.
“I'm sorry to say that I don't count that asa fitting apology,” Reuben told him, and raised his fist.
When, about a minute or so later, he rose tohis feet, Sir Wilhelm wasn't biting anymore. He didn't seem to becapable of doing much more than lying on the floor andgroaning.
With a brilliant smile, Reuben turned to theinnkeeper. “That's settled. Well, would you be so kind as to havemy things brought up to my room now?”
Signore Accorso opened his mouth, closed it,and opened it again. It was all too clear what he wished to say.Whether or not he dared to was another matter entirely.
However, he was spared the peril of an answerby the intervention of his two servants, who had sneaked back intothe room and were now helping Sir Wilhelm back to his feet. Theknight looked a bit cross-eyed, but most of all, red withwrath.
“You,” he rasped, pointing a shaking fingerat Reuben. “You are really a knight?”
“I swear by my the honor of my house, Sir,”Reuben said with a courteous bow, “that I am Sir Reuben vonLimburg, son of Heinrich, Duke von Limburg, Count von Berg, andHigh Commander of the...”
“Yes, yes! You are of age, and you areknighted?”
“Indeed I am, Sir.”
“And you intend to compete in thetournament?”
“That is my intention. Have you regrettedyour words? Do you wish to apologize?”
“On the contrary.” With a dangerous glint inhis eyes, Sir Wilhelm shook off the two servants who were trying toclean his stained surcoat, and pulled the glove from his left hand.With two strides, he was in front of Reuben, who, knowing what SirWilhelm was going to do, did nothing to stop him.
The glove slapped across his face with alittle bit too much force. He winced inwardly, but did not let thepain show. The glove slipped away and landed in front of him on thefloor.
“I,” said the knight, “Sir Wilhelm vonRichtershalden, challenge you, Sir Reuben von Limburg, to a contestof arms at the great tournament of Palermo. God shall decide whichone of us is in the right. Shall you meet me in the field and letthe strength of our arms speak for us?”
“I shall,” Reuben replied with a broad smile,bending to pick up the gauntlet. Wonderful! He had been in Palermofor only one day, and already he had his first duel scheduled. Thiswas truly the land of adventure he had been looking for.
Sir Wilhelm turned his hot gaze to theinnkeeper. Reaching into his purse, he flipped the man a coin,which the Sicilian caught expertly. “For the damage,” Sir Wilhelmsaid. “Let him stay. Give him a room, food, wine, everything hewants.”
He turned his eyes back to Reuben, and theheat in them intensified.
“When I've run him through with my lance,I'll come and pay his bill.”
The Marvel of theWorld
Reuben took care of one more thing before turning infor the night: he rode up to the Royal Palace and had a guarddirect him to the herald who was in charge of organizing thetournament and to whom all who wished to compete had to apply. Theherald hadn't taken quarters in the palace itself, but forpractical reasons, had erected a small tent for himself next to thestands which already surrounded the square in front of the palace.The tent was small and made of plain material, and so was the manwho stepped out of it as Reuben approached—his clothes, however,were of a nobler origin.
Like all heralds, he wore a special surcoatcalled a tabard, which, in magnificent colors, displayed the coatof arms of his master. And this herald displayed on his tabard twodifferent crests: one showing three black lions on golden ground,and another showing a black eagle on golden ground. The crest ofthe Imperial House of Hohenstaufen, and the official crest of theHoly Roman Empire. Reuben knew immediately: this man stood indirect service to the Emperor, answerable to him alone.
As he left his tent, the herald spotted theyoung knight on the other side of the yard right away, which didn'tcome as a surprise to Reuben. When you were nearly seven feet talland riding a massive black horse, people tended to notice you.
Reuben took his time crossing the square.There were many people about, working with hammer and nail tocomplete the stands, putting up banners, cleaning, and building.Reuben let his eyes wander, surveying the battle ground that wasbeing prepared. He always found it useful to take an impression ofthe ground before starting a fight. Thus, he knew exactly where toknock his enemies down.
When he finally reached the herald, hedismounted and nodded a greeting. The herald, perceiving the coatof arms on Reuben's surcoat, bowed deeply in return.
“Greetings, Sir,” he said, his voice soundinga bit tired. It was clear he had had a day of knights coming to himto apply to have their noses broken and heads bashed in. “How may Iserve you?”
“I would like to compete in the tournamentthat will be held in honor of the Emperor’s arrival,” Reuben said,with a smile. Patience and kindness were among the most importantvalues a knight was meant to pursue.
“I see, Sir.” From atop a stack of booksbeside the entrance to the tent, the herald took a slate andpencil, starting to look for a free place for the newcontestant.
“What is your name, if I may ask, Sir?”
The man’s gaze was still bored. He obviouslyhadn't looked at Reuben's ducal crest closely enough to realizewhom he was dealing with, and thought this was just another youngknight from the Sicilian provinces come to try his luck.
