Chapter 11 — The Duke

Dre, Morgan, Barnes, and Charles sat in an awkward silence in the carriage.

Dre looked up. Charles was staring at him with curiosity.

“You never seen a Black man before?”

Charles raised his eyebrows.

“Black man?”

Morgan grinned.

“Don't worry, Charles. He doesn't bite.”

“The fuck you mean I don't bite?”

Charles was embarrassed.

Barnes developed a devious smile. He couldn't resist joining in.

“Are you interested in him, brother? I noticed you still haven't taken a wife.”

Charles tried to speak, but started stuttering.

Morgan laughed so hard he held his side.

“Sir, we're almost at the compound.”

Morgan could see a large mansion surrounded by a stone gate. Watchtowers stood at every corner and halfway down each wall. Wooden spikes were positioned at an angle, pointing away from the walls. The walls themselves were angled inward, making them nearly impossible to scale.

“So this is your house?” Dre asked.

“No. This is our family's compound. This is where we train and house the knights of our domain.”

Charles nodded in agreement.

“Our father kicked us out after we became knights. He said Barnes and I wouldn't ride the coattails of his success if we wanted to make a name for ourselves.”

Morgan's eye twitched.

What kind of father would not want his sons to follow the success he built?

Then again, he never wished for Arthur to follow in his footsteps.

He began thinking about how he had taught Arthur survival skills, critical thinking, military tactics, and even self-defense.

He couldn't help but let a smile slip as he thought about how smart Arthur was.

“I need to get home.”

He noticed Dre, Barnes, and Charles were looking at him.

He had said that out loud.

In the Compound

“Charles, could you let Father know we have arrived? We need to get cleaned up. We're filthy.”

“Yeah, sure. Don't take too long. He's been in a pissy mood lately.”

Dre and Morgan walked behind Barnes, admiring the decorations on the walls.

Morgan and Dre stopped at one spot. A giant plaque of names stood in several columns, beside what looked like dates from this world.

Dre spoke first.

“What is this, Barnes?”

“A memorial of men who fought and died with our house in battle. A tradition that was started by my grandfather.”

Morgan couldn't help but recognize the resemblance to memorials from his world.

Was this from a summoned person as well?

“Some of my best friends are on there. They would have liked you two.”

Barnes started walking down the hallway, and Dre and Morgan followed.

They walked into the bath chamber, and Morgan and Dre's eyes went wide.

“Are those showers?” Morgan asked excitedly.

“You know of them?”

“Well, yeah. We have them in our world!”

Morgan began stripping down and ran into one of the stalls.

“Hey! How do I turn this thing on?”

Barnes chuckled.

“They work with runes, a technology my grandfather invented. Put your hand over the mark on the right.”

Morgan felt the water begin to trickle from above him.

It was warm.

As it washed over his body, all the soot and dried blood washed off with surprising ease. Within a few moments, he was completely clean.

“Holy shit, this is amazing.”

“There's some fresh clothes for you out here. They're mine, so they should fit you rather well.”

The three of them moved through the hallway feeling refreshed.

Morgan noticed how soft and comfortable the clothes felt compared to what he had been supplied with at the castle.

“When we meet Father, do not speak unless spoken to. Do not provoke him. After we explain everything, he may address you. Do not lie. He has a skill that can tell if you are.”

They stood before a large door when Morgan noticed Barnes looked uneasy.

He knocked.

“Sire! I have come to report!”

There was a pause.

Then a deep voice answered.

“Enter.”

Barnes opened the door.

As it opened, a heavy pressure flooded over Morgan.

He must be extremely powerful.

Entering the room, the smell of food filled their noses.

A long table littered with dishes sat in the center.

A man about the same size as Barnes stepped forward. His appearance was familiar to Morgan, even though he had never met him. He almost resembled his son Arthur in a way.

He made his way over and stood in front of Barnes.

Barnes was visibly nervous.

His father stood about a foot taller than Barnes, with a glare that would make most children cry.

“Thank the gods you're okay, my boy!”

His hand slapped down on Barnes' shoulder, almost knocking him over.

“I must say, I got worried when I found out that Gordon Graystone was leading the raiding party.”

“How did you know about him?”

“Your messenger told me, after he kicked my door in to wake me up. Consider training that man as a vanguard. He seems quite capable.”

Dre and Morgan caught each other's glances.

For as dangerous as he seemed, right now he was acting like a proud, devoted father.

“Now, let's get down to business.”

He pointed at Dre and Morgan.

“Who are they?”

Dre stepped forward.

“I'm Dre Jones, sir. Your son saved my life in that fight.”

“Well met. And you?”

Morgan stepped forward, standing in line with Dre.

His military bearing was in full effect.

“Sir, I am Morgan Sterling.”

The air shifted.

Barnes' father moved toward Morgan.

Barnes shot a sharp glance toward him as well.

Morgan felt as if the atmosphere itself was struggling to keep the air in the room.

“Could you be…”

“Father, he saved my life in that fight as well. Please don't harass the men I'm indebted to now.”

His father smiled.

“Well met, Mr. Sterling. I am Duke William. How did you two manage to get mixed in all of this?”

“Actually, Father, that's why we're here. These two are Electi.”

“I see.”

William started toward the table.

“We eat first. We'll talk in the study.”

Morgan sat between Barnes and Dre.

Their stomachs growled. It had been almost an entire day since they had eaten.

Chicken, lamb, various meats, and bread were spread across the table.

“Dig in. You need to regain your strength.”

Morgan's mouth was watering.

The food at the pub had been good, but this food was fantastic.

He considered asking the Duke if he could work there for the next year for the food alone.

After they had eaten their fill, Morgan and Dre followed the Duke, Charles, and Barnes to the study.

Morgan noticed two guards standing at the door. One wore a helmet that covered his face, and the other was Klein, a man who frequently shadowed Barnes.

There was also a butler standing behind Duke William. He was an older gentleman dressed in well-tailored clothes with remarkable facial hair.

After Duke William sat in his chair, he opened what looked to be a journal.

“What happened out there, son? And what is so dire that you use that language?”

Barnes took a deep breath.

His face darkened as he remembered the events of the night before.

“Firstly, I need you to completely hear me out before you speak or act.”

William leaned back in amusement.

Barnes was always a soft-spoken man. Even after coming back from campaigns, he would tiptoe around him with his words.

He felt a little pride knowing that his son was growing a backbone deserving of his family name.

“Very well, but do not leave anything out.”

“First of all, these two men are dangerous. Please do not fight them, or it will bring ruin to us all. We should make them allies. Give them positions of authority in our ranks.”

William choked on his drink.

“Do what?”

“Father, Morgan and Dre are summoned. The King, in all his foolishness, has performed the ritual again.”

William grabbed his chin as he began to flip through the journal, stopping on a page near the back.

He was visibly irritated.

“One thing to note. Morgan killed John, the commander of the King's Royal Guard, within minutes of being summoned, which may have led to what transpired last night.”

William started writing.

“I believe that action put a target on his back, which is why I took both of them out of the capital and to our domain. No one should have known where we were. There must have been someone extremely skilled following us.”

He paused.

“Next, the men who attacked us had the sigil of Duke Stanton.”

William came out of his seat.

“That fucking whoreson!”

“Father, it was a massacre.”

“How many of our brothers did that bastard take from us?”

“Five aspiring squires.”

William looked confused.

How did Barnes consider so few numbers to be such a great loss?

“You just said it was a—”

Barnes cut him off.

“It was. For them.”

He gestured toward Morgan and Dre.

“Father, these two men cut down a force of around a hundred and fifty men in mere minutes.”

William tried to piece it all together.

“How did you manage that?”

He was looking at Morgan and Dre now.

Morgan cleared his throat.

“I, uh, used my skill called Detonate on rocks and threw them into groups of soldiers, kind of like a grenade. Barnes was right. That skill is effective.”

William was surprised.

That was a tactic his father had taught him when he was just a boy.

Maybe he really is—

William looked over at Dre.

“And you? What did you do?”

“Morgan had me go after the largest man there because of my SS rank and strength. Bastard was tough. I would have died to him if Barnes hadn't reached me when he did.”

Barnes spoke.

“The two men of note were Gordon Graystone and his brother, whom they call the Bear.”

“What of them?”

“I engaged Gordon in combat and severely wounded him, but he managed to escape. The Bear was slain thanks to Sir Morgan.”

Morgan shifted uncomfortably.

He had never liked getting attention for a kill that he had made.

“Yeah, well, Dre fought him the entire time. He even threw hands with him after their swords broke. Those clashes were louder than my grenades.”

Dre rolled his eyes.

“I'm not paying for that sword either. Dude was glowing blue. It wasn't fair.”

Everyone stopped to look at him.

Dre considered telling them who he thought was keeping tabs on them, but he wanted more proof first. He decided not to bring it up.

“I see.”

William stood from his chair.

“I have heard enough. We will make for the castle for an audience with the King after we hold funeral rites for the squires.”

He met Morgan's gaze, holding it as if he were searching for answers to the universe.

“I am sorry you have been caught up in this territorial dispute. You and Dre are welcome to stay here at the compound, even join our house as bannermen.”

Morgan nodded.

This was the first time he felt welcomed in this world.

Someone was finally giving him a choice in what he did with his life, unlike the King.

That night, the bannermen lined the side courtyard of the compound.

There were eight formations creating a square.

In the center were five wood pyres. On top of those pyres lay the bodies of each squire.

In front of the pyres were civilians. Some were crying. The men, presumably their fathers, had their heads down.

Morgan's chest tightened.

His mind rushed with empathy for them.

He hoped he would never have to bury his children in his life.

Five well-decorated knights walked to each family and kneeled, handing them what looked like a coin purse and a sword.

Then they walked to the pyres, took their red capes, and covered the bodies with them.

Barnes, in a quiet voice, said, “Knights take the responsibility of life when they take on a squire. The money given is what they owe their family. The sword is proof they were a warrior who died with honor. The cape names them a knight in the name of the Duke.”

Slow horns began to play as archers sent flaming arrows into the pyres.

Morgan and Dre snapped to attention.

These young men had fought with them, and died because of their actions.

Morgan and Dre each breathed in deeply and simultaneously yelled,

“Till Valhalla!”

Every bannerman repeated the phrase as they drew their swords, extending them out to the right.

Barnes was surprised.

How did they know what to say?

Did these customs come from their world as well?