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A.R.Yngve

DARC AGES
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Dohan Damon

Chapter 7


Trumpets sounded through the morning air, signaling to the citizens that this was the day of the Summer Joust. The Summer Festival was to take place the very same day and evening; with dancing, singing, and drinking lasting beyond midnight.



From five neighboring cities, prominent guests and competitors arrived to Damon City. Their sleek jet vessels painted the sky with lines of colored vapor, before they sank down onto the landing-space outside the castle. And the guests walked down from their ships, dressed in splendid colors and decorated with their most expensive electronic ornaments. A myriad tiny, multicolored lamps blinked in the metal braids and collars of the wealthy, beautiful noblewomen. When the ladies took off their traveling-cloaks, they exposed straight skirts reaching to their ankles, with gold- and silver-embroidered family patterns.

The Oriental-featured Yotas, one of the most powerful families of North Castilia, were accompanied by little glittering thin-legged robots.

The Paskos, though impeccably dressed, wore little jewelry and brought no servant machines -- their resources were being directed elsewhere, which they kept silent about.

The minor, but highly admired Fache family was represented only by their champion Lord Azuch Fache and his servants. His absent wife was, as always, sick in bed.

And half an hour late as always, Lord Orbes and family landed on the field and came laughing down the ship ladder. They were the Damons' close allies, and it was expected that one of Orbes's sons would marry Bor's daughter Eveli in a few years.

Bor Damon and family arrived, bidding his esteemed visitors welcome with much good-hearted cheer. For this occasion, Bor wore the heavy electronic collar with his name inscribed, which worked as a portable computer and loudspeaker; it amplified his voice and carried shortwave commands to his robots. His beautiful and popular wife, Lady Osanna, escorted the noblewomen to the castle gardens for refreshments, while they waited for the men to prepare for the main event.

The young ladies-in-waiting tried to linger close to the young knights, as their mothers jokingly urged them onward. Tharlos tried to catch the eye of the graceful Lady Okono Yota, but she remained aloof. Several ladies eye-flirted with Sir Dohan as they strolled off, giggling.



The competitors of the five families greeted each other apart from the crowd, formally but with no visible hostility. Their elders, retired champions and noblemen, retreated to the castle with Bor Damon. Because they had trained armored combat since they were children, the knights had learned to control their body movements with the utmost calm. Their armored suits were more than just metal -- they were exo-skeletons. Responsive, powerful, and natural extensions of the knight's fighting abilities. Through T'ai Chi and other arts, the knights had mastered harmonic body control.

This early in the day, a few hours before the actual duelling, the fighters wore light, loose-fitting clothes covered by tunics in their family colors. Like their fathers, they mostly had crew-cut hair.

Sir Dohan Damon wore blue, red, and black in large checkered patterns. His short beard was as ruddy as his stubby hair, his eyes pale blue. Dohan behaved in a relaxed and friendly way; he mostly knew his competitors from last year, and they knew him.

Still, Dohan kept a careful eye on his arch-rival Tharlos -- wearing black, orange, and yellow -- who remained silent as the others exchanged jokes and boasts. Tharlos' dye-yellow hair made an eerie contrast to his dark, intense eyes that promised no friendship.
Lord Azuch Fache -- wearing white and green -- was the oldest of the champions, having remained at the top to the impressive age of thirty-seven. Though he rarely won the first prize nowadays, the younger knights looked up to him for advice on techniques and weapons care. Azuch had several tiny scars on his dark face and hands, from battles and jousts in his glorious past. His black eyes sometimes seemed to bury themselves in some secret memory, especially when he heard the sound of jet engines. Rumor had it that the battle against the Lepers of 930 A.M. had scarred his soul as well as his skin.

The Orbes family had as many as two young competitors: the adult champion Sir Saburé and his younger brother, the contender Sir Kensaburé. They looked very much alike, though -- both being squat and blond. Their colors were checkered blue and black. Of all the competitors, the Orbes's were ranked the least competent fighters, but compensated in good humor their lack of skill and control. The presence of the Orbes members was much appreciated at festivities and competitions -- if not in battle.

Sir Kamo Yota, the shortest of the fighters, wore red and white. He was about Dohan's age, but was already regarded as a future joust champion in spite of his short experience. Lord Yota had personally trained him toward perfection. Vhustank, Dohan's personal servant robot, served the competitors non-alcoholic drinks as they sat chatting on the marble benches next to the parked ships. Only young Kamo refused to drink.

He smiled courteously at his host and said: "Excuse me for not drinking, Sir Dohan. I am in need of deepest physical concentration, and must not disturb my body with foreign substances."

"You are excused," Dohan answered casually.

He decided, out of politeness, to change subject. Scanning the Yotas's sleek black aircraft, Dohan nodded thoughtfully. It had a very low profile, and a long rear flap instead of the standard snub-tailed rear ports of the other vessels. In length, it measured about fifteen meters. The craft also had three instead of the customary two jet tubes.

"Say, Kamo, that is an impressive new ship your family has built this year. How fast does it go?"

Kamo smiled again and bowed his head slightly, his half-shut eyes revealing little of his swelling pride.

"I should ask my esteemed father," Kamo said humbly. "He recently took it for a test flight, and when the ship reached maximum speed, the sound bang could be heard from miles away. Thus he named our ship 'The Roaring Wind'."

Murmurs of approval came from the impressed guests: reaching the speed of sound was very rare, even for the best jet ships.

Kensaburé Orbes wanted to save his friend's face, and intervened: "But your Sunray is no snail of a vessel either, eh, Dohan?"

Dohan suppressed a grin and said, as if to himself: "Well... it may not reach the speed of sound, but it navigates well and has a range of --" -- he stood up, pointing south -- "-- from here to North Awrica and back.

"With a light load and spare fuel," he added self-effacingly.

A rich, thoughtful voice sounded in the silence: "Word has it that Lord Damon has invited a special guest today..." The others turned to Azuch Fache, who stood up -- it was he who had asked the question. Azuch continued: "A guest from the past, or possibly the future. A white-haired man who is said to be immortal. Is this to be held as truth?"

Dohan hesitated. He knew next to nothing about Darc so far, and what little he had seen of him was hardly impressive. Clearly, his father's guest was an odd stranger -- he could barely speak their language properly. But Dohan sensed that Darc was part of some sly scheme to make his rivals nervous. It smelled of foul play, and Dohan did not want any part of it. He was going to prove himself like last year, without his father backing him up more than necessary.

"Do not believe everything you hear," he calmed them. "That stranger is no one in particular -- perhaps a fool or jester, who is here to entertain us with jokes and music."

Sir Tharlos Pasko glanced at Dohan and Azuch with a contemptuous face, saying nothing -- his nostrils widened, while not sniffing at his company, since he was too well trained at controlling his breath. But his mind was aflame with hateful thoughts: Just as I thought -- a trick to undermine my confidence. Did you think I would fall for such children's stories, you red-haired scum! Koban-Jem spits upon your mother's face.

The senior champion gave Dohan an inscrutable, grave look.

"You may think I am but an old man full of old wives' tales," Azuch said in his dark, slow baritone. "But tonight my wife dreamed of the return of the King." Everyone stopped breathing, even Kamo -- even Tharlos, who went pale white. It was widely known that Azuch's wife was something of an oracle. Mean tongues called her a witch in disguise... but all Castilians took her rare moments of vision deeply seriously. "I should not say more," Azuch excused himself when he saw their faces. "Forgive me."

The Orbes brothers both eagerly asked him to continue; like their father, they were superstitious to a fault. Azuch held up his hands to call for silence, and granted them a full story.

"This is what my wife told me. 'In my dream,' she said, 'I saw two dueling knights, fully armored. One wore yellow stripes, the other wore blue. The blue knight fought bravely, but the yellow knight was stronger. The yellow knight pressed on, and the blue knight lost his foothold.

"'Then, as it seemed that the blue knight would die, a tall man with white hair and clothes stepped forward. He struck with his silver sceptre and stopped the yellow knight's deathblow. The blue fighter rose to his feet and struck down the yellow fiend with all his might. The man in white raised his sceptre, opened his mouth, and sang -- but I could not hear the sound of his voice. Then my dream ended.' Those were her words."

The young men looked at Azuch -- the Orbes brothers were staring. Most of them, including Dohan, did not know what to think. But Azuch suddenly grinned, laughing at them.

"Calm yourselves, you hotheads! We do not know the ways of the Goddess... so live and see. Now stop trembling like toothless old folk, and prepare for manly combat!"

Laughing with released tension, the party split up and went to their respective tents. Their servants were already polishing their armor, charging the battery cells and testing the mechanisms. From the armory tents, the sounds of metal against metal mixed with the snaps of lasers and the whining of miniature jet engines.