“There is only one road, so we can ride together for some way,” said the Black Knight with the Red Shield. “Is that man with you?” He pointed at Quibo, who was slowly trudging along.
“My squire,” said Ristridin.
“Oh! I am travelling alone, as you can see. I am Sir Kraton of Indigo.”
Ristridin gave him a nod and said, “I know your name, Sir Kraton.”
“Of Indigo,” said the other man, with a frown. And when Ristridin said nothing, he went on, “Or are you disputing my right to call myself by that name?”
“I am not disputing any right, Sir Kraton,” said Ristridin, rather surprised.
“Of Indigo!” repeated Kraton. “My castle may have been destroyed by the elder son of King Unauwen, but I shall rebuild it! And the name of Indigo cannot be destroyed, even though that is what your refusal to utter it was intended to suggest.”
“I was not suggesting anything,” said Sir Ristridin coldly, “Sir Kraton of Indigo!”
The other knight looked him up and down, and said, “I have come from the City of Dagonaut and am on my way to the south. And you?”
“I, too, am heading south,” replied Ristridin.
“Where did you come from?”
“From the north.”
“And your name?”
“Will remain unknown,” said Ristridin. “But we can travel together, if you have no objections to the company of a knight with no name.”
“But I do object!” cried Kraton. “I told you my name, and you are insulting me if you do not tell me yours and raise your visor!”
“My apologies,” said Ristridin without moving.
“Are we not in the Kingdom of Dagonaut, where peace reigns?” Kraton continued. “There are no conspiracies here, no assassins, no robber barons and others who choose to lurk in shadows, are there? So whatever possesses you to ride around like that?” Again he studied Ristridin closely.
“That is my business, Sir Kraton of Indigo,” he said brusquely, pulling at the reins of his horse.
But Sir Kraton blocked his way. “That is not good enough,” he said.
“Hell, heaven and all the saints,” sighed Red Quibo. “This is all we need!”
There was no way out of the conflict, though. Ristridin knew he and Kraton could not let each other go. This knight from Eviellan must not be allowed to discover his identity; the enemy had to believe he was still imprisoned, harmless, locked away in Islan. Perhaps Kraton already had his suspicions about who he was dealing with – and even suspicions could be dangerous if he shared them with his king. The only solution was a duel.
“I see. So that is not good enough for you, Sir Kraton,” said Ristridin. “Please continue. I am at your disposal.”
Kraton did not respond immediately. He suddenly seemed more hesitant.
“I am waiting!” said Ristridin, raising his voice.
With an angry gesture, Kraton pulled off his glove and threw it at Ristridin.
“I am pleased to accept your challenge,” said Ristridin calmly. “What are the conditions?”
“Your name!” barked Kraton. “And I want you to raise your visor.”
“If you win… fine. But what if I should win?”
“I have nothing to hide,” said Kraton sarcastically. “Just tell me what you want from me.”
“If I win, you must come with me to my destination.”
“A fine condition!” cried Kraton. “A goal that is unknown to me!”
“I shall reach it today,” said Ristridin. “But if you wish to be the only one who imposes a condition…”
“Fine. I accept!” cried Kraton. “I do not expect to be defeated by some ragged knight with no name. How will we fight?”
“I have no weapon but my sword.”
“With the sword, then,” said Kraton, putting aside his dagger and battle-axe. “And on horseback, until one of us is disarmed and lying on the ground.”
“Agreed,” said Ristridin. He looked at Quibo and said, “Wait, and watch.”
“Yes, sir knight,” said Quibo.
Ristridin thought, If this turns out badly, will he be bright enough to ride on to Castle Ristridin and tell them what has happened? He could say nothing else now to his travelling companion. But, drawing his sword, he thought this could not, must not, turn out badly. He was definitely as strong as his opponent; only Kraton’s horse seemed superior to his own.
Sir Kraton threw his shield to Quibo. “There,” he said, “and now we are equal.” So he was a man who fought with chivalry, as a true knight should.
He was also a formidable fighter, although he’d met his match in Ristridin. But Ristridin was fighting for the future of two kingdoms. Perhaps Kraton sensed that, because his attacks were fierce and fast, designed to bring the fight to a quick end.
But Ristridin parried all of his slashes and blows, and hit back all the harder. His horse really did put him at a disadvantage, though – not only was it tired, but it was untrained for combat. His opponent’s steed was far more agile. So he redoubled his efforts, pressing close to Kraton and dealing him a blow that glanced off his helmet.
The Black Knight swayed in his saddle, and Ristridin seized the chance to pull him from his horse. Both men fell, but Ristridin had already slid his feet out of the stirrups, and he was the first to stand up again.
He heard Quibo’s voice, high and shrill, “Hit him, stab him!” But Ristridin waited for Kraton to get back to his feet.
Now they really were equal. Dust flew up as the clashes of metal on metal rang out, and both men were slightly wounded.
Then Ristridin raised his sword and struck so powerfully that Kraton’s sword broke. Ristridin cast aside his own weapon, pounced on his opponent and threw him to the ground. “I win,” he said, panting as he leant over him.
Kraton moved a little and mumbled something. Ristridin helped him to sit up.
“Yes, you win,” Kraton growled. “You can let go of me. I’m still alive.”
But then he allowed Ristridin to help him to his feet; he walked up and down a few times with his broken sword in his hand.
“Have you recovered sufficiently to continue?” asked Ristridin.
“Certainly, Knight with No Name,” said Kraton. “Lead me to your unknown destination.”
Quibo came closer.
“Take Sir Kraton’s battle-axe and dagger,” Ristridin ordered him.
“I am still capable of carrying them myself,” said Kraton.
“You will not need them on our journey,” said Ristridin. “Mount your horse, Sir Kraton of Indigo.”
Kraton glared at him. “I know one thing now,” he said. “Your name must be very well known indeed! Otherwise I would not be riding with you now, against my will.”
“Stay close to my side,” Ristridin said. He did not like the flicker in Kraton’s eyes. This knight surely suspected he was an enemy and could well try to escape.
“How many more bends?” Red Quibo shouted from behind them.
There, before them, was the familiar outline of Castle Ristridin on the Grey River.
“Is that your goal?” asked Kraton.
“Indeed it is,” replied Ristridin.
“Well, that is indeed convenient,” said Kraton. “As it happens, I was also heading to the castle. I stopped there on my way to the City of Dagonaut, too. It’s a most hospitable place. Does that surprise you?”
“No, Sir Kraton,” said Ristridin. “Why should it surprise me?”
“I thought you might be one of those knights who have something against me and my compatriots,” replied Kraton. “Sir Arturin is not like that. He knows there is peace between Dagonaut and Eviellan.”
Ristridin did not reply. He had already decided what he was going to do, and though he didn’t like the prospect it was unavoidable. There was no peace between Dagonaut and Eviellan; soon the gloves would come off.
Kraton watched him out of the corner of his eye and remained silent. But he seemed to understand that he was in danger, because as they approached the castle he reined in his horse and said, “We have reached our goal.”
“Not yet,” replied Ristridin. “We are going inside.”
They rode on and stopped at the closed drawbridge. Ristridin had always sounded his silver horn in the past, but now he merely asked in a loud voice to be admitted. With a grinding creak, the drawbridge descended.
“I have accompanied you to your destination,” said Kraton, “and now our ways must part.”
Kraton was about to spur on his horse, but Ristridin held it by the reins, drew his sword and cried, “What? You wish to flee? Dismount and come inside with me.”
“And what then?” said Kraton, angry and uneasy. “Is this a trap? What can I expect from you, Knight with No Name?”
“Exactly the same as I can expect from Eviellan,” replied Ristridin. “Dismount!”
On foot, they made their way onto the bridge. Soldiers came towards them and asked in surprise what was going on.
“This knight has lured me into a trap!” cried Kraton.
“We both request your hospitality,” said Ristridin. “Allow us to enter and announce our arrival to Sir Arturin.”
He took the reluctant Kraton by the arm and marched across the bridge with him. The soldiers walked with them, but made them stop inside the gateway.
“What is your name?” they asked Ristridin.
“Do not allow him in!” cried Kraton.
“This is the castle of my forefathers,” said his escort, now raising his visor. “So I am sure you must know my name! I am Ristridin of the South.”