New musicians entered and began playing a formal tune as gentlemen, including Gilbert and Elgar, took the hands of ladies and led them to the dance floor. Hadrian had no idea how to dance. Nimbus had not even tried to instruct him. The Duke and Duchess of Rochelle also left to join in. A clear line of sight opened between Hadrian and Albert.
“So, Sir Hadrian, is it?” the viscount asked, shifting down to take Lady Genevieve’s vacated chair. “Is this your first time in the banquet hall?”
“Indeed, it is.”
“The palace is large and has an impressive history. I’m sure that during your recent recovery you’ve not had an opportunity to visit much of it. If you aren’t planning to dance, I’d be happy to give you a tour. There are some fine paintings and frescoes on the second floor that are exquisite.”
Hadrian glanced at the men still watching him.
“I’m sure they are, Viscount, but I think it might be rude to leave the feast so early. Our hosts might look poorly on me for doing so.” He motioned toward the head table, where Saldur and Ethelred sat. “I wouldn’t want to incur their disfavor so early in the celebrations.”
“I understand completely. Have you found your accommodations at the palace to your liking?”
“Yes, indeed. I have my own room in the knights’ wing. Regent Saldur has been most generous, and I have nothing to complain about as far as my quarters are concerned.”
“So you have reason to complain otherwise?” Albert inquired.
Carefully choosing his words, Hadrian replied, “Not a complaint, really. I am merely concerned about my performance in the coming tournament. I am going to be competing against many renowned knights, such as Sir Breckton here. It is extremely important that I do well in the joust. Some very distinguished people will be watching the outcome quite closely.”
“You should not be so concerned,” Breckton mentioned. “If you are true to the knight’s code, Maribor will guide you. What others may think has no weight on the field. The truth is the truth, and you know whether you live in accord with it or not. From this you will draw your strength or weakness.”
“Thank you for your kind words, but I am not merely riding for myself. A success in this tournament will change the fortunes of those I care about as well… my, ah, retinue.”
Albert nodded.
Sir Breckton leaned forward. “You are that concerned about the reputation of your squires and grooms?”
“They are as dear to me as family,” Hadrian responded.
“That is most admirable. I can’t say I have ever met a knight so concerned with the well-being of those who serve him.”
“To be honest, sir, it is mainly for their welfare that I ride. I only hope they do nothing to dishonor me, as some of them are prone to poor judgment—rash and risky behavior—usually on my behalf, of course. Still, in this instance, I prefer they would merely enjoy the holiday.”
Albert gave another nod and drained the last of his wine.
Ballentyne took another drink as well. He swallowed, burped loudly, and then slouched with his elbow on the table, resting a palm against his cheek. Hadrian surmised that it would not be long before the earl passed out completely.
The monk and the gray-bearded fellow bid the table good night. The two wandered off while debating the Legend of Kile, the significance of Saldur’s story, and the true nature of the man Hadrian had allegedly met in the forest.
“Well, it has been a delight to dine with you all,” Albert said, rising. “I am not used to such rich living, and this wine has gone to my head. I fear I will make a fool of myself should I remain, so I will retire.”
The two knights bid him farewell, and Hadrian watched as Albert left the hall without looking back.
Having no one else left to converse with, Hadrian turned to Breckton. “Did your father not attend, or is he seated somewhere else?”
Breckton, whose attention was focused toward the front of the hall, took a moment to respond. “My father chose not to come. If not for the request of my lord here”—he gestured at the earl, who did not react—“I would not have attended either. Neither of us is in a mood for celebrations. We only recently learned that my younger brother Wesley died in the empress’s service.”
Hadrian replied in a somber voice, “I’m sorry for your loss. I’m sure he died with honor.”
“Thank you, but death in service is not unexpected. It would be a comfort to know the circumstances. He died far from home, serving aboard the Emerald Storm, which was lost at sea.” Breckton got to his feet. “Please excuse me. I think I’ll also take my leave.”
“Of course, good evening to you.”
He watched Breckton go. The knight had the same stride as his brother, and Hadrian had to remind himself that the two choices he faced were equally unpleasant. Even without his emotional ties, two lives were more valuable than one. Breckton was a soldier, and as he himself had stated, death in service was not unexpected. Hadrian had no choice, but that fact did little to ease his conscience.
Ballentyne’s head slipped off his hand, making a solid thud as it hit the table.
Hadrian sighed. Like knighthood, noble feasts were not as illustrious as he had expected.
CHAPTER 11
KNIGHTLY VIRTUE