In Which Landus Hears a Not-Impossible Theory

July 25, 1177

Landus knew he ought to have been helping his brother, but Neilor probably needed the time to himself. Not that he would have taken out his disappointment on Landus--after a decade of being each other's only ally in a quietly hostile household, that wasn't much of a concern--but the moment alone would give him a chance to recompose. After all, Neilor hadn't just lost a little money and a pretty girl. He'd miss the pride a lot more.

But at least Neilor had made the top ten; they would be staying in Naroni, and while Neilor had aspired to more it was all Landus needed. They would leave briefly to take his sister Catherelle back for her wedding and after that Lord only knew when they'd have to see their mother again. He'd miss his father, of course... but then he remembered that his father was most likely not his father and it was probably best for the both of them if Landus was gone before people started talking about where they'd seen his face before.

Sorry, Papa...

"Mind if I sit?"

Landus pried himself up and looked. It was one of the spectators, a tall man who had been seated next to a pretty lady in what even a ten-year-old boy had to a call a princess dress. He must have been her husband. If he could land a woman that beautiful and afford to dress her that well, then Landus couldn't have stopped him from taking the seat if he wanted it. "Go ahead."

The man flashed a grin and strode forward. There was something about his prominent cleft chin that seemed familiar, though Landus couldn't quite place it. "You're Landus del Marinos, right?"

Landus frowned. "How do you know my name?"

"I used to know your mother."

Oh. That wasn't as surprising as it should have been. "A lot of people know my mother."

"She does have her connections." The man reclined against the step and glanced skyward. He must not have wanted to press the subject, which was just as well. "Your brother fought well."

"That's what I told him, but he didn't believe me."

"He will in time." He hoped the stranger was right. Neilor had proven himself a better fighter than fifty-eight other men and he'd only lost because his opponent had noticed his handicap and exploited it. There was no sense in being ashamed. Maybe just a little disappointed.

"Neilor says he doesn't think Ashe noticed it on his own. He thinks that knight with the scar told him when he sent Neilor off to talk to her ladyship." And given the conversation with her ladyship plus the loss of the fight, heaven help Sir Scarface if he ever ran into Neilor again.

"That would be one of my in-laws." The man shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face. "You know... maybe your brother will thank him in the long run. A man can enter a tournament and win a lady's hand, but not her heart. She could very well live the rest of her life resenting her status as her man's prize, and her man by extension. Your brother might not know it, but he may have dodged an arrow here."

Landus stared. He didn't known much about women if he knew anything at all, but it didn't not make sense. Maybe he'd introduce this man to Neilor at the banquet. "You think so?"

"I don't think it's impossible." The man reached over and ruffled Landus's hair, then stood. "Well, I'd better catch up with my wife. And you might want to get yourself cleaned up for the banquet; don't want to meet all the young ladies while you smell like your brother's horse now, do you?"

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