"If Lord Rafin makes an impressive showing at the tournament, he will surely have a chance to meet a young lady of a good noble house. Lord Rafin's build and strength already surpass any grown man's, and he is uncommonly handsome as well. And though it is a little awkward for me to say so, hasn't a want of renown and legitimacy always been shored up through marriage ties?"
"......My eldest son is handsome, I'll grant you. He takes after me."
Vilhe thought Jamas's words were less impertinent than genuinely practical advice. He had no intention of denying it. As it happened, Rafin had also inherited his father's bold-featured, manly looks.
Judging by Vilhe's expression, Jamas thought he could win him over. The lord was not an overbearing man; he was the sort who listened to an opinion if it was explained reasonably.
Vilhe went on.
"I'd rather not decide this alone. I'll talk it over with my wife."
"Then I shall wait."
Jamas returned to his own room. He hadn't mentioned it to the lord earlier, but there was another reason House Rosrad might take an interest in Rafin. Rafin's grandfather had once thrown himself into danger on the battlefield to save the life of House Rosrad's lord, Anchin Rosrad.
If Lord Rafin made a good showing at the tournament, House Rosrad would surely want to keep him close or put him to important use.
The next day, Jamas received the lord's permission to enter Rafin in the jousting tournament.
Jamas had believed that the lord's wise lady would surely allow Lord Rafin to take part in the tournament. What if the lady of the castle, Lady Marge Egion, had been born a man? She might well have become someone who could raise her house to great heights.
***
Ivan heard from Jamas that Rafin had been permitted to enter the jousting tournament. He brought it up after he had finished sword training with Rafin, while the two of them sat in chairs at the training ground drinking water and resting.
"Lord Rafin, I've brought good news!"
Ivan's face was all smiles.
"What news?"
Ivan's eyes were sparkling.
"House Rosrad is going to hold a jousting tournament in 3 months. They say House Valone can send one man too."
"Really?"
Rafin sprang to his feet.
"I strongly recommended to the scholar that you should be the one to go. No one knows your outstanding martial skill better than I do, after all. And the lord has given his permission."
Ivan wore a satisfied look, as if proud of himself for recommending Rafin.
"Haha, that's great. I'll get to show what all that hard training with you has produced, Master."
"You've applied yourself diligently to your training all this time, Lord Rafin. You're happy, aren't you?"
"Of course. From tomorrow I'll have to concentrate on lance training. By the way, what's the occasion for House Rosrad holding a jousting tournament? It can't be cheap to host one."
"This tournament is being held because it's been 50 years since House Rosrad received the title of Northern Grand Duke. You don't usually get to see a tournament like this."
"Then a lot of formidable knights and knight candidates will be taking part."
"They will. But don't worry. You may only be 15, Lord Rafin, but you've already surpassed me in skill. You can certainly do well."
Rafin clenched his fist. It was a once-in-a-lifetime chance. The opportunity to prove his skill had finally come. He thought back on all the moments he had spent since childhood honing his riding, swordsmanship, and lance work.
'I want to win......!'
Rafin clenched his fist tight.
"If I'm going to compete at all, I should win it."
Ivan had boasted that Rafin would place in the top 3 at the tournament in Rosrad, but he expected that, at worst, Rafin would make the top 5. Even a top-5 finish would be a great achievement, considering he was only 15 and not yet of age. Even so, Ivan thought winning the whole thing would be hard.
"W-w-win it?"
"Of course. From tomorrow, no more sword training; we'll have to train hard on horsemanship and lance work. Please get things ready for that."
"Yes. We'll do that. If you win, Lord Rafin, you'll raise the name of House Valone high. Still, don't push yourself too hard. No, more than that, not getting hurt comes first!"
Ivan still remembered vividly how, the moment Lord Rafin took his first steps as a toddler, he had set the boy on a donkey's saddle with his own hands.
Ivan made preparations for the horsemanship training. Humble House Valone had next to no military strength, and it even had to scrimp on the cost of keeping horses, so Winstio Castle kept a mere 10 or so horses.
Ivan and three guards helped Rafin prepare for the tournament. Rafin had ridden from the time he began to walk. Everyone had been astonished to see him on horseback as a toddler. They had never seen anyone ride so skillfully at such a young age, and he wasn't even from a nomad tribe. Ivan was a fairly good rider himself, but even he had only started riding at around 10.
A lance was generally 2.7 to 4 meters long. Rafin had long used a short lance of under 3 meters.
Part of it came from his lance training on horseback with his master, but rolling around real battlefields in his past life had also taught Rafin that a short lance handled better and offered more chances to counterattack. It let him make unorthodox moves at moments his opponent didn't expect, which suited Rafin's style.
A lance close to 4 meters would of course have a longer reach, but its length made it heavier and slower to turn, so it handled worse. In his days as knight commander, his strength had been catching opponents off guard with unorthodox attacks.
As he trained on horseback, Rafin was searching for the feel of making horse and lance one with himself. Calluses were steadily forming on the hand that gripped the lance.
Rafin tugged lightly on the reins and thrust his lance at the scarecrow in front of him.
CRACK!
The sturdy scarecrow's head flew off in a single blow.
Ivan whistled.
***
With some ten days left before the jousting tournament, Rafin had finished all his preparations. He set out with his sword instructor, Ivan, for Unton, where House Rosrad was seated.
From Philia to Unton was a week's journey on foot.
They reached Unton exactly a week after setting out. Rafin had only ever been to his home of Philia and the small villages nearby; this was his first time coming as far as Unton.
Ivan had been there a few times in his youth. Ivan sought out the Golden Cask Inn in the busy quarter near Barad Castle.
The tournament invitation House Rosrad had sent named an inn the house had designated to take care of lodging. Those from houses of renown could lodge inside Barad Castle, but Rafin, who came from House Valone, did not qualify.
Rafin and Ivan unpacked in a room on the inn's 2nd floor. Rafin looked over every corner of the room. The building was an old one, but the inside was kept clean, so there was no musty smell.
Rafin swiped a finger once across the table, then muttered.
"There's no dust."
"If it had been a filthy inn, I'd have been put out. After walking all the way to Unton."
Rafin looked out the inn's window at Barad Castle in the distance. It was far larger than Winstio Castle back home.
"We've been invited to the jousting tournament, yet we can't stay at the castle."
"The invitation they sent us said to take our lodging here at the Golden Cask Inn. Then again, going by the inn's name alone, the drink and food should be good. Haha."
"I'm a bit peckish. Let's go down and eat. If we can't stay at the castle, we should at least eat plenty. There's no limit on what we can eat, right?"
"House Rosrad won't be that petty. Let's go down and ask."
The two went to the inn's dining hall on the 1st floor and took their seats. There were many people eating in the dining hall, but luckily a few seats were still free.
When Ivan raised his hand, a middle-aged serving man came over.
"We've come to this inn for the jousting tournament. We'd like to order some food."
"I know. A great many knights and squires from all over have come to our inn. I'll bring you the menu. Please wait a moment."
Calls for the serving man rang out from all over.
"Over here! More ale."
"We're out of water!"
"Yes, yes, coming right up."
The serving man was busy.
When Rafin looked carefully at the people around him, most of them were young men who looked to be knights or squires.
A huge, muscular man and a man with a sharp gaze seemed to be knights. Their air was different from that of the squires beside them.
One of them met Rafin's eyes. The tip of his nose was pointed too, which made his sharp gaze feel all the more intense.
The man asked in a low voice.
"You a competitor too?"
When Rafin looked at the man, he was reminded of a knight under his command who had shared life and death, joy and hardship with him in his past life. It was a man he was seeing for the first time, yet somehow he felt a kinship.
Rafin nodded, then gave him a crisp thumbs-up.
The man saw that the young-looking Rafin's eyes showed no sign of being cowed, and that he was relaxed enough to give a thumbs-up, and his lips curled into a thin, sly smile.
'Hmph, this should be interesting.'
The serving man brought the menu.
Ivan asked.
"Is there a set menu, or a limit on portions?"
"Nothing like that. As it happens, the lord gave orders that everyone taking part in this jousting tournament is to be provided room and board without the slightest inconvenience. Thanks to that, my master is pleased to be making a great deal of money. Order whatever you'd like to eat."
"Oh, is that so?"
Ivan looked at Rafin and grinned.
"You eat twice as much as I do, Lord Rafin. Eat to your heart's content."
Ivan and Rafin ordered roast mutton, beef stew, and ale.
The food came out. Rafin tore off a big piece of mutton, stuffed his mouth full, and chewed noisily. Then he wet his throat with a gulp of ale.
"The food here lives up to the inn's name. It's good. I was almost a little disappointed about not getting into the castle. But I feel better now."
"Haha. You're a simple soul, Lord Rafin. Eat plenty, and let's get a good result."
The people eating around them were abuzz with talk about the jousting tournament.
"Did you hear the prize money for the winner is huge?"
"Yeah? How much?"
"50 gold coins."
"Eh, that much?"
"Then what about second place?"
"Half of 50."
"That's a lot of money too."
"The lord is a generous man."
"It's for the Northern Grand Duke's 50th anniversary. He ought to spend at least that much."
Everyone taking part in the tournament was an adult, except Rafin. His build was already a man's, but his face still had a boyish look.
This was the first time Ivan had heard the size of the prize.
"The prize money is big. How wonderful it would be if you won, Lord Rafin. Even second place would be tremendous. You'll probably be the youngest of everyone in this tournament."
"If I win, I'll give you a big share, Master."
"Haha. Thank you, even if it's only talk."
Ivan's laugh was a little loud. Just then, voices drifted over from the next table.
"Singing the victory song before the battle, I see."
"Big dreams, eh."
"Hahaha."
"Haha."
The voices from the next table grated on Ivan's and Rafin's ears.
Ivan sprang to his feet.