“Is he an idiot or is he an idiot?” Cybill muttered, her back against a tree, shadows drifting.

The weather was ideal, warm without being too hot, and a hard breeze came in from the lake, sapped by the trees, and reaching them as a touch of coolness. The day, though, was nice because Ally stood beside her, leaning so their shoulders touched. Ally’s hair had recently been cut, which meant — unlike it usually did — it didn’t tickle Cybill’s neck and half her face; even so, the smell of sweat from their morning exercises drifted up from Ally, filling Cybill with a comfort she’d been lacking over the past few days.

“An idiot,” Ally responded in a mutter.

Cybill moved ever so slightly, resting her head against Ally’s. Their breaths were even, sharing warmth even though it wasn’t needed. In silence they let the moment pass, enjoying each other’s company.

In the distance were Odysseus, the Champion and the dire goat named Rollo. The pair shared low words as the Champion stood beside the goat, one hand at the beast’s side, curled into a claw in its woollen coat. Odysseus was dressed lightly, while the Champion wore armour the likes Cybill had never seen before.

“Perhaps it’s the armour,” she said.

Cybill couldn’t help but feel a hint of jealousy; two years she had been a lady-in-waiting and yet her armour and weapons were scraps that had been found locked away in the Mandaron family vaults. Champion Jordan, however, had been on this world for a few months and yet he had been gifted something that looked like bark and yet moved like cloth.

“It could be special,” she continued, crossing her arms. It had been two years and though she was in a position of honour, she had not risen in her standing whatsoever.

They all think Ally will grow bored of me, she thought.

Cybill’s frown only deepened as she thought of the past week, of Leonard the Mage who played at courting her, and of Baron Owain who had been doing his damnedest in trying to court Ally — and with all that Cybill had learnt of this place, she knew it was a matter of time before Ally was duty bound to find a husband.

“It is,” said Ally, the words low and tight. “It was crafted by the Great Healer, Ethelinda. Supposedly it is imbued with an advanced form of magic.”

“It doesn’t have celestial gems,” said Cybill. “At least none that I can see.”

“That is the part that makes it special,” Ally said dryly.

Cybill moved her arm, letting it brush past Ally’s, the backs of their hands touching. For a moment Ally tensed, looking around.

The clearing was empty save the four of them. Ellora, Freda and Jaslynn were engaged elsewhere — to become a lady-in-waiting was a great honour, raising them above the standing befitting a woman, but they were still required to find prospective husbands; and the guards had been dispatched, Ally and Cybill were skilled enough warriors that they could be trusted to protect the prince and the Champion.

The tension left Ally’s shoulders. Cybill felt Ally’s hand interlacing with hers.

“But special though it may be, I do not think it will give him the skill to compete against Owain and succeed,” Ally continued. “Not to speak of his bearing.”

“He fought against the carrier mother,” Cybill noted. She had been too focused on the battle to keep watch over the Champion, but she remembered the cacophony of his pistol, the blooms of fire and the smell of burnt spiders; to speak nothing of his eyes, easily spotting the minute grains of rock that heralded the approach of the burrowing lizards. “And he has good eyes. Sir Norbert was impressed.”

“There is a difference between fighting to survive and having the bearing of a warrior,” said Ally. “The Champion is no warrior. I can see it in him. He is much like Odysseus in that regard.”

“Yet he chose this path for himself,” Cybill said, watching as the Champion looked up at the goat, saying words that did not reach them. The goat leaned down, sniffing at a patch of grass before biting; it began to chew. The Champion smiled and patted the goat’s side; Odysseus said something and the Champion returned the words, his free arm gesticulating.

Dire beasts were not her speciality, but Cybill had heard of the goats of the Great Barrier Ridge — hardy beasts blessed with power over earth and an unearthly hardiness than most riding beasts lacked. Cybill had never seen one, for the peoples of Susserton were very particular where and when they gifted them out.

The Champion pulled his pistol free and pointed; he said something to Odysseus and the prince pressed his fingers in his ears. A bang followed, loud and rolling, eliciting cries from birds as they took to the skies; a ball of fire materialised and rolled through the air, getting smaller as it ran the length of the clearing, slamming into a tree and scorching bark — wisps of smoke drifted up in the aftermath.

Champion Jordan was less focused on his projectile, however, and more on the goat. The bang had spooked it and the beast had jumped, forcing Odysseus to rear back and away from its hooves; the Champion had only moved slightly back, going forward again, speaking low words, his arms out and posture calm. The gun, she noted, had been returned to its holster with something approaching grace.

“He was a shepherd,” said Cybill, watching as he spoke, his eyes keen and expression at ease. There was something in his shoulders, as if he was treading familiar ground, a sort of comfort she felt whenever she was on the battlefield.

“Was he?” Ally asked. Cybill shifted slightly, nodding. “How can you tell?”

“He reminds me of my cousin, Ronald,” she said. “The boy was deathly terrified of a great many things, even smaller boys who wanted to fight him, but not his livestock. The largest ox and he could stand his ground, corralling it. I see something similar in the Champion.”

“I think you might be right,” said Ally. “He may have mentioned something to that effect, his family had horses. Perhaps they were for his lord? But then I do not think he had lords? He sometimes rambles and my mind wanders.”

Cybill snorted, but continued her thoughts, “Perhaps, then, he is a hunter as well. It is what boys do, after all, out in the field when they have nothing better to occupy their time.”

“He did not seem so in the mines.”

Cybill turned, giving Ally her driest expression. “The mines terrify all who walk them their first time,” she said. “I remember you telling me the same was true for you.”

Ally’s lips pursed. “I was young.”

“I doubt it has anything to do with youth,” said Cybill. “Even Owain was fearful, but he hid it well behind his bravado. I was not there for your first time, but I can guess that it was the same for you.”

Ally pouted.

Cybill laughed. “Does the truth sting so harshly?”

“You do remember that I am to be your king?” said Ally.

“All going well,” Cybill muttered. Ally’s smile dulled and Cybill regretted bringing it up. “There is to be another hunt and…another opportunity.”

“It would be too much of a risk for the deed to be done in unfamiliar terrain,” said Ally, tone hard. “And it would only be stalling things. Althor is not at all like Connelly, where I would rightfully be accepted as king. I will be queen and if I marry anyone of any true standing, they will be named king.”

“Marry someone weaker, then,” Cybill almost spat. She knew the role before her — if she and Ally were still together when she married — that of a concubine. But even knowing this, having prepared herself in part, she was still discomforted by the notion.

“Were it only so simple,” said Ally, sighing. Deep brown eyes narrowed as they gazed into the distance. “I had thought for a moment that I might have an alternative.” Cybill turned, a brow pitching up. “A similar plan to the one we use in the Arena to hide my identity. The healers can warp flesh to great degrees and I had thought…I had thought they might do the same for me.”

“So that you might become Eldon?” Cybill asked.

“So that I might become Allyceus,” Ally muttered. “If I looked the part, then perhaps the benefits of being a man would be mine.”

“Is that not going too far?”

“I am doing it for my freedom. My aunts were married off to lesser men. Princesses though they were, they have become wives who do nothing but live in the castles of their husbands, raising their broods,” Ally said, shuddering. “Father sometimes speaks of them, the people they were, their aspirations, and now all that is lost. The same will not be true for me. There is freedom in being a man and it will be mine.”

“I can’t say I understand this,” said Cybill.

Ally’s hand left Cybill’s. “It was a stupid idea,” Ally admitted. “One that was ill-thought. At any rate Ethelinda refused. She says that it would breach the neutrality of the Healer’s Guild, especially when I am only a princess.”

“Would the matter change if you were to become queen?”

“I strongly doubt it. The only option is to become king.”

“Then why not marry the Champion?” Cybill said. Ally turned to face her, expression of surprise. “From all that I have heard he enjoys the company of men.”

“Where did you hear such news?” Ally asked.

“The engagement Odysseus held?” Ally nodded. “He invited one of Sir Norbert’s squires into his company. The one with the head of fire?”

“I know of him,” Ally said, tone low.

“Champion though he is, he does not have the knowledge of this place to become king, does not have the relationships that would have him respected to rule over you. The same was true for Champion Zeus. Freda, trying to impress Odysseus, read everything she could of the first Mandon king. Though he was a king in name, it was Queen Cindel who ruled.”

“He has a legacy behind him,” said Ally, nodding. A smile spread, the earlier hardness gone. “It would still be complicated, alliances are needed with the duchy of Harrengrove; but if the Champion were to succeed, it would work to chip away some of their standing. People will see that the next duke of Harrengrove is weak and not a man to be followed.”

“What of their riches?” Cybill asked. “Aren’t those a problem?”

“Riches are nothing compared to honour and glory,” said Ally. “I had thought you would have learnt this.”

Cybill shrugged. “There is much still to be learnt. Though luckily for me, I have an attractive teacher.”

Ally’s smile was bright. They kissed. Cybill felt as her heartbeat rose and the tension of having to suffer through the company of Leonard disappeared. It was all worth it for the time she spent with Ally.

But Cybill knew these moments were often fleeting. As they pulled away from each other, she saw how Ally’s eyes changed, taking in the Champion in a new light. Cybill could see the slight hints of hope in Ally’s eyes and she wanted nothing but to make that come to fruition. Ally’s happiness was hers after all.

“We will have to ensure the Champion’s success, then,” Ally said. “There is only a fortnight before he goes on his hunt with Owain and he is extremely lacking in skill. His lessons with Odysseus will have to stop, and—”

Cybill touched Ally’s arm. “Don’t forget the last time you and your brother approached tutoring the Champion,” said Cybill. “He spent a few days locked in his quarters doing nothing. Can you imagine if the same happened now?”

“What do you expect of me, then?” Ally asked, shortly. “Should I do nothing?”

“I suggest you be less…royal,” said Cybill. Ally frowned and Cybill shrugged. “You have an intensity about you, Ally. One that I greatly enjoy, but it sometimes means that you so easily walk over those you cannot gain advantage from. Something which is true for your brother, and — the few times I have met him — your father.”

“Do not compare me to him.”

“Yet it’s a fair comparison,” Cybill challenged. “I cannot call myself a leader, nor understand the duty that befalls you. But for most of my life I have had to be smarter about how I change people’s minds. It is better to show them where their advantages lie, then have them choose the best path for themselves. When the Champion fought in the cave, it was my words that helped him along. I told him he could run if he wanted, but he would die; that the better path was fighting with us. He must have taken the words to heart.”

“How will that approach work here?” Ally asked, tone still short.

“See what the Champion has planned,” she said, “then build on it, gently.”

Ally sighed but nodded and started forward. Cybill followed, reaching the pair as Odysseus said something that earned a bout of laughter from the Champion. Odysseus, Cybill noted, wore an uncharacteristic expression; not sharp as it usually was, instead he was at ease.

“Sister,” said Odysseus. “You finally join us.”

“I had thought you and the Champion were training,” Ally said, tone biting as it usually was when speaking to Odysseus. Cybill had been the third of seven siblings, she knew their feelings well.

“This is training,” Odysseus returned. “A smarter and more subtle form. It makes sense that you would know nothing about it.”

“You say when unable to do a single push-up,” said Ally.

“As I said, smarter and subtle.”

“Okay,” the Champion said, cutting in. “Odysseus was telling me about these goats and the cool stuff they can do. I noticed while I was riding him that I don’t feel the bumpiness while he runs. Apparently, the big guy has powers like the lizards and those snails we saw in the mines.”

“Like all magic, the beasts have the touch of the different orders. The alabaster lizard is a creature of water, the burrowing lizard a creature of earth. The goats of Susserton are similarly creatures of earth—”

“So I was thinking of training him to have some moves.”

“You have only a fortnight, Champion,” said Ally. “You need to be more reasonable in your expectations. What other forms of training will you be participating in?”

The Champion sobered, his eyes going a little wide and jittery. “I was actually going to talk to you about that,” he said. He cleared his throat and stood straighter, taller. “I’m about to make an ask and it’s big, but I think it might be the best path with the little time that we have.”

“What is it?” Odysseus asked.

“Getting off the island,” said the Champion. “Owain isn’t going to go underground, it’ll be in a forest, an environment that I’m not used to. So…why don’t you guys talk to your father? Get him to give us more room to move, to visit different forests or whatever, so I get as much training as possible.”

“Father will not agree to that,” said Odysseus, and Ally nodded. The prince frowned. “Our grandfather and uncle were killed during a hunt, it is the reason why father is so protective over us.”

“He’s gonna have to let us off at some point, though, isn’t he?” the Champion asked. “I mean…he wants me to be a Champion, so what happens if he steps in and says no to my challenge with Owain? He’s the one who’s going to seem weak, and people might find it easier to jump ship, throwing their lot in with Owain’s family.”

“Your success is not guaranteed in the first place, Champion,” said Ally. “And yet you speak of it so, why?”

“Because…because Owain’s a chump,” he said with a shrug. “Because this is about survival for me, but it isn’t so much for him.”

“Do not underestimate what people would do for their honour,” said Odysseus.

“More than anything, though,” the Champion continued. “He’ll be underestimating me. He thinks he already has me beat, I could see it in his eyes. Honestly, I can see it in all your eyes. But, that’s not going to happen. I’ll need help, though — a lot of help — and that starts with getting as broad an education about the type of threats that exist out there as possible.”

“This will be hard to do,” said Odysseus, mouth pursed. “But if you and I are together, sister, then it might be easier.”

“I do not think father will agree,” said Ally.

“If it works,” the Champion said, shrugging, “you’ll finally be out of this place like you wanted, right? More room to move instead of being holed up in here?”

“Yes,” said Ally, standing with more strength. “Yes. That would be most enjoyable.”

Cybill frowned, because she could see what the Champion had done.

All this time we have all thought you a fool, Champion, she thought, but some part of me thinks you might be smarter than you seem.

“The sooner we speak to father, the sooner we can plan,” said Odysseus. “Sister. If you would accompany me?”

Ally nodded and turned to face Cybill, expression questioning.

“The Champion requires riding lessons,” said Cybill. “We can get started.”

Champion Jordan smiled. Cybill looked into his brown eyes, doing her best to divine if there was something cunning in them, but she saw only fear and the slight hints of relief. She had not been watching him, at least no more than was necessary to keep him from running.

The two parties broke apart. Ally and Odysseus for the castle, while Cybill and the Champion went further away from the island’s centre, to the stables. A silence hung between them, broken by their footfalls and the light clomps from the giant goat that followed them.

“You know,” the Champion started, the words a little unsure. “We haven’t really spoken, you and me.”

“Do we have a lot to speak on?” Cybill asked, the words low and guarded, her mind keenly taking the man in.

The Champion shrugged, the motion languid. “I can’t remember who it was who made the joke,” he said, “but it was something about how a lot of the nobility are cousins. You reacted to that the same way that I felt, you found it odd, and…it hit me that you and I are a lot alike. We’re both still not used to…this. Nobles, castle living, that sort of stuff. I thought we’d have a lot in common.”

“Do we?” Cybill asked. “You’re a Champion from another world. I’m only a commoner.”

“I could still learn a lot from you,” he said, smiling lightly. “It must have taken a special sort of talent to survive in this sort of place.”

Sweet words, Cybill thought, but you have a harsh tongue too. Was that you, or was it Odysseus?

As far as Cybill knew, the Champion had not known either Owain nor Leonard, and yet the words he had spoken to them had been so cutting that both men had not been able to save face after his leaving. Owain and Leonard had stayed for a short while, seeing the looks sometimes directed at them, before deciding it was best if they left.

It would make sense to think that it was Odysseus, especially when he remembered the words the Champion had spoken, “Is it you who speaks, or your master?”

Their walk would be illuminating at the very least.

“I have no such talent,” said Cybill, turning to face the Champion.

The man had turned to face him, giving her his full attention; it was eerie for a reason she could not quite put a finger on. They were nothing alike, and yet Cybill felt much like she did when she was in Ally’s company, as if there was nothing more important in the world.

“I’m nothing,” Cybill continued. “None have any reason to pay attention to me.”

“You’re someone,” he returned. “Everyone’s someone. Hierarchies are shit because they convince even those on the bottom rung that they belong there. People like me, like you, others. I don’t think we should pay them any mind.”

Cybill frowned, ruminating on the words. She remembered how godly the nobility had seemed when she saw them only as figures in the distance, carrying fine swords or wearing large, intricate dresses. Now she knew differently, that they were people just like her. They could be idiots at the best of times, and many of them would be unable to survive without the help of the commoners they looked down upon.

And yet you still see them as godly, do you not? Cybill thought to herself. You still think yourself a lesser warrior than the others even though the only difference is that they have better weapons.

“There is truth to these words,” Cybill said. “Is it why you think you will win against Owain?”

The Champion looked away. He shrugged again but this time it was more tense. “Hopefully,” he said. “Can I be honest with you?”

Cybill shrugged. “If you want to.”

“I was just trying to keep from getting my ass handed to me,” he said. “Owain was going to want a fisticuffs fight and there was no way I would have been able to beat him. So this was the only option I had, you know? I was always going to lose, so…maybe there’s a small chance of winning now.”

“At least you have good eyes,” said Cybill.

As quick as a whip the Champion pulled his pistol free. Cybill reacted, readying herself to move to the side, get close and punch the Champion in his unarmoured face. The man turned away, pointing his gun and shooting in the same motion; the bang reverberated and fire shot out, tearing through branches and then getting bright as it hit something.

A squirrel dropped, hitting the ground, unmoving.

“I’ve got that going for me,” he said. The Champion stowed his pistol. “So how did you and Ally meet, anyway? If that isn’t too personal to ask? And if it is, then feel free brushing me off.”

Cybill smiled. “She and Prince Matthaeus had run away from home,” she said. “In disguise, the both of them. Prince Matthaeus went by Marcus, and Ally was Seb. A scrawny boy with long hair and beautiful features. He and I started a romance. It was a week later, when the king’s men arrived, that I learnt that Seb was Allycea, the princess.”

“Can I ask something real quick?” he asked.

“Ask your questions, Champion, instead of asking for permission.”

He raised both hands and Cybill frowned. “Okay,” he said. “Point taken. Anyway, Ally mentioned the Arena, and there she fights as Eldon. When she first met you she was Seb. Does she do that a lot? Present herself as a different gender while in disguise?”

Cybill shrugged. “She does.”

“Okay,” said the Champion. “Sorry about that. I don’t want you to get the impression that I’m talking to you because you’re Ally’s partner. So…you found out that you were with royalty, what happened then?”

“Ally invited me into her company,” Cybill said, shrugging. “It was too good an opportunity to refuse. The rise in standing was enough for some of my brothers to be invited to squire for my former liege lords, and I became free in a way not many people can, making incomes that soon freed my parents.”

“Freed how?” the Champion asked, his ease gone and a harrowed expression taking its place.

“I can move without needing the approval of my liege lord,” she said. “I can work for whomever I please.”

“Do most people not have that?” he asked, as his voice was so strained it almost broke.

“It’s easy to forget the little you know of this place,” said Cybill. “Though the nobility refers to us collectively as commoners, there are different forms. There are those who can be bought and sold freely—” the Champion paled “—there are those who are bound to lands, meaning whoever owns the land owns them; and finally those who are free, and have chosen to found their own small villages.”

“That last one. Why doesn’t everyone just do that?”

“Because it’s a hard life,” said Cybill. “It’s often better to be under a liege lord. Those who live in villages, they do not truly own the land; they rent it, and a significant portion goes to the true owners, and another percentage goes to the church.”

The Champion’s mouth was a line, his shoulders were drooped and he looked at his feet as he walked.

“Suddenly things are starting to make some sense,” he muttered, so soft that Cybill might not have heard were she not paying attention. “What do you think about the war with Washerton?”

“It is no business of mine,” Cybill said.

“Is that because you don’t care or because you believe it’s not your place to care?” the Champion asked, his tone hard, matching his expression.

Cybill reeled and for a moment her mind was blank. Unlike her fellow ladies-in-waiting, she knew what it was to be of the lower class; when she heard the stories, they painted a different picture to her than they did to her friends. All that she had heard of Washerton painted it as a land where life wasn’t as hard for a commoner; there was strife — after all prominent members of the nobility had died and many counties were without leadership — but it was possible that one might be able to find a patch of land to call their own.

It was a land of opportunity, and many of Althor’s nobles – especially those at the borders – were terrified.

She had not let herself think these thoughts, but at the Champion’s words she started to consider where she stood in the greater picture. For a moment she considered how just it was that people were being kept from opportunity – treasonous thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” the Champion said. “Ignore that. It was unfair.”

“Think nothing of it,” Cybill muttered, doing her best to quiet the thoughts spurred by the Champion.