The Parade, and news from allies

As a former commoner, you have found it not in your nature to seek out the pomp and pageantry which more established Kings might revel in, but although this is the first time such a great festival has marked the anniversary of Elyssia, there has been a parade every year - and every year, you are compelled to dress in full royal regalia, with your crown upon your head and the sceptre of your office in hand, and ride Steelheart through the streets so that the people may shout themselves hoarse for you. It is the size of the crowd and the size of the parade behind you which makes this year different from all others... that, and the matter of Lord Velimir on your mind.

Behind you rides the Kingsguard, Captain Navarre at the head with his squire at one side and his beloved wife, Lady Michelle, at the other. You cannot help but think of the fact that for ten years now, you have been riding alone; and in spite of all that has happened over the past two days, you cannot afford to lose sight of the fact that you must, at some point, find a Queen for Elyssia.

Just behind Captain Navarre ride Magnus and Benedicht. Sir Benedicht carries the flag of Elyssia, a silver crown atop a mounain peak with a sheathed blade standing point-downward. Magnus towers over him by a good two feet, one of the reasons why Benedicht carries the flag, as he would barely be seen otherwise!

At the far left is Mshindi, the most recent addition to the Kingsguard. A man from M'Kubwa's tribe, he was one of the men you freed from bondage at the hands of Lord Velimir when he first came to Elyssia showing off Mshindi and his kin as spoils from his campaigns. On that day, you made an enemy of Velimir, but a far greater friend of Bwana M'Kubwa and all of his people, some of whom - including Mshindi - chose to stay in Elyssia rather than return home. It would no doubt be wise to speak with Mshindi about Velimir, but there has not yet been time.

Lady Trina rides at the far right, and between her and Mshindi are the other squires and knights-in-training of the Kingsguard... and one Lady Sylvia of Corinthia. In spite of her insistence that this is the best way for her to both hide and be protected, it seems ill-advised in the light of day... you do have to admit, though, that the sheer audacity of it might be the most effective camouflage, for who on Earth would expect that the most secretive thief in Elyssia would be riding at the front of the anniversary parade? Even if she were somehow recognized by someone, he would no doubt think that he must be mistaken.

The parade lasts a long three hours, from the town square down the Innkeeper's road, past the Smithyard where you spent your youth, then up past the homes of the nobles and wealthy merchants and down again over the stonemason's bridge, through the farmer's market, and on to the River Road where you ride past the encampments of visitors from distant lands. This is where you might expect to see Velimir's men, if they were here, but though you look through the crowd carefully even as you wave to them, you see no sign of anyone who might be one of his mercenaries - of course, if they are there, they would not be so obvious about it. The parade then cuts through a meadow to the area set aside for visiting lords.

The first tents you pass are those of Subhi El-Zamani, the Sultan of Al-Mansoura, perhaps Elyssia's closest ally. The Sultan sits not upon the throne which he brought with him all the way from his palace, but instead upon a magnificent white stallion who could be Steelheart's twin. With barely a second thought, you motion for the Sultan to join you at the head of the parade, which he does with a great bellowing laugh, and his people cheer for him as he brings his horse up to your side.

"A magnificent spectacle, friend Xavier!" he says as he draws near. "Much improved on what passed for your parade five years ago, which I mistook for the carts bringing in the fodder from the fields before I recognized your horse at the front!"

"The years have been good to Elyssia since then, Subhi," you tell him. "I am glad you were able to join me, not just at the festival, but at this moment. I fear I've been a poor host; we've barely had the chance to speak, my good friend."

"This may be a good chance for us to do so," he says, uncharacteristically quietly - his tone does not match the smile he shows to the crowd as he waves to them along with you. "It is a strange thing, but true, that here with every eye upon us, we may speak without being overheard by anyone. Has word reached you that Velimir Reznik may be among your visitors?"

"It has," you reply, likewise continuing to smile and wave. "Can you confirm the truth of it?"

"He would be a fool not to have a few spies here," the Sultan says, "but whether he is here himself, I cannot say for certain. My information does not come from my own people, however. Look up to the left, and try your best not to laugh - I'm afraid I could not help myself!"

You look where the Sultan indicates, and there is Bwana M'Kubwa, sitting astride a horse and looking as though he would rather be anywhere else in the world. The tall, thin, black-skinned man has never been on a horse before, to your knowledge, and it is obvious that he has not the slightest idea of what to do now that he is on one. You wave at him to join you, as you did with the Sultan, and although the horse steps forward calmly and gently, M'Kubwa nearly loses his balance at the first step. His people cheer him on as wildly as if he sat upon a dragon.

"I gave him my gentlest mount," Subhi says, "a mare who mostly trains with the children when they first learn to ride. Fortunately, Bwana need only stay upon her back, she will follow my own horse."

"Xavier," M'Kubwa says when he reaches you, and you get the idea that his face would be utterly pale if that were possible. "My apologies, I am having... some difficulty."

"Not at all, Bwana," you reply. You cannot help but glance back at Mshindi, whose face bears a look of open astonishment at seeing his chief riding a horse. "Subhi has told me of his suspicions... I take it they are your suspicions as well?"

"My people who live here in Elyssia have come to me with word," he says in his deep, rich baritone. "Forgive them please for not reporting to you, but they knew that you and your advisors were busy with the festival, and they thought information could reach you faster through me. Men have been seen among the camps who could only be Velimir's; my people have cause to remember them well, as you know. Of course, he would have spies here, but there is more to it than that. Xavier, have you ever heard of one named Katyana?"

"Lord Velimir's daughter?" you ask, surprised. "She is here?"

"One of your subjects from my tribe, one named Amani, was hunting farther out than usual yesterday morning, as the nearby game is gone. He stumbled across a camp with no flags, but one of the tents was made of bearskins. He hid out of sight, and -" M'Kubwa utters a curse in his own language as his mount makes a gentle turn to the right along the parade route, nearly unseating him from the saddle. "Forgive me, please... Amani hid out of sight, and observed for as long as he dared. He gave me much information which I will provide to you in full when there is time, but the most important thing he spoke of was a young woman, who emerged from the tent of bearskins and issued orders to one of the men. This confused him, as he was certain that they were Velimir's people; and yet it seemed strange that there would be a woman among them in a position to command, especially one who could not be much more than two counts of ten years. But I have made it my business to learn all that I can of Velimir during my journey to your kingdom, and I know that he now counts his daughter among his captains. If she is here, then no doubt Velimir intends more than spying."

"If he means to attack," Subhi says, "my people stand ready to fight as your own!"

"As do mine," M'Kubwa says.

"I knew that to be true long before each of you said it," you say in appreciation, "but Velimir knows it as well. If he means to attack, he will do so after you both leave - and you cannot stay here for ever. The best thing to do may be to draw him out, so that we may deal with him in words rather than blades. But there is another matter to consider, one which I cannot speak of here and now. My friends, at the conclusion of the parade, I will announce the start the tournaments. The first contest is the blacksmithing competition, which is held specifically in my honor so it would not do for me to miss it. Following that, however, there will be many competitions happening simultaneously, and I could be absent for a time. We could meet in Bwana's tent; surely, my friend, Velimir has no spies who look like your people, so they could not get close without being seen."

"That is good," Bwana says with a nod. "I will be there after the blacksmithing contest... assuming I survive dismounting from this beast."

"I will be there as well," the Sultan says with a nod. "Ah, look, there is Sir Reginald, the pompous old gazma. Should we invite him to join us?"

"Mmm, probably not," you reply.

"My thoughts exactly," M'Kubwa concurs.

As you round the last corner and face the entrance to the tournament grounds, Steelheart shakes his head gently, and you can tell he is tired of this slow pace - normally he would be more disciplined, but you recall that in each of the previous parades, you broke into a gallop at this point and entered the tournament grounds at full speed.

"Bwana," you say to the tall man at your side, "you might want to take a really, really good grip on those reins."

The expression on his face goes from confusion, to surprise, to outright terror, and the Sultan laughs loudly as he realizes what you intend.

You lean forward in the saddle and tap the spurs against Steelheart's flanks, and he is off like a hurled javelin. The people cheer as you take the last stretch of road at full speed, holding the royal sceptre up high in one hand. Steelheart flies through the archway which flutters with all the banners of those who have come to Elyssia, and you swing him into a wide circle around the tournament grounds. The trumpets blast out as you whip past the grandstands and back around to the main entrance, where you turn more sharply so as to finish in the center of the arena. Poor M'Kubwa holds on for dear life as his horse trots around the circle, too disciplined to go at full gallop, but the Sultan pulls up behind you in a few seconds, laughing mightily with joy.

"I'm going to have to be very nice to him for the rest of the festival," you say, motioning to M'Kubwa.

"Ach, so long as he makes it through with his neck intact, he'll thank us for it someday," Subhi says. "Besides, in his youth, he could probably run twice as fast as that horse! I've never seen better runners than his people, they are like the great cats of the plains."

"We still have a running contest as part of the tournament, but it's a foregone conclusion that the first three to cross the finish line will be of Bwana's tribe," you say with a nod. "This year, with so many of them visiting, it will probably be the first twelve."

After a moment, the rest of the parade begins to pour into the arena, and M'Kubwa finall pulls up next to you. Without waiting for his horse to stop, he jumps off and drops to all fours on the ground, bowing his head for a moment in prayer before coming up to his feet.

"It is my turn to beg your forgiveness, friend," you say to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I ought to have warned you that I have traditionally entered the tournament grounds in this way."

"Babu!" shouts Mshindi as he runs up next to you, having dismounted from his own horse in order to trust to his feet. "Babu, are you all right?"

"I am fine, my son," Bwana says, addressing Mshindi in his traditional way. "It was... a good ride."

"It was indeed!" Subhi shouts, turning his horse in a circle.

Mshindi seems to suddenly notice where he is, with you and the Sultan. "Forgive me, Sire," he says, bowing his head. "My first duty is to my King now, not to my Kiongozi. I should have kept to my place in the parade."

"You are always forgiven for showing devotion to Bwana M'Kubwa," you assure him. "Since you are here, Mshindi, please escort our honored guests to the main grandstand. My friends, I'm afraid I must remain here while the remainder of the parade makes its way in, but my discomfort need not be shared. I will see you at the podium when the tournament commences."