The men seated themselves in the three high-backed chairs. Rezkin examined his goblet. Under the circumstances and having seen the general pour the wine, he decided the threat of poison was minimal. Besides, he was aware of only two poisons in existence that could dissolve that quickly, and neither were fast acting. He had antidotes for both in the pouch at his waist, along with several others.

A few moments of uncomfortable silence ensued before anyone spoke. The young warrior’s Certificate of Authority was more than just a parchment bestowing the Sheyalins upon him. It was an authority that should have been outlined clearly. The general found himself in a quandary. The failure to define that authority meant the young man had both a complete lack of authority and an authority to rival the king—literally.

“I take it you are the reason I did not receive the lieutenant’s message on the day of his arrival in Kaibain?” the general directed at Rezkin.

“Yes, I requested that he not deliver the message immediately. The lieutenant felt beholden to oblige.” The general eyed the lieutenant attempting to discern the man’s motives. Lieutenant Jimson held his head proudly and met the general’s eye.

General Marcum nodded and said, “Yes, I can see that he did. I understand your difficulty, Lieutenant. We are all in a grey area, here. This young man,”—he indicated Rezkin—“has been given the right to enforce his authority within this kingdom, and yet, it seems, that he is the only one who can determine what that authority is. I cannot imagine what Bordran was thinking.” But that was not exactly true. He had an idea. Actually, he had two, and he was not sure which was worse.

Rezkin said nothing. He had no idea what the old king had been thinking either. He was not even sure the king had meant for the swords to belong to him in the first place. His name had been written in a different hand, and it had not been that long ago, since the description of him was a recent one. Two years ago when the old king died, Rezkin had been several inches shorter.

Breaking the silence, General Marcum continued, “Bordran died a little over two years ago. You claim to be nineteen, so you would have been sixteen, maybe seventeen, when these were bestowed? There was no celebration. There were no announcements. Even I, the general of the army of Ashai, was not told. Whatever it is you did to earn the honor of carrying not one but two Sheyalins was kept in complete secrecy. Does King Caydean even know?”

Rezkin cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. “I am uncertain. Events have transpired for which I have no explanation. It is for this reason I am going to the tournament. I have no desire to prove myself before the masses, but I do need answers.”