Chapter 121 - 120: Confidence.

Chapter 121: Chapter 120: Confidence.

There’s something different about today. Khobi’s not sure quite what it is, but the growing crowd below them seems bigger than the day before, and more restless.

​"Wow, big crowd today," Montrel remarks conversationally from the seat next to him. Loac’s seat, Bongo had reminded him with a pained, defeated expression when he’d hooked a leg up over the arm of the chair in an exact mirror of how Khobi was currently lounging. "Should be interesting."

​"Montrel, back to your post," Bongo orders dryly, gesturing for his soldier to return to his designated spot before people started talking.

​"It’s fine, isn’t it?" Khobi snorts, "It’s not like he’s coming anyways, right?"

​He sounds almost envious.

​" Both of you ," Bongo huffs long-sufferingly, and both Khobi and Montrel obligingly seat themselves a little more proper.

And then, after a long moment of meaningful silence, Montrel groans and rolls his eyes, but eventually does as he’s bid, grudgingly taking up his post behind Khobi’s seat.

Khobi smirks at him as he swings by, and makes himself a little comfier just to rub it in Montrel’s face.

Bongo runs a hand down his face as his soldier jostles Khobi for his cheek, but makes no further comment.

He’s just grateful that they tone down the horseplay when the king and the princess arrive.

​Well, for the most part. They quit the worst of it, but that doesn’t stop them from elbowing each other when they think no one’s watching.

Unfortunately for them, both the king and his daughter actually do have functioning eyes, and not only seem fully aware of what’s going on, but appear content to allow it to continue.

The Princess, for one, thinks she’s being very subtle, but Bongo can tell she’s trying very hard not to laugh.

​It’s a sight that warms him. As a princess, it’s rare that she gets to spend time around people her own age --much less ones that can make her smile as openly as she has been in days of late.

​"Lots of soldiers down there," Montrel comments, and doesn’t even have the audacity to look guilty when Bongo sends him a severe look to remind him that he’s meant to be on his best behaviour. "Should be a good day."

​"And they’re all competing?" Khobi asks quizzically, and, for the first time, actually sounds a little interested in the proceedings.

And in all honesty, Bongo can’t blame him. There’s something about seeing armed men in armour that piques a soldier’s interest, whether he likes it or not.

​"Everyone in armour, pretty much," Montrel replies with a small shrug. There are a lot of men in armour down there; all painted different colours, and crafted into different shapes.

Some of them even have extravagantly embellished shields --a glaring reminder that there are lords out there who will miss no opportunity to display their wealth. "...Hey, is that Rogard down there?"

​Khobi cranes his neck in the direction Montrel’s conspicuously pointing, and nods when he catches sight of a familiar blonde head, chatting amicably with the Second Captain.

Who Khobi notes with some surprise is not wearing armour.

​"He must be nervous," Montrel comments, and adds, when he gets a couple of strange looks, "See how twitchy his horse is? She’s a good girl; wouldn’t get all agitated like that unless he was."

Montrel’s got a point. Rogard’s horse is definitely jittery --she’s dancing in place behind her master, and Rogard has to keep rubbing her nose to get her to settle.

And it’s not just his horse that can’t seem to stay still; Rogard’s fidgeting, and keeps running his hand back through his hair, like he is nervous.

Which Khobi doesn’t get at all , since Rogard’s been confident to the point of annoying about today.

​"Weird," he remarks dryly, mildly skeptical, "He reckoned he’s a favourite to win."

​"Oh, he is," Montrel grimaces, and sounds annoyed about it, "Kid always was pretty good. And I hear he’s been training with Drogger."

​"So?" that really means nothing to Khobi, though Bongo nods sagely like it does it him.

​"Second’s pretty good," Montrel explains, "One of the best, probably."

​"...And he’s not competing?" Khobi frowns, confused, and leans over to get a better look at the man Rogard’s chatting with.

The Captain is in full uniform, and heavily armed, but clearly not about to compete.

​"Nah, got himself injured and it hasn’t quite healed," Montrel replies, disappointed on his superior’s behalf, "Captain’s a real stickler for things like that.

We do somethin’ stupid, get ourselves hurt, we gotta do the time; wait for it to get better. And then when we get back, he runs our asses into the ground --uh, sorry for saying ass, Your Highness."

​Bongo wonders why he bothers. And why his soldiers’ inadvertent use of vulgar language seems to make the princess laugh.

She doesn’t, this time, even though it’s obvious she’s heard. In fact, as aloof as she’s trying to appear; gazing down at all the soldiers as they ride past, and smiling at them as they dip their heads out of respect, she’s listening quite intently.

She always does, when the men around her talk of swords, and war. Rarely speaks though, unless spoken to, and never is.

​" --So Rogard has a chance of actually winning?" Khobi inquires, raising an eyebrow.

​"Yeah. Kid’s no joke with a lance," Montrel hums, "But Ynoro’s just as good as the Captain, and there are soldiers here from all over, so who knows.

Maybe they’re better."

​"Cabaga," Bongo chimes in, surprising himself a little by injecting himself back into the conversation.

Both men turn to look at him; almost equally surprised, and feeling like he owes them an explanation, continues, "His Majesty favours the sport, and is widely considered to be one of the strongest competitors here."

​"Bongo, I am shocked to hear that you think so little of your own men," Gurdet remarks playfully, and Bongo has known his king for long enough to know that he’s just trying to get a rise out of him.

​"My men are very capable," Bongo assures him stoically, "As are the men of other kingdoms, I’m sure.

They did not come all this way intending to make fools of themselves."

​Gurdet looks impressed with his answer.

​"What do you think, Princess Xena?" Montrel asks suddenly, and the princess, who has sat politely silent throughout the conversation thus far, starts a little at being addressed so directly.

Bongo doesn’t blame her --as much as she seems to long to join such discussions, it’s exceedingly rare that she’s given the opportunity.

Men tend to assume that ladies have no interest in, or knowledge of, such things, and few seem to realise that Princess Xena is not just any lady.

​"Excuse me?" she queries, though it’s clear she’s understood the question.

​"Who do you think will win?" Montrel elaborates casually, and then tips his chin in the direction of one of the soldiers riding past, "What about that one there? He looks like he could be strong."

A flash of what Bongo could only call delight crosses the princess’ expression, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared; hidden from her father, and when she identifies the man he’s indicated, she immediately shakes her head.

​"Not him," she says with a small frown, "Look at the way he’s sitting on his horse. A light breeze would knock him off."

​Montrel and Khobi gawk at her. Rudely. Bongo hides a smile, and is pleased to note that for a moment her father --before he manages to hide it away --looks almost proud.

​"Um, yeah," Montrel says, looking mildly bewildered by her answer. Impressed, because he would have said much the same thing, but definitely bewildered, and the princess just blinks her pretty pink eyes at him and smiles, like that was exactly the reaction she’d been hoping for.

"You’re right. Good...uh, good call. Guy’s gonna fall off his horse before a lance gets anywhere near him."

​As if on cue, a horse rears near the soldier they’re talking about and spooks his mount. His horse shies spectacularly, jostling him in the saddle, and he has to make a mad grab for the reins as he careens precariously.

It’s only thanks to a couple of quick-handed grooms that he manages to stay seated at all.

The princess, shocked by the timing of such a thing, presses a hand to her mouth to hide a gasp, and turns to Montrel with wide eyes, like she’s been the cause of the man’s misfortune.

Montrel just grins lopsidedly at her, and snickers as Khobi gawks in disbelief at the soldier’s idiocy.

​"Told you."