Road To The Crown 66 Before The Friendly Contes

10th march 1574

After dressing up in my common attire, I left the tent first, leaving Elia to her own morning ritual. Just like women in the future, if given the chance, females of the current age would still do everything to retain their lovely appearance as long and as accented as possible, stretching the time necessary to actually properly wake up for way more than I could afford.

With the military tradition kicking the camp awake like city guard would do to a drunkard after the last daily holy mess, by the time I reached the open field on the side of the entire place, it was already bustling with activities.

Some servants were smas.h.i.+ng their wooden hammers against the poles, forcing them into the ground, some were making sure that all the riding track was even and devoid of any stones that could lead to a horse's injury, while others were busying themselves with preparing light snacks along with enough wine to turn maybe not entire Tarnow, but half of it dead drunk.

While I got the preview of the scale of this camp during the feast, with over one hundred n.o.bles alone gathered in one place, only now I managed to get a clear look at how vast this gathering was. If not for the direct proximity of not only two major cities in the area but the most important river in the entire country, sustaining such a huge ma.s.s of people would be absolutely impossible!

"Good morning, sir brother! How was your night?"

Hitting me up as soon as I approached the simple fence, serving more as information where the small tournament would take place rather than stopping anyone from entering, a familiar voice greeted me from the side. Turning my head to look at the owner of those words, I saw the same n.o.ble that was the first to welcome me to the camp yesterday.

"Greetings, brother. As per G.o.d's will, I had a great night of sleep. If only his grace could warm this land of his a bit more…"

Laughing out, I looked around once again, this time focusing on this small detail. While other people might be more used to this fact compared to someone who lived in way warmer period of the earth cycle, with the temperature slowly reaching the point when you could leave the water in the cup and don't worry about it turning into ice, it was manageable at best.

No matter where I cast my eyes, servants were s.h.i.+vering slightly despite wearing rather well-made costumes of the Bone house origin, proving that at least, the governor took care of his own people. While this small detail could escape the attention of anyone else, with how I was about to bind my nearest future to this political figure, it served as silent rea.s.surance for my plans.

"I really understand where are you coming from. Speaking of which, looking at your dress, do you intend to take part in the contest?"

After the first greetings of the day were exchanged, it would be insanely bothersome to keep calling each other brother or sir, allowing everyone in casual talk to just refer to each other directly. Obviously, if some prince or even the Governor himself appeared beside us, no one in their right mind would dare to drop the formalities without a clear request from the socially higher side!

"Yeah, it was a while since I did it and I'm rather a sabre man but… yeah, I will join."

My words weren't just an empty statement this time. Not only did my statistic reflected it, with proficiency in sabre marked at twenty-four points with only eighteen in the lance, but most importantly, I already tested the feeling of having the additional weight of the short, white arm, and have yet to play around with the longer, cavalry lance.

In fact, if someone was to be overly excited about this small and friendly tournament, I was worried that instead of lances, we would be using proper, Polish Copy!

While in itself, it was a genius craft, made by the wood drilled inside, allowing it to not only be about twice as long as your usual, western lance but also to break easily during a proper charge, swiftly freeing the horseman hand, keeping the battlefield clear of the obstacles that could endanger the next lines of the charging formation and most importantly, preventing the enemy from removing the blade part in an attempt to save the wounded!

But looking at it from my current point of view, I couldn't help but feel a bit scared. While Polish Copy had its advantages, handling it, especially in a tournament aimed at precision, could only make me look even worse than I was expecting!

"Excuses! I hear excuses!"

Instead of trying to make fun off my clearly sour face when I spoke about the different weapons, Jan only laughed openly and unveiled one part of his robe only to bring out a small bottle with its cork still on.

"Here, have a drink. Nothing beats a good mead for an encouragement! After all, we don't want you to embarra.s.s yourself in front of the governor!"

While I was coming from the age where most of the people were ready to do almost anything after words "hold my beer" but as unsocial as I was, I never understood the underlying reason for this phenomena. Only when I happened to be in the exact spot where I was actually worried about the outcome of my physical exercise, did I understood the allure of taking a sip.

"Thank you, but no. I prefer to retain a clear mind. I will drink when I will come out on top!"