Markos shifted uneasily under the weight of Caelan's gaze. "What brings you to our table, Caelan?"
Caelan's gentile tone didn't reach his eyes. "I was following a feeling. You mean to prove yourself this spring, Markos?"
"He is! And so am I!" Emilio beamed proudly up at the templar who merely smiled. Caelan returned his attention to Markos.
"We are, yes. It'd be a great honor for us and House Arand to provide two new templars to the Order." The arrowhead beneath Markos's shirt felt hot against his chest. He nodded politely, uncertain if he was imagining the heat or if he was just embarrassed by the templar's attention.
"I challenge you to a friendly duel." Caelan waited a moment for his words to sink in before he continued. Emilio's eyes widened. Markos paled and swallowed hard as his body tensed. "After the feast, of course. What do you say?"
"It'd be a pleasure, Sir Caelan." Markos bowed his head. The templar met his gaze before jovially laughing, his eyes lighting up as the tension left. Markos's hands relaxed at his sides. He ran his hand through his hair. The heat against his chest was gone like it never happened.
Knight General Arand rose to his feet and the room fell quiet. "Tonight, we honor our esteemed guests- his Majesty, his children, Prince Mateo and Princess Francesca, Sir Caelan Talan and Helka Iliana." He gestured to the king and the little ones beside him before raising his goblet to the hunters' table. "And we honor our accomplished huntsmen."
Markos bowed his head in recognition to the toast. He raised his drink in response. His gaze drifted from the dark colors to the brilliant fire that was Iliana. The Ember looked petite and vibrant next to the Lord. Imelda peered at the Ember in short intervals, looking away when the woman looked towards her. Iliana had a peaceful expression as she observed the hall.
"It is my pleasure to announce Prince Mateo's betrothal to our own Imelda." Marcius beamed despite the way Imelda's nose crinkled in protest. The little girl peered around her father to the king and then prince before blushing and looking down at the table.
Emilio bristled, sitting straighter on the bench. "He's the one for Mel?"
"They're still young, things might change," Markos softly offered, gently patting Emilio on the shoulder. "Would you rather be the one betrothed?"
Emilio's gaze shifted to the Princess Francesca. He shook his head and glanced toward Iliana. "No."
Caelan watched them with a thoughtful expression. The servants brought out trays of food and the chatter resumed. Emilio started chattering with Caelan. Markos found his thoughts distracted from the feast and the conversations around him.
'Why does a templar want to duel me? Why did the arrowhead get warm again?' He ate in silence until he was no longer hungry and excused himself. 'I have a duel to prepare for, better to not eat to bursting.'
Markos wasn't sure how serious of a duel this was. He doubted it was to the death. He changed from his fancy doublet to a comfortable black wool gambeson and trousers before strapping on his sword belt. 'He didn't say where he wanted to fight me. He'll find me when he's ready. Better to just got to the training hall since it's still snowing.'
Markos's bootfalls echoed as he made his way from his chambers to the training hall. The insulated walls kept out the chill, but it was still cool inside the large chamber. Training swords sat at the furthest end from the door but allowed for multiple people to train.
He drew his sword and lifted it up to the light to check its edge. He remembered the way it glittered covered in the bear's blood and shook his head. The thought left him cold and confused. 'Why did I think of that?' He knelt and placed the sword tip against the ground. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. "Teiwaz grant me clarity to understand the signs."
"I find that answers come more readily in action than in stillness." Caelan stepped past him and waited.
Markos looked at the templar in his dark blue gambeson. Rising, he shrugged. "I'm honored to spar with you."
"Honor is shared by both participants. Ready?" Caelan appraised him, his hand rested on the pummel of his sword.
Markos held his sword, point down at his side. "First blood? Or did you have something else in mind?"
Caelan grinned as he tilted his head to one side. "Wouldn't be ideal if we slew the other. Serious wounding is also not ideal. First blood is fair. The goal is to not kill or maim."
"All right then." Markos offered Caelan his hand. The templar considered him for a moment and shook it firmly. Caelan pulled back.
"Begin on my mark." A feminine voice interjected. Markos glanced over his shoulder and met the glowing blue of Iliana's eyes. "I can restore minor scrapes, be kind to each other." She smiled and Markos returned his attention to Caelan.
Markos idly spun the hilt in his hand and adjusted his grip.
"3, 2, 1, go!"
Steel sang as the swords crashed together. Markos grit his teeth as he shoved Caelan back. It was a complex dance of parrying, evading, and striking. He wasn't surprised by the templar's skill as much as his ability to keep the man's sword from his throat. When he thought he saw an opening, Caelan was there to block him. The man's expression was calm despite the intensity of his focus.
Caelan's blade was near black and glinted an almost purplish sheen in the light of the heartstone lamps. 'It's not steel. That's Mariaum.' He pressed his attack forward, regaining his focus. He saw a pattern to the way the templar moved and feigned. He got swung his blade down into the opening and Maraium met steel.
Their eyes met for a moment across locked swords. Blue embers burned in the templar's eyes and he felt a heat against his chest.
"What are you…?"
"Caelan, don't!"