A World Without Heroes - Brandon Mull [147]
“I think we need to declare our intent to leave,” Jason said. “We should do it publicly, so there will be pressure from the other guests to let us go.”
“Might be worth a try,” Tark said, fidgeting with his napkin.
Jason ate more meat. He took a sip of fruit juice. Then he stood up.
“I have an announcement to make,” Jason declared.
Everybody froze, including a servant in the middle of handing a plate to a plump woman. Only Duke Conrad made announcements at dinner.
“I want to publicly thank Duke Conrad for his hospitality,” Jason continued. The other diners visibly relaxed. Several tapped their stemware with their forks in approval.
“I have thoroughly enjoyed my stay here,” Jason said, nodding graciously at Conrad, “but the time has come for me to depart.”
Silence.
Drake covered his mouth with a napkin, stifling a laugh.
Conrad’s features hardened. Muscles pulsed in his lean jaw. Count Dershan forced a laugh. “A fine jest, Lord Jason,” Dershan approved hopefully.
“No. I am leaving this evening. I don’t mean to offend anyone.”
Duke Conrad arose, tossing his napkin aside, and walked down the table to Jason. The two stood facing each other. “No man has ever refused my hospitality,” Conrad said softly, his tone lethal, his eyes demanding submission.
“Neither have I,” Jason replied. “I accepted it. I thank you for it. And now I’m leaving.”
Duke Conrad frowned. “My invitation offered indefinite participation in the Eternal Feast,” Conrad said. “All who come here recognize this. To accept less insults my honor.”
“I mean no insult,” Jason said. “I was under the impression I was welcome to stay but free to leave when I wanted.”
“All men are free to do as they will,” Conrad said, his voice dangerously reasonable. “But you have not even remained here a week. Such an affront is insupportable. Are you resolved to pursue this course of action?”
“I am.”
“Then you force my hand. I, Duke Conrad, challenge you, Lord Jason of Caberton, to a duel!”
“No, milord,” exclaimed Kimp, rising from his chair. “Let me handle this miscreant.”
Duke Conrad motioned for Kimp to be seated. “Lord Jason is a member of the aristocracy. Disputes among nobles are best settled by nobles.” Some of the guests nodded sagely at this statement. “I repeat myself—I challenge you to a duel, tomorrow at dawn.”
“I refuse,” Jason said. “Can I go now?”
Several of the stunned guests stifled laughs. Drake tried to pretend he was coughing. “I am your superior in rank,” Duke Conrad insisted, voice quavering with indignation. “You have no right to refuse.”
“I do anyway.”
“Let me rephrase. I will not allow you to refuse, no matter how great your cowardice.”
“In that case I accept.”
“Rapiers at dawn,” Conrad declared.
Jason thought about movies he had seen where people challenged each other to duels. “Wait. You made the challenge. Don’t I get to choose the weapons?”
“Perhaps, if we were of comparable rank, but it is unthinkable that I should condescend to permit an upstart lordling the selection of arms. Consider yourself fortunate I do not simply let Kimp dispose of you.”
The injustice of the situation made Jason’s ears burn. He had an audience. He needed to state his case convincingly.
“I am not only Lord Jason of Caberton,” Jason explained, partially restraining his anger. “I am the chancellor of Trensicourt, second in command after the regent.”
The guests murmured. For an instant Conrad’s rigid expression faltered. “Untrue. You abandoned your office, and Copernum was reinstated.”
“I abandoned nothing!” Jason reached into his pocket and pulled out the chancellor’s signet ring. “I left secretly on a private errand. Anyone who claimed my title in my absence will answer to me when I return. Should I go get my mantle?”
Duke Conrad was clearly taken aback by Jason’s vehemence.
“Furthermore,” Jason pressed, taking advantage of the shifting momentum, “I am a guest in your house. You invited me, which implies some equality between us, even if I had no title. Or do you consider your guests inferiors?”
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