The Robber Knight's Secret

Prologue

Anno Domini 1234

"This is outrageous!"

Sir Gregor sighed. "I'm sure it is."

"To be summoned like this, like a couple of lazy servants, as if we had nothing better to do with our time than dance attendance on him—who does Falkenstein think he is? Our lord and master?"

"Well, he is our liege lord," Sir Gregor pointed out. "Which means that, technically, he is our lord and master."

Sir Blasius waved that fact away as if it were an annoying fly he could just swat beneath his armored fist. "Yes, technically. But still, we are knights of the Empire and he should treat us with the respect due our station. He can't just expect that we come running every time he says so."

"Actually, he can. We swore that oath of fealty, remember?"

"Bah!" Sir Blasius spat onto the forest path. "That only says we have to come for a few months. Whatever he says, I'm not going to stay longer than I have to."

Sir Gregor sighed again. Blasius had been at it the entire road up from the village of Mosgrund to Falkenstein Castle: It was intolerable that the Margrave would call on them like this, they were important men with important tasks to accomplish, they had many calls upon their times, and so on, and so on.

He had been so busy complaining that he hadn't even noticed what a beautiful day it was, how the late autumn sunlight filtered through the fiery-colored forest roof, and how the last of the birds that hadn't left for the south yet fluttered high up between the branches.

Sir Gregor for one couldn't see what more important tasks Blasius could be accomplishing right now, apart from maybe working to empty his wine-cellar and thinking up new taxes for the poor peasants who had the misfortune to be his vassals. Other than Blasius, Sir Gregor didn't mind at all being called to the Margrave's castle this late in the year, and so suddenly to boot. He rather enjoyed the rare opportunity to get out of his own castle and onto the road.

No, Sir Gregor didn't mind the journey. What bothered him far more were the two lances of soldiers marching behind him, his own and those of Sir Blasius. It wasn't unusual for them to bring an escort when they visited the Margrave's court. But this time, their overlord had demanded that they bring their entire force of men at arms.

Blasius hadn't paid much attention to that particular fact. He didn't care how much marching other people would have to do, as long as he could comfortably ride on a horse. Sir Gregor, however, had noticed and thought about the reasons ever since. He hadn't found an answer yet.

Taking a flask of water from where it was fastened to his saddle, Sir Gregor took a deep gulp of honey-wine. Next, he reached into his pack to withdraw a piece of bread. He bit off a piece and started to chew, but then noticed a few birds beside the forest path, picking between the tree roots, on the lookout for something to fill their stomachs before winter.

So, somebody else was hungry? Smiling to himself, Sir Gregor picked a few sunflower seeds from the crust of his bread and threw them to the birds. The little flutter fellows hopped closer and eyed him for a few moments, turning their heads from left to right as if to say "Really? For us?" Then they began pecking hectically at the seeds.

"You're welcome," Sir Gregor told them.

"What?" Blasius, interrupted in his incessant flow of complaints, turned his head to stare at him. "What did you say?"

"I wasn't talking to you."

"But there's nobody else around." When Sir Gregor didn't answer, Blasius shrugged. "Well, I can't blame you if you start to talk with yourself. This damnable forest is so deathly dull I think I might lose my mind any minute."