Forest Kingdom Trilogy 2 - Blood and Honor

plate armour and a blocky steel helm with the visor lowered. There was no insignia or device on his armour to give a clue as to his identity. It was a knight's armour, but that didn't prove anything. In fact, if he was really a knight of the Realm, why wasn't he called Sir Ironheart? In his own way, the armoured knight was as mysterious and anonymous as the Monk. And like the Monk, no one at
    Castle Midnight seemed too sure of where he'd come from originally. The two of them had simply appeared at Lewis's side one day, and they'd been there ever since.
    It was hard to tell which of the two was feared most. Ironheart was Lewis's pet murderer. Under Lewis's direction, he'd challenged seventeen men to duels and killed them all with the great double-edged broadsword he carried slung on his back. Before Ironheart came along, Lewis had been content to do his own killing, but with the crown so nearly in his grasp of late, Lewis had grown cautious.
    Jordan studied Ironheart carefully. The armour was old and battered, and looked like it hadn't been polished in years, but it was still clearly in good working order. The bone hilt of the broadsword peered over his left shoulder like a watchful eye. Jordan stared at the helm's closed visor, and frowned thoughtfully. The man must be boiling hot inside all that armour, but still had made no move to take off his helm, or even to raise the visor. In fact, he seemed perfectly at ease.
    'I'm starting to get the feeling I may have joined the wrong side,' said Jordan quietly to Gawaine. 'We're supposed to take on those two? A monk who isn't there and an armoured killing machine? I think we're seriously outclassed here, Gawaine. All right, we beat Bloody Bones, but you know and I know that was only because we got lucky. A few conjuring tricks and a magic axe aren't going to be enough this time. I mean, we don't even have a real sorcerer on our side! I wish I was drunk. I wish I was very drunk.
    Maybe then my knees would stop shaking.'
    'Will you get a hold of yourself!' Gawaine's voice was no less sharp for being quiet. 'We knew about Ironheart and the Monk when we started this. They're impressive, but not unbeatable. No one's unbeatable. Now brace yourself, Lewis is coming over.'
    Jordan quickly adopted his bland, untroubled face, the one he used when dealing with angry creditors. It was a very calm and relaxed face, with more than a little I know something you don't about it. It worked very well, as often as not. Jordan breathed deeply and carefully, bringing himself under control.
    Showtime. Nothing to worry about. Viktor was just another character. He ran quickly through what he'd been told about Viktor and Lewis. They disliked each other, but they both hated Dominic. Dominic is insane, and Lewis is vile . . . Jordan smiled easily as Lewis came to a halt before him. Lewis bowed formally. Ironheart and the Monk stayed back a way, politely out of earshot but within easy call. They didn't bow to Jordan, so he ostentatiously ignored them. He nodded briefly to Lewis.
    'Well, Viktor, it's good to see you up and about again,' said Lewis. His voice was warm and hearty. The smile was fairly convincing, but it didn't even touch the cold eyes. 'I had heard you were quite ill.'
    'I was,' said Jordan. 'I got over it.' He would have liked to leave it there rather than risk his characterisation at such an early stage, but he could see Lewis was waiting for more. Going by its sudden silence, so was the Court. Jordan cleared his throat, and then wished he hadn't. It made him sound nervous and insecure. 'It was just a chill, Lewis; nothing more. I probably caught it on my travels.'
    'Nasty things, chills,' said Lewis. 'They can get serious. People have been known to die of them, if they don't take care.'
    Oh subtle, Lewis, thought Jordan. Really subtle.
    'That's true,' he said calmly. 'All kinds of people. You never know who's going to catch one next, do you?'
    'I take precautions,' said Lewis.
    'So do I,' said Jordan. 'Lots of them.'
    'You certainly sound better. But appearances can be so misleading.'
    'Don't bet on it, Lewis. I feel strong enough to take on the whole damned world.'
    Lewis looked at him thoughtfully, and Jordan suddenly wondered if he'd walked into a trap. Lewis was the duellist in the family, after all. Jordan thought quickly back on what he'd said, but there didn't seem to be anything Lewis could take as an insult. Had he appeared too confident, perhaps? Viktor had looked to be