***
Hadrian managed to stop Nimbus’s bleeding. The tutor’s nose did not appear broken. Even so, none of them was interested in returning to the banquet hall. Hadrian and Breckton escorted Nimbus to his room, where the slim man thanked the two knights for their assistance.
“You fight well,” Breckton said as he and Hadrian walked the palace corridors back toward the knights’ wing.
“Why did they attack you?”
“They were drunk.”
“Where I come from, drunks sing badly and sleep with ugly women. They don’t attack rival knights and courtly gentlemen.”
Breckton was quiet for a moment then asked, “Where do you come from, Sir Hadrian?”
“Saldur explained—”
“Some of the men that fought with Lord Dermont and survived the Battle of Ratibor joined my army in the north. Captain Lowell was one of them. His accounting of that day in no way resembles the tale Regent Saldur described. I would not embarrass the regent or yourself by mentioning it in public, but now that we are alone…”
Hadrian said nothing.
“What Lowell did tell me was the entire Imperial Army was caught sleeping on that rainy morning. Most never managed to strap on a sword, much less mount a horse.”
Hadrian simply replied, “It was a very confusing day.”
“So you say, but perhaps you were never there at all. A knight taking credit for another’s valor is most dishonorable.”
“I can assure you, I was there,” Hadrian said sincerely. “And that I rode across the muddy field leading men into battle that morning.”
Breckton stopped at the entrance of his own room and studied Hadrian’s face. “You must forgive me for my rudeness. You have aided me this evening, and I have responded with accusations. It is unseemly for one knight to accuse another without proper evidence. I will not let it happen again. Good night.”
He offered Hadrian a curt nod and left him alone in the corridor.