Sir Lionel de Montbar sat tending to his righteous wounds within the blood works. He was not disgraced after his defeat. He fought hard and well in the gladiatorial ring. Now there was none that could question his resolve in the face of adversity, his resilience shown through. Unfortunately, that didn’t take the sting away from the wounds he gathered.
He held his ribs as he sat back. His eyes constantly darted towards the magic orb that showed the current spectacle of combat, the remainder of his foes facing off against a fully stacked team with an Amazoness from the Kingdom of Mexico, two warriors of the Empire of America, and a somewhat mythological monster from the plains of Mongolia. The battle was not faring well for his previous foes, getting attacked almost in all directions. His previous designated target was removed quite early by this fearsome four. He was the last one standing at the end of his team’s removal and fighting two on one, he almost put them both away alone, a fantastic achievement on its own, despite it ending in defeat, those dirty underhanded tactics worked. The final match came to a close with the Amazoness held in high regard.
“Aha, a true victory for the Amazon and her companions. She brings great glory to her Kingdom of Mexico. I wish I could be there when she presents her victory and her newly gained artifact to her King. Such a glorious win for a talented warrior… Not quite to undersell her companions and their efforts, but a woman has to have twice the heart to overcome foes twice the size larger than her.” The knight went quiet for a moment, thinking long and hard about Valora, before practically jumping to his feet. “I need to meet with the King of Mexico! It would be grand, a tributary greeting, and perhaps a diplomatic treaty to create a bond between the grand Kingdom of Mexico and the Kingdom of England.”
Lionel picked up his belongings and headed out to the tavern to try and gather information about his newfound crusade of friendship.
The misplaced knight found himself in a tavern with high spirits, as those who witnessed the events of the evening were enjoying the victory of their kingdom. He found himself jovial amongst the common folk. Laughing, drinking, and not understanding a single word passed between them. He didn’t mind these folk not understanding his language, he was a guest after all, and for some reason, these peasants also held the knight in high resolve, despite his loss, his actions did allow for their Amazon to come out victorious. The drinks kept flowing that would make even one of those northern barbarians pass out. Eventually, the drunken knight found a diplomat that spoke in a common tongue.
“You good sir, you must let me seek an audience with your King. It is imperative that I offer my services to your King in good standing.” The drunken knight said, almost slurring his words. The man in front of him was almost taken aback.
“Are you friends of Valora’s?” the man asked, looking at the estranged Englishman.
“I have not yet made her acquaintance, however, I know that the Amazon succeeded in her match this evening. I wish to give her praise, but I doubt she will acknowledge me.” The man continued eyeing Lionel up and down.
“You want to meet the King? Are you sure about that?” The man said, trying to eye Lionel up and down to get a read on them.
“Of course, how else can I express my gratitude for the wonderful bounties and opportunities of this land. My kingdom lacks the gladiatorial games and infighting is usually frowned upon outside of large joust tournaments. It is the least I can do for this wonderful land!”
The man never broke his gaze, reading the strange man. “Alright ese, I guess I can see if he would like to talk.”
The knight watched the man pull out a strange object, almost like a slab of stone, before clicking on a few glyphs and holding it to his face for a few moments before speaking. Lionel stared at it a little bewildered for a moment. This kingdom definitely has its own magic. The man spoke for a few moments into his weird contraption before finally placing it back into his trousers and returning to the knight.
“I can’t believe it, but Don Ignacio would like a meeting with you. We would like to meet with you this evening.” The man said, sort of shaking his head at the weird confusion of it all. Come on, let’s go amigo.”
Lionel nodded and strolled after the odd Mexican diplomat. “I hope your ‘burros’ aren’t that bad, I am used to riding horses, quite fast and reliable. Also, as you are a diplomat, what do they call you?”
The man felt as if he had engaged in some illicit substance dealing with the strange knight, it felt like a fevered dream. “Pablo, and we won’t be riding burros, we will be riding in style in my Camaro.” The man and the knight entered the vehicle and drove off into the dying sunset.
—
Deep into the star-filled night, the vehicle finally came to a stop outside of a shop. Pablo and the estranged Englishman exited the Camaro. Lionel looked around at the location. It seemed like a small shop for the peasants. He read the unlit sign from the light given off by the night sky. “Hel… helado? Why is the King of Mexico here? Where is his royal castle? I know that the bishops and cardinals preach about hell, this can’t be the same place right?” The blonde man looked off at the shop, trying to figure out what was happening, immediately on his guard.
Pablo pressed a button on a stone slab, causing his strange horse to honk like a goose, as their eyes started to go to sleep. “No amigo. Don Ignacio is hiding at the moment, and this is just a small place to keep quiet while running his kingdom, you understand ese?”
Lionel nodded, immediately dropping his guard. “Ahhh, understood. Are the peasants uprising against the rightful king? I can assist to maintain his regime if that is what is needed.”
Pablo led the blonde-haired crazy man to the back of the shop, before going down into a cellar below the building. Pablo embraced a few of his colleagues before bringing the knight in front of the king. Lionel immediately dropped to a knee before the King of Mexico. “King Ignacio, I am Sir Lionel de Montbar. I have heard tales of your accomplishments in your kingdom. Your kingdom is vast and full of wonderful bounties. I am graced to be in this land. Please let me make a strong first impression for the Kingdom of England.”
The entire room stood silent for a moment. The don, a fairly skinny man, moderately tatted, with a paranoid look about himself spoke to his crew first. “El gringo está loco.” He shuffled for a moment, before addressing the knight. “Uh, rise knight. And it is Don Ignacio, it is a sign of respect. We may have some need for your services, seeing how you are skilled in combat.”
Lionel rose, showing off a huge grin. “Ahh, you saw me in the magic mirror. It was a good fight, I almost vanquished those dastardly Germanic combatants, but their numbers finally were my downfall. But alas, I showed the world my strength, I almost brought my rag-tag regiment victory, although I would not have fared well against the hero of the people Valora and her warriors and pet monster.”
The room went quiet after the last statement. The members of the royal guard whispered a bit between them before the king put up his hand and silenced them. “Valora. Puta… Valora is not a hero of the people. She is the reason we are in hiding. She and some others laid waste to many of the cartels, killing many and leaving the land a virtual wasteland to the cartel and those that support the cartel. She is a traitor, not a hero.” The don stopped for a moment, before returning his attention. “Now, I don’t need you to deal with Valora, that will only let her know where to find us, and we need to keep things quiet. But I can use you and your… unique skills to assist me. Because Valora returned to Mexico, the businesses I have under my protection no longer pay me for protection. I need you to assist with getting them to pay their share.”
Lionel stopped and thought for a moment, Valora was a traitor backed by the rebellion, it all made sense now. Listening to the king’s command, Lionel nodded. “It is a peasant's duty to pay their king tax, under penalty of imprisonment or stockades. Just let me know where these peasants are and I will make sure that they pay their fair share, Don Ignacio.”
The don smiled for the first time of the night, bewildered by the strange character in front of him. “Alright, I appreciate your readiness for assisting us with this Lionel. Pablo, you will escort our knight amigo to the shops and collect the taxes in the name of your don.” The don cracked a smile and laughed for a few moments. Pablo could be heard cursing under his breath, stuck with the deranged man for more time, leaving the cellar quickly with the knight in tow.
—
By the night of the second evening, every single shop had paid their share of taxes, and Lionel was thrown a party honoring his servitude to the king of Mexico. The music was loud and the fine spirits flowed freely. A rather drunk Pablo told tales of the knight to the other members of the cartel, getting more and more excited and giddy with each passing story.
“Dude, we came up on Rodriquez’s pottery shop, and Lionel goes up and starts spouting off his knightly valor, and how it is a peasant’s duty to pay their taxes. You all know that el hombre doesn’t speak a lick of English. After he tried to say he didn’t speak English like 5 times, Lionel kept getting louder and louder until he paid up just to get Lionel out of there. Nothing we have tried has ever worked as good.”
“None of them spoke any English, so this strange crazy gringo coming in and spouting nonsense about religious wants and proper treatment, most paid up after a few nudges. The only one that gave us some issues was Markus. The man is stubborn, but as soon as he raised his voice toward Lionel, I swear we were going to have to bury a body. Lionel went off on the man, saying something about having the peasant’s tongue and threatening imprisonment. He grabbed a broom and even threatened the man, almost jabbing it into Markus’ chest a couple of times. Amigos, I swear, nothing was funnier than hearing Markus shit himself right there. It was the most fun I have ever had. I am so glad I ran into you, Lionel.” Pablo said, drunkenly hugging the Englishman. Lionel, also partaking in the revelries after a successful tax collection over the last two days, enjoys the cheering from the members of the royal cartel. Lionel stood up, his glass filled with more than a shot of tequila, before raising it towards the don.
“To Don Ignacio, may your reign be long, and may your kingdom prosper. I am proud to have assisted you with your dispute with the rebellious peasants.” Lionel raised his glass high, the cartel members cheering around him as Lionel drained the smooth tequila, slumping back into the couch next to Pablo. Pablo started to laugh, before coming up with an idea.
“Hey.. hey Lionel. You should let us give you a tattoo… commemorate your time here in Mexico and for your servitude to Don Ignacio.” Pablo said, slurring, looking towards a larger fellow in the corner.
“Pablo, you were an excellent guide and diplomat these past two days, I don't know what a tattoo is, but let's do it!"
—
Lionel sat in the bloodworks at the gladiatorial games in Chichen Itza, rubbing his slightly sore left bicep from his tattoo. They advised that it was a small Mexican skull, an idol of those in the country, and a memory of his assistance that day. He was scheduled for a battle royal, lots of chaos, lots of opponents, and lots of opportunities to take victory. With the king of Mexico’s blessing, there were very few things that could hinder the knight on his path to victory. He was ready for whatever comes. Time for war.