Why do we say "Put up your dukes"?
Years of neutrality and diplomacy had finally worked. King Leonis was hosting two neighboring kings for peace talks between their countries. The disputed land was little more than 3000 acres in the middle of a river – enough to control the trade route in that section of the world.
The three kings, their bodyguards and various sycophants had been feasting for a couple of hours now. Grease from the meats and ale from tankards had covered most of the men’s beards. Bones had been thrown on the floors; Leonis’ hounds were eating well tonight.
“TO PEACE!” Leonis yelled from his position at the head of the table and raised his tankard to each of the other kings.
They raised their tankards and shouted “PEACE!” All three men tilted their mugs up into the air allowing as much ale to flow around their beards as they were drinking.
Leonis rose and gestured for the kings to follow him into the library. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace – totally unnecessary for the time of year. It did make a good show, and sometimes impressing someone was enough to get things to go the right way.
There were several scrolls and a couple of books in Leonis’ library. They had been purchased at a dear price, and the king couldn’t read anyway, but again, impressions were important.
The three men sat down. Leonis looked at the two other kings, “So we are agreed then. Tomorrow, three hours after the sun rises, you will have your best men in the field of honor. The best out of five gives control of the island to the winning king.”
Both kings nodded in agreement. They had been persuaded that this was the best way by envoys sent from King Leonis. Rather than preparing for battle, their peasants were still in their homes doing whatever it was that peasants did to make money for the kingdom.
“If your man dies before the contest has been decided, you may replace him with another man of your choice.” Leonis was just reciting what they had agreed to earlier to day. It had been recorded by scribes and sent out by messenger to the Pope, who was really the only person who had any power to enforce the contract if one of the kings decided to march to war anyway. Possible sanctions by the religious leader would affect not only this life but also the next.
“Who have you chosen?” It didn’t really matter; Leonis was just curious.
“I have chosen Duke Toringer,” said the King from the West.
Not a bad choice. Toringer was known for his battlefield prowess as a mercenary. A paid lance was not against the rules, but it did leave open the possibility that the other king could bribe the duke to lose. Such a bribe would be expensive unless Toringer could find a way to legitimately lose.
“And I have chosen Duke Sargame,” said the King from the North.
Sargame – a complete unknown. Surprise would be with the King from the North.
“Well chosen, Kings. I bid you good night.” Leonis went to his room waiting for what the morning would bring.
Rising with the crow of the cock, Leonis got out of bed and put his robe on. He looked out on the Field of Honor where the final preparations were being made. After a bath and a breakfast fit for himself, Leonis made his way down to the field where the other two kings were waiting.
“It is a fine day, gentlemen.” Leonis inhaled deeply to emphasize his point. The two kings agreed with him. They sat and talked about nothing until the trumpets blew. Then their two men appeared at opposite sides of the list. Each duke walked onto the field and stood beside his horse. Leonis explained the rules and what was at stake. “So Duke Toringer, are you ready?”
Toringer raised his hand.
“Duke Sargame, are you ready?”
Sargame assented.
“Then kings, it is time to put up your dukes!” Toringer and Sargame were helped onto their horses.
The three kings, their bodyguards and various sycophants had been feasting for a couple of hours now. Grease from the meats and ale from tankards had covered most of the men’s beards. Bones had been thrown on the floors; Leonis’ hounds were eating well tonight.
“TO PEACE!” Leonis yelled from his position at the head of the table and raised his tankard to each of the other kings.
They raised their tankards and shouted “PEACE!” All three men tilted their mugs up into the air allowing as much ale to flow around their beards as they were drinking.
Leonis rose and gestured for the kings to follow him into the library. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace – totally unnecessary for the time of year. It did make a good show, and sometimes impressing someone was enough to get things to go the right way.
There were several scrolls and a couple of books in Leonis’ library. They had been purchased at a dear price, and the king couldn’t read anyway, but again, impressions were important.
The three men sat down. Leonis looked at the two other kings, “So we are agreed then. Tomorrow, three hours after the sun rises, you will have your best men in the field of honor. The best out of five gives control of the island to the winning king.”
Both kings nodded in agreement. They had been persuaded that this was the best way by envoys sent from King Leonis. Rather than preparing for battle, their peasants were still in their homes doing whatever it was that peasants did to make money for the kingdom.
“If your man dies before the contest has been decided, you may replace him with another man of your choice.” Leonis was just reciting what they had agreed to earlier to day. It had been recorded by scribes and sent out by messenger to the Pope, who was really the only person who had any power to enforce the contract if one of the kings decided to march to war anyway. Possible sanctions by the religious leader would affect not only this life but also the next.
“Who have you chosen?” It didn’t really matter; Leonis was just curious.
“I have chosen Duke Toringer,” said the King from the West.
Not a bad choice. Toringer was known for his battlefield prowess as a mercenary. A paid lance was not against the rules, but it did leave open the possibility that the other king could bribe the duke to lose. Such a bribe would be expensive unless Toringer could find a way to legitimately lose.
“And I have chosen Duke Sargame,” said the King from the North.
Sargame – a complete unknown. Surprise would be with the King from the North.
“Well chosen, Kings. I bid you good night.” Leonis went to his room waiting for what the morning would bring.
Rising with the crow of the cock, Leonis got out of bed and put his robe on. He looked out on the Field of Honor where the final preparations were being made. After a bath and a breakfast fit for himself, Leonis made his way down to the field where the other two kings were waiting.
“It is a fine day, gentlemen.” Leonis inhaled deeply to emphasize his point. The two kings agreed with him. They sat and talked about nothing until the trumpets blew. Then their two men appeared at opposite sides of the list. Each duke walked onto the field and stood beside his horse. Leonis explained the rules and what was at stake. “So Duke Toringer, are you ready?”
Toringer raised his hand.
“Duke Sargame, are you ready?”
Sargame assented.
“Then kings, it is time to put up your dukes!” Toringer and Sargame were helped onto their horses.