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“And he thanked me and said he would be in contact. That there were many things he needed to do first.” I chance a glance at him and watch as he turns ahead, clenching his jaw and fisting his hands.
“I knew we shouldn’t have trusted him,” he grits out.
“Youare not the one who did a blood-binding vow with him,” I remind him, and he winces.
Shaking his head, he sighs to himself before moving a step closer to me and lowering his voice.
“I have been searching the palace every chance I get, but I have yet to find anything.”
“Maybe we are looking in the wrong place?” I tell him. The palace is a labyrinth of halls and passageways. I doubt we would be able to search them all in the time we have here.
He glances ahead with a faraway look on his face. “I just need a clue or a lead.Something.”
“What you need is to focus on this trial. Let us figure out the rest after,” I remind him, hoping he doesn’t get inside his head too much and end up maimed because of it.
He nods his head as a reply, heeding my warning, and we both catch the end of Alderic’s speech as a wall of weapons is laid out to the side. He wishes us good luck before moving into the shadows.
A guard goes around dividing the large group into two. The strongest fighters are told to take a seat, while the less skilled fighters are paired up and told to gather around the edges of the arena.
The group I end up in is the less skilled one, making me chuckle quietly to myself. The competitors around me frown, glancing from one another over to the other group.
Only one is bold enough to question the guard’s decision.
“Sir? I think there has been a mistake. Seren should be over there.” He points over to the stronger fighters. “Should she not?”
“She will fight who we say,” the guard growls out, giving him a sharp look that quickly shuts him up.
“Yes, sir,” he replies before moving off to the side with his pair.
I glance over at Oryn and his group and catch his frown as he watches me, but I expected some sort of foul play. They were never going to make it easy for me, or equal for that matter.
If I were to guess, their hopes would be to attempt to exhaust and weaken me by forcing me to fight the less skilled fighters, hoping when they make me fight the stronger ones, that I will make a mistake and fail.
But what they don’t realize is the gift they have just given me. A day of fighting is something I will always look forward to.
The first pair from my group choose their weapons. One chooses a long wooden spear with a steel tip, while the other chooses an axe. They take their positions and begin.
Sizing each other up, they give each other enough distance before attacking. The one who chose the axe is larger than the one with the spear. He quickly gains distance on him, his size giving him an advantage to push his opponent back.
Though their fighting is clumsy with an attempt at brutality, they make too many mistakes to show any real level of skill.
The smaller man manages to gain some distance from the other, and with the spear in his hand, he directs it with a force and strength I didn’t think he had inside him.
A scream of pain rings out as the spear pierces the other competitor’s thigh, bringing him to his knees.
“Seren will fight the winner,” a guard announces.
Without question, I head to the wall of weapons and choose a long sword, testing its weight in my hands before moving to the center of the arena.
The man retrieves his bloodied spear as a couple of guards cart the injured competitor away. He stands across from me, his face growing ashen.
“Begin,” the guard shouts out.
From watching the previous fight, I can tell his plan is to try to get me at a distance, his only true skill to wield the spear at a long range. Before he gets the chance to move, I whip forward and slice the wooden shaft in half before sliding my blade across the arm that holds it.
My aim is precise, just deep enough to make him drop the head of the spear and reach for the wound to try to staunch the bleeding.
A guard quickly shuffles him off before another two are paired off and another fight begins.
