Journey Of Thieves (Book 5) (12 page)

I leaned forward. “If I do this thing, it will be for my own reasons, not for your master’s.”

Kinhira shrugged. “Your motives matter nothing to Prince Radistha. Only your results.”

“And how can Radistha help me achieve those?”

“By providing you access to the queen. This is why he hosts the feast tonight, why Queen Viranathi is a guest, and why you will be among the servants waiting at her table.”

“What? Can it really be that simple?” I asked.

“You are a curiosity whose presence will amuse the guests. A wingless, pale-skinned foreigner, a slayer of dragons, and a brave challenger of queens. Prince Radistha needs no better excuse to have you there.”

I considered what he was suggesting. I had wanted an opportunity to get close to the Drejian queen, and this Prince Radistha, questionable ally though he may be, had the power to supply it.

“Tell your master,” I said, “that we have a deal.”

Chapter Eleven

The hall where Prince Radistha’s feast was held that night was of a similar size to the queen’s throne room, but its furnishings were less austere. Or maybe it was only the noisy crowd of revelers and the merry atmosphere that made this occasion seem so different from that other. The chamber was filled with tables and seats placed so close together that the celebrants were crowded elbow to elbow, and the busy servers had to navigate the room with care. I was one of those silver-tunicked servers, wearing borrowed Drejian-style clothing from Tadra and bustling among the crowds, refilling plates and cleaning spills and keeping tankards full.

I felt conspicuously foreign and out of place with my shorter stature and pale skin and hair, so different from the company around me. I refused to assume the deferential manner of the Drejian servants, and my surly countenance attracted still more attention. Kinhira had been right when he said I would be a curiosity to these folk. As I dodged between tables, bearing trays of food and pitchers of
skeil
, I heard the murmurs behind me, felt the stares on my back. I had picked up only a few words of their tongue from Tadra, but I knew enough to make out that the people I waited on were interested in me and speculating on the reason for my presence. My attendance here, even in the role of servant, danced dangerously close to offering offense against the queen I had so recently angered.

The queen. Since the start of the festivities, I had kept an eye on the big table at the head of the room where she was seated with Prince Radistha and a lot of other important persons. I tried not to lose my courage, but all the while I wondered, would my chance ever come? And if it did, was Radistha’s plan too bold?

I was about to find out. I had kept my distance up to now and had yet to draw Queen Viranathi’s notice. But there was Radistha catching my eye from across the room and casually lifting his tankard for a refill. I recognized this as my excuse to approach. Carrying a silver pitcher of
skeil
, I mounted the steps to the head table. The queen was at Radistha’s right hand, engaged in conversation with her companions, but she broke off speaking to them when her gaze fell on me.

“What is this?” she asked Radistha, her voice rising. “Why comes this wingless magicker into my sight?”

Radistha feigned surprise. “Apologies if I have erred, my queen. But I was short on servers and thought the presence of this strange-looking dragon slayer would amuse the guests.”

Queen Viranathi’s lips drew back in a scowl. “It is not enough she lives and walks free after insulting your queen and destroying the dragon Micanthria? Now you wish me to accept her presence at feasts?”

Radistha’s smile was ingratiating, as though he feared he had dared too much too quickly. “I had not realized my queen’s anger burned so hotly. But of course, if the sight of this foreign dog displeases Your Magnificence, she will be removed.”

My heart beat faster. My ally might be frightened into changing course at the first sign of conflict, but I would not. One way or another, I would resolve matters tonight. Ignoring Radistha’s flick of the wrist signaling me to withdraw, I slammed my pitcher down on the table and placed myself squarely in front of the queen.

Making my voice loud enough for the whole table to hear, I addressed my enemy boldly. “I cannot help but wonder why my presence so disturbs Your Magnificence. Can it be because she does not care to remember that my challenge still awaits a royal answer?”

The queen’s face twisted with distaste. She spoke not to me but to Radistha. “Are you behind the words of this puppet, Radistha? You persuade me to spare her life so that you may use her against me?”

Radistha’s expression was wounded. “You do me a great injury, Your Magnificence. What interest have I in this matter but to see justice done? If this wingless creature has wronged you, I am as eager as any here to see her destroyed in a judicial duel, as the law dictates.”

His tone was conciliatory, but I knew it was no accident he had left me an opening. I pounced on it.

“You see?” I said to the queen. “Your people have faith that you will meet the demands of custom and honor by accepting my challenge. But I? I have no such faith.” For the benefit of the onlookers, I switched to the Drejian speech Tadra and I had practiced. “My opinion is that you fear to meet me in combat for you know I would destroy you as easily as I did your pathetic dragon.”

A hush descended on the room, as every eye in the place fixed on our encounter.

Face contorting with rage, the queen leapt to her feet and stabbed a bony finger at me. “You do not deserve the benefit of our civilized laws, magicker! You are unworthy to stand against me. But if my people wish to see a trial by battle, they shall have it. I have no fear of a wingless stranger, and I welcome the chance to kill you with my own hands.”

She glared at the gathered nobles and spat at Radistha, “Fix this trial for dawn. Then we shall see whose side the gods are on!”

* * *

Immediately after my encounter with the queen, I was escorted away from the feast by a pair of winged guards. I fully expected them to be under instructions to toss me into another miserable prison cell. Instead I was only conducted back to Kinhira’s home, where it seemed I would be permitted to spend my last night before the judicial combat.

Nonetheless, the guards stationed themselves outside the home. Clearly no chances were to be taken that I might suddenly decide to toss everything aside and run for my life. I halfheartedly wondered if I stood any chances of besting the guards if I took them by surprise, but didn’t seriously entertain the idea. I had as much reason to stay as before. Every soul back in Swiftsfell was depending on me. They just didn’t know it.

Kinhira didn’t return with me, and it was hours before he finally stepped through the door. Finding his daughter and me on the cushions before the fire where I had just been relating to Tadra the events of the night, he dropped a canvas sack at my feet.

“What is this? I asked. “Where have you been all this time?”

He explained that Radistha had needed him to make many arrangements for tomorrow’s trial. He had also given instructions for my preparation.

“I don’t understand. What have I to prepare for?” I asked, opening the mouth of the sack and peering inside. In the bottom rested a black metal band, remarkably similar to the one already clasped around my ankle.

“Use that item well,” said Kinhira, “and it will be the key to your victory.”

“How so?”

“Queen Viranathi has placed certain rules on tomorrow’s trial, one of them being that the ‘wingless magicker’ may not use any of her unnatural powers to achieve victory. If you do so, any win will be invalidated. To ensure that you respect the rule, you will be required to fight with your nathamite band in place.”

My heart sank as I felt any hope I’d had of victory slip away. “And because one nathamite shackle does not hamper me enough, she sends a second one?”

He shook his head. “This gift comes from Radistha, not the queen. Take a closer look.”

Obediently I upended the sack, letting its contents clatter on the floor. In the flickering firelight, I now noticed subtle differences between the new band and the one I currently wore. This one was thicker, heavier. And when I scratched it, my fingernail left behind a small streak of silver where the black coloring flaked away.

Kinhira said, “I’ve sent for someone to bring the necessary tools and remove the nathamite band to replace it with this false twin. I’ve also bribed the guards outside to let him pass. They have no love for Queen Viranathi, and their orders are to keep you indoors, not to bar the entrance of others. With any luck, our deception will go unnoticed tomorrow, and your only challenge during the trial will be to survive long enough to defeat the queen by means of some subtle magic. Remember that whatever tricks you use must be invisible to the spectators or you will forfeit your victory and do your Swiftsfell friends no good.”

I poked at the false shackle. “Radistha’s plan is a solid one, but I cannot go through with it.”

I was as surprised by my decision as Kinhira and Tadra were, but I knew the moment I said the words that they were right and I would stand by them. What I did not know was how to make the others see my reasoning. It wasn’t as if I had ever cared in the past whether I won a fight fairly, as long as I got the outcome I needed. But this time was different. Radistha had agreed on my behalf that I would not violate the accepted regulations, and I was bound by his word. I hated it but saw no choice.

Kinhira tried to change my mind, and we debated long into the night. A stranger came and went, removing my nathamite shackle and replacing it with the false one. I allowed him to do it and joyfully embraced my magic once again, now the barrier between it and me was gone. But I remained determined.

Later, after everyone had given up trying to persuade me and had gone to their beds, I lay awake for a long time, gazing into the coals of the dying fire and wondering if this was my last night to live. The final thing I felt as I drifted off to sleep was the vaguely uncomfortable bite of the false shackle digging into my flesh.

My dreams had not been restful lately, and tonight was no exception. I dreamed of Myria admonishing me and of all the inhabitants of Swiftsfell dying because of my stubborn refusal to use every tool at my disposal to save them. Mixed in were memories of Hadrian in the old days, lecturing me about duty and honor. And Terrac? He faded in and out of my dreams, sometimes appearing as the young man I now knew, other times reverting to the annoyingly self-righteous boy he had been at our first meeting years ago. I awoke more confused than ever.

It was nearly dawn.

Chapter Twelve

The trial took place in a cavernous arena with elevated seating that seemed to hold the entire population of the fortress. The noise of the gathered audience bounced around the walls in a blend of voices, laughter, and shuffling, stamping feet that I tried to close my ears to.

As I waited at the edge of the arena, Drejian guards surrounded me as though my enemies feared I would flee. They weren’t far wrong. My mouth was uncomfortably dry as I watched Radistha before me, making a speech to the gathered spectators. I understood only a few words but made out that he was explaining what brought us here and what was at stake for the two combatants.

Kinhira was at my elbow. He had, in fact, stayed with me all morning, and I was grateful to have one supporter at my side. I had never figured out what he thought of me personally, but there was no question that, if only from allegiance to his master, he wanted my victory. That made him the nearest thing to a friend I had in this place.

As the queen came into view, I licked my lips nervously and wondered if I would ever see my real friends again. Would I set eyes on Terrac again? Or was this my last day, my final hour?

An unexpected commotion from behind drew my attention, and I turned to find Tadra pushing her way through the guards to reach my side. After her strange absence all morning, I had thought she might not attend the event, but here she was.

Her face glowed with excitement. “I have brought something to help you,” she said mysteriously.

My hopes rose as I saw what it was. “My bow? How did you come by this? I thought it was lost for good.”

Looking pleased with herself, she handed it over along with an unfamiliar quiver filled with arrows. These simple arrows of Drejian design looked incongruous next to my beautifully constructed Skeltai bow, but I cared nothing for that.

Tadra said, “I heard your weapons were taken at your capture, and I thought you would fight with more confidence if you had them back.”

She didn’t know how true that was. Kinhira had helped me choose my weapons earlier—a short sword and wooden shield. The sword had never been my strongest weapon, and I had no experience fighting with a shield nor time to practice with this one. Kinhira had insisted that with the queen’s choice of weapon a shield would be a necessity, and I had trusted his advice. But having my own weapons as backup was a tremendous relief.

The instant I closed my fist around the wooden arm of the bow, I felt it vibrate to life beneath my fingers as if it had been waiting for me. As it glowed warmly against my skin, I imagined I could hear its whispered greeting tickling along the edges of my mind.

Just as in the old days, we were one.

With a surge of renewed energy, I accepted my throwing knives, which Tadra had also obtained, and tucked them into their usual places before slinging the bow and quiver across my back.

Kinhira cut into my thoughts. “My master is now explaining the rules of the trial. He says that while neither combatant will use magic to obtain a cheap victory, both are permitted the manmade weapons of their choice. Also, that the fight is to the death and no outside forces will interfere.”

Queen Viranathi had begun parading around the arena to the cheers of the crowd. She still wore her royal circlet with its curtain of golden beads trailing down her back and shoulders. But she had exchanged her jewels and scarlet garments for half armor that shielded her breast and abdomen. She had adorned her already bone-tipped wings with more sharp spikes of gold that glinted with her movements, beautiful as they were deadly.

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