Kingslayer (40 page)

Grygotis held back a scream but the sound that came through his teeth spoke of nothing but pain. He hobbled three steps forward, dragging his left leg behind him, before painfully turning around to face Darius. The expression on his face was that of a wounded animal who had been cornered by this unexpected and hungry predator.

Fortunately for him, Darius wasn’t a hungry tiger looking for a nice snack. He left his blade angled and to the side, clearly not in a threatening stance. “I think I’ve won, Grygotis. Will you yield?”

Perhaps it was wounded pride. Or perhaps desperation. Whatever the case, Grygotis shook his head like an angry bull, lifting his sword in a firmer grip. “I will not! I WILL—”

Darius
moved
, closing the distance between them so quickly that air vacuumed in his wake. He stopped a hair’s breadth away, his blade under Grygotis’s chin, the edge of his blade
just
resting against skin. Grygotis’s words died as he sucked in air on a screech of alarm. Darius looked up with the promise of death in his eyes. “You will yield or I behead you where you stand,” he breathed.

Grygotis didn’t even dare gulp. His tongue darted out to lick dry lips. He knew that if he said “No,” Darius truly would kill him then and there and wouldn’t lose an ounce of sleep over it afterwards. “Y-yield,” he croaked.

First good decision the man had made all day. Carefully—lest he slit the man’s throat by accident—he stepped back and lowered his sword. Grygotis faltered as well, trying to avoid putting weight on that bad leg, no doubt.

Tresea rose from her seat and clapped three times loudly. “I am satisfied. The winner of this duel is Darius Bresalier, Raj of Soohr!”

The crowd broke out in thundering applause. Darius didn’t expect this open approval and looked about in astonishment. He caught sight of even some of his enemies at court clapping, with grudging smiles on their faces. Apparently, in Niotan,
everyone
appreciated a good fight. Or perhaps he had won a measure of acceptance with them for following one of their more ancient traditions? He’d have to ask Sego for his impressions later.

Grygotis’s men scurried to his side and quickly helped him from the field. Darius watched him go for a moment. It sat ill with him, leaving an enemy like that alive. He hoped that it wouldn’t come back to haunt him later.

Tresea waved her hands downward, trying to get them to settle down enough for her to continue speaking. “As winner of this duel, Raj Bresalier will of course claim his prize of—oh!” she cut herself off and lifted a hand to her mouth, almost laughing.

Huh? Darius turned to see what had caught Tresea’s attention. Amalah, apparently too impatient to wait for the official announcement, had climbed out of the spectator’s seating and was running toward him. He barely had time to make sure his sword was well out of the way before she threw both arms around his neck and hugged him tight. He put a supportive arm around her waist and hugged her back just as hard, burying his face against the sweet curls of her hair. Then he just breathed, soaking the moment in. All of his worrying, all of his planning, all of the fighting…it had been worth it, just to win this moment.

The romantics in the crowd cheered even louder at this but Darius ignored them. To Amalah, he whispered against her ear, “I thought you were sure I’d win?”

“I was sure,” she responded against his shoulder, her arms tightening. “I’m also
relieved
you won and
ecstatic
that you won!”

Chuckling, he kissed her forehead and gently set her feet back to earth. “Yes, I can see that.”

“Ahem.” Tresea smiled at them indulgently. “I was about to say that you are awarded Raja Amalah Sebresos’s hand and dowry.”

Amalah, belatedly realizing that she had perhaps made a spectacle, untangled herself enough to stand properly on her own two feet. She kept an iron grip on Darius’s hand, though.

“I thank you, My Queen,” Darius responded formally, bowing. “I have a correction to make, however.”

“Oh?” Tresea had that look in her eye that suggested this had better be good. She didn’t like being publicly corrected.

Darius shrugged apologetically. “I did not, perhaps, clarify the matter when I informed you of it last night. I did not challenge for Amalah and her dowry, but simply for Amalah herself. Grygotis may keep the land.”

That
got the crowd stirred up. People were talking to each other in quick murmurs, mostly shocked that he would turn a rich dowry down. They rumbled like an approaching storm.

Tresea had a patient look on her face, the same one that a mother would have when their child had just said something stupid. “Darius, in this land, the dowry cannot be separated from the woman except by death or inheritance. Raja Amalah’s dowry came with her automatically by law when you challenged Raj Merikh. When you won, it automatically became yours in turn.”

Huh. So he got it regardless. Turning, he looked at Amalah for her opinion. She gave him a firm shake of the head, mouth pursed. Right. She didn’t want it. Now, how did he make everyone happy? “My Queen, in my homeland we do not have dowries. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. We offer a bride price to the woman’s family when we propose.”

Tresea’s eyebrows lifted. “Ohhh. How novel. Is that why you are uneasy with this?”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “It seems very backwards to me, My Queen. That is why I’m reluctant to take it. If it truly is mine at this point, might I offer it back to Raj Sebresos? As my bride price.”

Her eyebrows remained quirked, although she seemed more amused than anything. “I don’t see why not. Raj Sebresos.” She turned until she found the man, seated on the far side of the courtyard. “Is this agreeable to you?”

Darius turned to see the man’s reaction. Sebresos watched him with unfathomable eyes for a long moment. He knew full well that his method of winning Amalah would put him at odds with his in-laws. That might never change. Then again, when they saw that he was a good husband for their daughter, it might.

“I wish to add something to this bride price,” Sebresos stated finally. “Bresalier, my only son is twelve years old on this day. I wish for him to inherit a seat at the General’s Table. Will you mentor him so that he may do so?”

Take Amalah’s brother on as a student? The thought had never crossed his mind to take
any
students. But if he were truly to leave this country in the hands of capable men that would protect it in future generations, then he should pass down everything he knew. He looked at Amalah, silently asking what she thought of this idea.

She nodded eagerly, eyes shining in excitement.

Well, if she agreed, then… Darius turned back to his future father-in-law and nodded. “I will accept him.”

Sebresos nodded in satisfaction. “Then the bargain is struck.”

“Excellent,” Tresea purred. “On this day, at this hour, I declare Amalah Sebresos and Darius Bresalier betrothed. Let no man break this binding.” She eyed the couple in front of her thoughtfully, one finger playing with her bottom lip. “Are you sure that I can’t just marry you right now as well?”

Amalah froze and stared at her in unadulterated panic.

Darius coughed to disguise a laugh. “My Queen, I think that my bride to be would like to have at least a
little
time to prepare.”

“Darius,” she responded mildly, “you’re taking all of the fun out of this.”

It took iron control to keep from smiling. “My apologies, My Queen.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly not believing him. “Oh, off with you both!”

“Tolk.”

“Yes, Raj.”

“I will personally
strangle
the next person that comes through that door.”

Tolk very carefully didn’t smile. “I will guard with my life, Raj.”

“Good man.” All he wanted was an hour of peace with Amalah. Was that really so much to ask for?

Amalah giggled behind him. Alright, perhaps he was blowing this out of proportion a little, but still. Why couldn’t anyone understand that after going through a duel this morning, he wanted some one-on-one time with his fiancé?

“I have the perfect remedy,” she assured him, taking him by the hand and leading him further into his study.

He’d retreated to his own suite with her in the hopes that it would discourage people from randomly stopping them. It had worked, but only with casual acquaintances. The others were of the opinion that since they knew him well enough to pry, they could. But having to hide in his own war room was a little ridiculous.

She led him directly to the open bench in front of the window. “Here, sit and put your head in my lap.”

Oh? He perked up hopefully. Was she going to do what he hoped? As soon as she settled, he put his back to the bench and pillowed his head on her thighs. He didn’t quite have enough room to stretch out, so he bent one leg up and put the other on the floor to balance out. Then, as he’d hoped, she started carding her fingers through his hair. With every stroke, it seemed that the tension in him fled a little more. His eyes fell shut as he basked in the feel of the rhythmic tug and pull of his scalp.

“Amalah.”

“Yes, dearest.”

“Can you do this every night for the rest of my life?”

She shook a little with a silent laugh. “Only if we can take turns.”

“Sounds fair to me.” He left his eyes closed even as he smiled.

“I…,” her hand faltered for a moment before resuming. “I didn’t think you’d fight him.”

He couldn’t let that one pass. He opened his eyes to meet hers. Her smile looked almost rueful. “Well, at first, I didn’t know I
could
. We don’t have that tradition anywhere in Brindisi. But why didn’t you think so?”

“You have such a strong opinion of oaths and oath-breaking.” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes, and her fingers slowed. “I wasn’t sure what you would do because of that.”

Ahhh. Well, she had a good point. “I really wrestled with myself,” he admitted, letting his eyes fall closed again. “In the end, I couldn’t let you go to him. I could kick myself for not talking it over with Sego sooner, though. If I had known about this tradition, I would have come for you well before this.”

“I don’t really mind the timing, though. You told me you’d never let any harm befall me and I believed you. Even if you had to cross that goat’s son to do it.”

Very true. “You don’t think he’s going to cause trouble for us later, do you?”

“He’ll probably try.” She let out a long sigh. “Not openly, as he’d lose more face that way.”

“I unfortunately agree with you.” But he didn’t want to think about that now. He’d won a day where he could think about only happy things. “So when do you want to be married? I’m amiable to either a month from now or three months from now.”

She looked down at him in confusion. “Why not two months?”

“We’re fighting a naval battle in two months,” he replied simply.

Her eyes flew wide. “And you’re still considering a marriage ceremony
before
then?!”

 “Why not? I’ve done most of the work I can. It’s been all delegated out to the right people. All I have to do is ride herd on it and make sure things happen when they should. And actually, my staff can do that almost as well as I can. That’s why I had the time to duel with Grygotis, actually. If it had happened even a week before, I would have had to put off dealing with him.” He thanked Shaa that hadn’t happened, actually. It would have killed him to make her wait even a second longer. He wouldn’t have had a choice, though. The safety of the whole country depended on his plans.

Her incredulous look hadn’t faded. After a long moment, she finally managed, “I think I feel better about three months.”

“Alright,” he agreed amiably. After living with five females during his formative years, he knew better than to argue with a woman about wedding plans. Actually, if he had three months to plan with, he might find a way to get his family here…or at least be able to get a portrait of her commissioned and sent to them. “You might need that time more than you think anyway,” he added thoughtfully. “The estate that I was given hasn’t had a reigning family in it for almost 20 years. I understand it needs some work.”

“Some work,” Amalah repeated in despair. “It’s likely in a very poor condition.”

“I’ll save the country if you resurrect the house,” he offered with an ingenious smile.

His betrothed gave him a suspicious look. “How is it that when you say it in that way, it sounds like you have the easier job?”

“Because I’ll have more help than you will?” he offered artlessly.

She shook her head in resignation. “It’ll fall to me regardless. You have no idea what to do with a house.”

Very true. Although he was an expert at destroying them. “Keep Sego with you. He’s excellent at this sort of thing. And you can hire whatever help you need, of course.” As an afterthought he tacked on, “Just don’t bankrupt us.”

“Sego and I will figure it out,” she assured him. “Hopefully in time for our wedding day although I can’t promise that until I see the place. Have you?”

“No, haven’t had the time. It’s a five hour trip from here, after all. All I know is that it lies on a regular trade route between Izeh and Khoor.”