Servant of the Crown (3 page)

“It wouldn’t be right,” he finally said.

“Right?” she said, taken aback. “How is that not right? You’re the only powder mage known to be good at what he does. I want you to teach me to shoot, to burn powder, to fight with a powder trance.”

Tamas made a calming gesture and changed tactics. “My lady, you just met me. I know the state of magery in Kez. I know you’ve only escaped the noose because of your family. If word got out that you were being trained, they would kill you outright. You shouldn’t have told me any of this.”

“I know your background,” Erika said. “I’m not a fool. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t know your dislike of the cabals or of the nobility. You’re not going turn me over to the Kez cabal.”

“What if I disliked nobles so much that I’d want to see you dead because of your station?”

Erika was aghast. “You would not!”

“No,” Tamas agreed. “I wouldn’t. But you shouldn’t have risked it. My lady, I cannot train you.”

Erika opened her mouth, but she was interrupted by the arrival of a man and woman. Tamas recognized them as the couple that he’d disrupted with his terrible dancing.

The man looked Tamas up and down disdainfully. “You, sir, owe my fiancée an apology. She turned her ankle because of your clumsiness.

Tamas turned to the woman, who, beyond her angry scowl, looked completely unharmed. He bit his tongue. This wasn’t the time or the place for him to get into any more trouble. Through clenched teeth, he said, “My apologies, madam. I’m not a very good dancer.”

The man gave Tamas a brisk nod and turned away, seemingly satisfied. Suddenly he stopped. “I recognize you.”

“I don’t think we’ve met,” Tamas responded.

“I do. You’re Captain Tamas, aren’t you?”

Tamas glanced at Erika, hoping that she would see trouble on the horizon and take this opportunity to make her exit. “I am.”

“Hah! No wonder you were such a klutz. My love, this man is that commoner upstart I was telling you about.”

Tamas forced a smile onto his face.
Stay out of trouble
, Colonel Westeven had said. Tamas had promised to lie low. Pit, this whole trip had been a mistake.

“A commoner!” the man continued. “Pit, Ildal will have a stroke when he hears they let a commoner into one of his masquerades.”

Tamas continued to bite his tongue. Erika was still here, watching the interaction with her jaw set, eyes narrowed. Something about the way she had set her feet made him rethink his initial opinion of her. She may be a noble, but she was nothing like these two. “My lady, I should go. Dancing with you was the best part of my trip to the city. I do hope you’ll forgive me for leaving early.”

“Don’t you turn your back on me!” the man said as Tamas made to leave. He grasped Tamas by the arm.

Tamas pulled away insistently and straightened his jacket. He could feel his face turning red, and several dozen sets of eyes turning to watch the confrontation.

The man pointed at Tamas. “You have no right to be here, commoner. And you,” he said, turning to Erika. “What kind of a whore do you have to be to dance with a man like that?”

“That’s quite enough!” Tamas roared. He had his hand on his sword, and he stepped forward, finally pushed to his limit.

Erika was quicker. She stepped in front of him, facing the noble. “It is quite enough, I agree. What is your name?”

The noble drew himself up. “My name is Lord Vendril.”

“Spell it out for me,” Erika said, leaning forward. “Because I’m going to carve it into your chest.” She removed one of her gloves and slapped it across his startled face. “Small swords in the Dirkwood Courtyard tomorrow at noon. Captain Tamas?”

Tamas was just as startled as Vendril. “Yes?”

“Will you act as my second?”

“I will.”

“Excellent. Lord Vendril, I will see you tomorrow afternoon or all of Adro will know you for a coward. Good day.”

“I think this is a mistake,” Tamas said.

The sky overhead was a brilliant blue, the sun just past its zenith. They stood in the Dirkwood Courtyard, a small, walled practicing ground used by local fencers in northern Budwiel. Today it was abandoned, and Tamas wondered if Erika had arranged that.

Lady Erika wore form-fitting soft leather trousers, riding boots, and a light jacket. Tamas had his uniform on under a black greatcoat and could still feel the chill, and he wondered how she was staying warm. The first snow of the winter would come any day.

“You don’t think I can fight a duel?” Erika asked. She squared her shoulders and bent at the waist, touching the ground, staying that way for several minutes.

“I would not dare to comment upon your abilities with a sword,” Tamas said, though he had his doubts. “Knowing who you are, it seems unwise for you to fight a duel with the best-known powder mage in Adro as your second.”

“My mother mentioned that very thing this morning,” Erika said. “We decided that it was best I not release you as my second. That would attract even more attention.”

“Your parents know about this?”

“Of course they do! You think I keep secrets from them?”

“Most young ladies do, in my experience.”

“Do you have a lot of experience with young ladies?” Erika asked, the look in her eye warning him to be careful about how he answered.

“More than I should. Less than I’d like.”

Erika laughed, a sound like wind chimes in a light breeze.

Tamas cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, my lady, that was inappropriate.” What was he doing? Did he think he was flirting with her? This woman would be a duchess someday! He would conclude this business and head back to Adopest where he could forget her entirely.

“Apology accepted,” Erika said.

“About the duel,” Tamas continued. “It’s my duty as your second to try to talk sense into you.” He paused for only a moment to consider the irony of his words, after ignoring a very similar warning from Matin only weeks ago. “I hope you’re not doing this on my account.”

“Why would you think that?”

“The man was provoking me.”

“Was I not insulted as well? Should I have stood by and let it continue?”

“No, my lady. You’re right. I apologize again.”

She gave him the slightest of smiles. “And I accept your apology again.”

Tamas was at once relieved and conflicted. He didn’t
need
to be defended by a noble. At the same time, a noble thinking that he was worth defending was a rather nice sentiment.

As she said, though, this was for her own honor. “What in the Nine are you doing?” Tamas asked.

“Stretching,” she said, bending first to her right and then to her left.

“Why?”

“It limbers the muscles before a fight.”

“You look ridiculous.”

“I’ll look more ridiculous with blood on this jacket.”

Tamas pursed his lips. He couldn’t very well argue with that logic. He watched as a pair of figures ducked through the arched entryway to the courtyard. Lord Vendril had arrived. He wore a fine, loose-fitting fencing jacket and tight pants, and he carried his sword on his hip. His second was a broad-shouldered man with skin several shades darker than Tamas, hinting at Deliv ancestry.

“What are your terms?” Tamas asked Erika.

Erika sniffed. “I suppose you’d argue if I said ‘to the death?’”

“I would.”

“A pity. First blood, then, even if I won’t be able to carve his name into his chest.”

Tamas coughed into his hand.

Erika sighed. “You have no sense of humor, do you, Captain?”

“Very little, my lady.” Tamas was about to comment on how little use a sense of humor was when dealing with the nobility but instead just added, “I’m a military man.”

“We’ll have to change that.”

“I wouldn’t give up the military for the world, my lady.”

“I meant your sense of humor, Captain.”

“I see.”
Little chance of that
, he thought. Aloud, he said, “Lord Vendril is waiting, my lady.”

“Let him wait.”

Tamas couldn’t help but crack a smile. Against his better judgment, he liked this woman. She flirted with levity, but there was something ruthless about her floating just beneath the surface. “Would you like to give him the chance to apologize?”

“Pit, no. He called me a whore. No one gets away with that. My grandfather would have me flayed.” She finally seemed satisfied with her stretches and looked toward Lord Vendril, who stood watching her with a curl to his lip. “He’s been there long enough. Let’s get on with this.”

Tamas met Lord Vendril’s second in the middle of the courtyard. The man’s face seemed set in a perpetual scowl.

“My lady proposes the duel go until first blood,” Tamas said.

Lord Vendril’s second responded, “And my lord wouldn’t have it any other way. He doesn’t want to be forced to do more damage to that pretty face than he has to.”

“My lady doesn’t consider him worth the time.”

They stared at each other for a moment before the second looked away. “We are agreed?” he mumbled.

“We’re agreed,” Tamas confirmed.

Tamas returned to Erika and gave her a nod. She drew her small sword and handed the scabbard to Tamas, giving a few theatrical flourishes. Tamas had a pang of doubt, wondering if she’d ever actually experienced anything more than a bit of light sword play. If she embarrassed herself here, he would be forced to step in and take things further with Lord Vendril.

“Tell me, Tamas, are you any good with a sword?”

Tamas felt goose bumps on the back of his neck when she said his name. “Only moderately. I prefer to kill with a pistol or a rifle.”

“And in close quarters you wield a sword like a butcher, is that correct?” She made a tut-tutting sound with her tongue. “Adran swordplay is so … primitive.” She didn’t wait for his answer, proceeding to the center of the courtyard where she faced Lord Vendril and raised her hilt to her face in a Kez salute, then fell into a loose, almost careless stance.

Her confidence made her seem so much older. Regardless, Tamas’s worry deepened. Was she not taking this seriously? She was young, but she was the heir to a duchy. Surely she would have been taught the rules to this sort of game. Blood
would
be spilled.

Vendril attacked first. He stepped forward swiftly, the point of his sword flicking forward. Erika parried the attack. And then the one that followed. And then another.

Within moments she seemed to have fallen into a pattern of deflections, not offering a single attack of her own. Tamas cursed her silently, willing her to go on the offensive. What the pit was she playing at?

Vendril changed up his tactics, feinting and pulling back, ducking and moving. He went through half a dozen basic fencing moves while Erika parried every single one.

Slowly, Erika increased the speed of her parries. It was so gradual that Tamas might have missed it, but there were soon openings in Vendril’s attacks during which Erika could have easily counter-attacked. But she did not follow through.

Tamas could see a bead of sweat on her brow.
Was she afraid of winning?
he wondered. He’d heard of duelists overcome with that fear. As silly as it sounded, some people did not have the constitution to draw blood.

In the blink of an eye, he almost missed her riposte. Vendril’s sword was slapped aside violently and his middle exposed. Her blade darted forward, slashing, and Vendril gave a startled yelp. He stumbled backward and landed on his elbows. Lady Erika just stood above him, bloodied tip of her sword hovering over his chest.

“If you call me a whore again,” she said, “You won’t have to worry about how you spell your name. My honor is satisfied. Now get out of my sight.”

Vendril was helped to his feet by his second, and the two men fled from the courtyard.

Tamas offered Erika a handkerchief with which to clean her sword. “You only spelled the first three letters,” he said.

“His name was too long. Sorry to disappoint.” Erika wiped her sword then took back her scabbard.

“I’m not disappointed at all. That was …”

“Exciting?” she asked.

“Impressive,” he finished. “Where did you learn to fence like that?”

“I had a very good teacher.” Erika’s smile faltered for just a moment, then returned. “Tell me, from the eye of a military man, what did you think?”

Tamas hesitated. He’d gotten into trouble before being honest with nobles, even when he thought he was giving them a compliment. “You’re extraordinarily fast. I’m no expert in fencing, but I am somewhat skilled in drawing blood. With the right training, you’ll be an unrivaled killer. But I think you should have finished it quicker.”

“I was learning his tells. His cadence.”

“All for a show of bravado.”

“You don’t approve.” She tilted her head to one side.

“I don’t. I don’t believe in toying with my prey.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raised in mock shock. “You don’t? Tell me, Captain, what is a duel for?”

“To settle a matter of honor.”

“And to send a message. He’ll remember me. His second will remember me.”

“Perhaps not in the way you’d like.”

“When you blew off Captain Linz’s ear a few weeks ago, what message were you trying to send?”

She knew about that?
Tamas wondered. “I don’t see how …”

“By taking off his earlobe, you were telling him that you could have made a canal out of his skull, but he wasn’t worth your time. Am I wrong?”

Tamas watched her carefully, once more thinking that there was far more to this woman than met the eye. He thought he should be uncomfortable having his expectations challenged in such a way, but found that he rather enjoyed it. “No.”

“I thought not. Dueling is not just about blood or honor. It’s about the message. Don’t they teach you anything in Adro?”

“I’ve never had a fencing instructor, beyond the odd military sergeant with some talent. I could never afford one.” Tamas grimaced, reminded once again at the gulf between them. Erika, talented as she was, was a noble’s daughter. She had everything she could possibly want. She did not need to struggle for her future.

Tamas’s entire career was on the line because of a duel.