Branded

by Clare London

  A jolt to my body brought my attention back to the current battle, as one of my Silvers staggered against me. He was fighting sword to sword with two of Flora’s men. The soldier I’d defeated eased himself to his feet, clutching at his torso. Blood seeped through his fingers, proving I’d wounded him, but he could still move unaided and didn’t need help to leave the field. I turned away from him, knowing both the rules of the battle and his own personal honor would prevent him taking any further part, and lent my sword to my Silver’s struggle. We stepped forward together, gathering around the two opponents and trapping them between us with swift, coordinated swordplay. I’d practiced this strategy many times and trained all my Guard in its execution. Despite my weariness I felt a burst of new strength and determination, and Edrius, my Silver Captain, began to show more confidence alongside me. Together we forced the other men off balance and to their knees. At the same time, we brought our swords down flat upon their badges and they yielded.

  I looked across at Edrius and he grinned back. His eyes were alight with excitement, his cheeks flushed with fever from the fight. This was the first battle he’d ever seen, let alone taken part in. He was some years younger than I, but a very promising soldier. His youthful enthusiasm made him careless sometimes, but he was fiercely loyal, and I’d found him a responsive and intelligent young man to train. It was critical he remained concentrated on the combat, for there were still many enemy soldiers fighting against us on this last level, but I wouldn’t deny him his triumph this time.

  “A fine maneuver,” I said.

  He grinned more broadly. “There’s only Flora left, sir.”

  “Mistress Flora,” I reminded him sharply. The Mistresses, though we fought against their personal Guards today, must always have our full respect.

  Edrius flushed, this time with shame. “Of course, Mistress Flora. Forgive me, sir. But Mistress Chloe and Mistress Nerisa have already surrendered. Their men are in the cage.” His eyes shone with zeal, and maybe also with anticipation of our Mistress’s spoils at the end of the conflict. The victorious Household would gain weapons and treasures and servants, and also the first choice of all the best soldiers in the cage. One thing I knew about Edrius was that he was sexually enthusiastic. He enjoyed coupling as often as he could and was called frequently by several of the Ladies in the Household, but when they had other distractions, he sought the company of his fellow soldiers. And he attracted as many as would indulge him. He was a popular man in the barracks for that, as much as for his lively, friendly nature.

  I glanced around at the fighting that still raged. It was late in the afternoon by now, and many of the fiercest skirmishes had ended. I’d been drawn into a particularly ferocious fight in the early hours of the day, when the Guard was fresh and the loyal fervor was high on all sides. The crowd had enjoyed the spectacle of over fifty soldiers in a pitched conflict for the first level. It would have been a magnificent sight, though I was in the thick of the fighting, and struggling to protect myself and the security of my Guard. But I knew how the men would look to the civilian crowd in the stands. The strength and glory of armored soldiers in full battle dress was truly awe-inspiring: the glint of helmets, the colorful badges, the hungry shine of swords that many city dwellers only saw during tame ceremonies and certainly never drawn against them or their enemies. We took that platform swiftly, defeating several challengers, but many others didn’t. The first level was always the hardest, when all Guards were at their most aggressive and hadn’t lost any men. At that stage, most of the sisters either withdrew their challenge through lack of support, or were defeated easily and persuaded to surrender.

  There had been nine sisters at the start of the battle, vying for the position of new Queen. All sisters of adult and near-adult age were required to take part, as long as they had some soldiers who’d fight for them, even if they were very young. I couldn’t help but remember the Exile woman, Eila, forced to take part in the last battle for Queenship. Only twelve years old at the time and, not surprisingly, defeated in the very early stages, then taking flight from the city to avoid being murdered by her victorious sister. I’d never shared this knowledge with anyone, let alone Seleste, who’d always promised mercy and tender protection to any and all of her defeated siblings. Maybe after today’s battle, all the sisters would settle peacefully to serve their conqueror, no longer posing any kind of a threat. Whatever the result, I didn’t have time to spend on such thoughts now. After our first round, only four major Guards had shown themselves fit to fight for the final victory of their Mistress. The battle continued among these men.

  At this time of day, however, few participants had the energy and appetite left to fight at that early pace. I was very proud to see most of my Guard still active. Their faces were smeared with dirt and sweat and some blood too, but it was never the prime intention of this event to kill, only to win. A ceremonial occasion, though no less fierce for that, and it wasn’t uncommon for men to die on both the winning and losing side. I hadn’t lost any soldiers to death today, though I’d lost a few of my Silvers to the cage. But when we won the battle, they’d be released and returned to my Mistress.

  When we won…. I’d never considered any other outcome from the battle for Queenship. My Mistress Seleste would win and be crowned Queen, and the old Queen—her mother—would retire swiftly and peacefully to a retreat in the Household of Devotions. Seleste’s defeated sisters would enter her service as Ladies, with whatever official position she might grant them, and the whole of the Royal Household would become hers to command. That had been Seleste’s objective since she grew into puberty, since she tasted the power of being titled Queen-Elect, since she took me from my previous Household and Mistress, and demanded I train her Guard to win this battle at all costs. Seleste was single-minded and aggressive to the point of matching her own Guard. She was beautiful and terrible and arrogant and disgracefully selfish.

  She was a true Mistress, and she was my Mistress.

  A couple of my men ran across in front of me, looking for orders, and I directed them toward the top of the Horse. My Guard had started their assault at daybreak on the north side. At the same time, our defensive force took up position on the south face, and sought to hold back attacks on that side of the Horse. With this combined approach, the idea was to divide and conquer our opponents. This had been successful in previous battles, for I’d studied the strategy, and it worked well again for us today. Our defense held back the attacks from the stronger Guards, and my attack cut through the weaker defenders. We worked together—the attacking and the defending force—and moved together, gradually climbing up each platform to the top. It was a risky strategy, trying to cover two sides of the Horse at once, but one we’d trained in. The critical objective was to move in tandem, as the number of challengers reduced each time. It would take hours—it had taken hours—but eventually there’d be just one remaining Guard. When they reached the top, they would be declared the winners and their Mistress crowned as the new Queen.

  Edrius had confirmed the remaining sisters had left the battle, leaving only Flora. I assessed the number of enemy soldiers still fighting, for Flora’s Guard and our own had been well matched at the start, but she had suffered more casualties. The combat continued around me, but everyone knew we were in the final stages. I glanced at the stands of the arena. The stone steps were filled with rows of people, a sea of white faces with nothing but blurred red spots for features. Wave upon wave of pale ceremonial clothing from the city dwellers, dyed with clumsy decoration or draped with garlands they’d made from waste cloth and animal fur. All of this was broken up with the brighter garments of the Ladies and their assistants. Occasionally a row of spectators would rise up and cheer, their flags fluttering in the sparse breeze of the hot day, but overall they were quieter than before. This was partly because of the heat and the weariness of the long day, for many of the spectators had arrived long before daybreak to find the best seats, but also because of the atmosphere of
increasing tension. The battle was drawing to its close, and we all knew some of the fiercest fighting might burst out again in the dying moments.

  I looked up toward the top of the Battle Horse. We were on the last platform before the dais. I saw Zander with his back to the flight of steps leading to the top, in charge of our defense. His helmet bore a favor from the Queen-Elect herself, Seleste’s own scarf, fluttering raggedly but brightly in the sunshine. He knew he was her best and favorite Gold Warrior. He was very skilled and extremely aggressive, but he fought so very fiercely and in so tightly controlled a manner, I worried his lack of imagination would compromise him if he faced anything unfamiliar. A few months back, I’d reported my concern to my Mistress. Seleste had tilted her beautiful head to one side, smiled her thanks, and said she would give it her full attention. It was immediately obvious to me she had no intention of changing anything. She liked Zander as he was, and would keep him so. He was often in her bed, and very proud of it.

  I was often there too, but less proud.

  There was a cry to my left and a group of men passed me, knocking me back against the metal struts of the wall. I saw Edrius pushing forward with Linar and Raneld, other men I admired, cleaving through a cluster of Flora’s men. Sunlight glinted on men’s badges, the purple enameling of my Mistress’s Household and the dark green of her sister Flora’s. I heard cries of fury and grunts of pain. The hot air shimmered with the dust and the song of swords. I had many good Silvers in the battle, moving with confidence and purpose, and my heart swelled at the sight of them forging ahead. There was an unusual ferocity in their combat today, a strength and wildness that startled even me, who knew their capacity well. They fought as if possessed, but there was also firm discipline to their attacks. They would win. I knew that without a doubt. For a moment I remembered the pride I’d felt as a newly promoted Gold Warrior in the Household of the Exchequer, when I’d been given my very first group of Silver Captains to train and lead. And Bronzemen too, the raw new recruits who needed so much attention yet showed so much promise at the beginning of their lives of service. Each year they arrived in the Household just out of their boyhood, scared and flushed with devotion, full of eagerness and strength and naivety….

  “Maen!” Zander’s voice, loud and urgent, rang out over the sounds of battle.

  I didn’t need his warning, though it was well judged. A soldier from Flora’s Guard had broken away from the throng and approached me from behind. I don’t know how I heard him over the clamor, but the hairs rose on the back of my neck and I knew he was there, even before he’d had time to swing his sword. I spun around and struck, my aim blind but true. The soldier was a Gold Warrior and one whom I recognized. Maybe I’d seen him at a domestic tournament or on the Royal Household training ground where Mistress Flora would prepare her Guard for exhibitions elsewhere in the city. Wherever and whenever it was, I knew enough of his style to anticipate his defense. I thrust straight through it, the force of my strike spinning his body back and the glinting edge of my blade slicing smoothly through the flesh of his upper arm. He cried out. Blood welled suddenly and richly from the wound, and his sword fell to the ground. Edrius and Raneld were on him immediately, one with a sword to his throat, the other forcing him down to his knees, blade to his badge.

  I did nothing more than nod to them, pleased with the result. I started to turn around to find out where I was needed next.

  The sudden sound from the crowd startled me, because it was extraordinary. Spectators rose from their seats in blocks and their voices swelled tenfold. It was a cry of relief and delight and exhilarated triumph. For a moment I was confused, and then I realized they could see the whole Horse. A few of Flora’s soldiers still stood, but now they dropped to their knees and bowed their heads, acknowledging our victory. Zander leaped up to the top of the Horse and raised his sword high. The Guard around him followed with a loud cheer.

  “Seleste!” came the cry, and I heard it reverberate around the arena. “Hail to Mistress Seleste! Hail to the Queen!”

  Edrius turned to face me, his face sweat streaked but glowing with delight. “Flora’s finished! She’s surrendered too. We’ve won!”

  “The Mistress has won,” I answered, but there was no anger to my automatic rebuke, I was smiling with him. “Let’s get our men back down to the ground.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  A CONFUSION of soldiers and chattering servants obscured the mouth of the arena as I tried to get my Guard back into some semblance of order. We were all crammed into the holding area, an enclosure abutting the main entrance and maintained for the combatants alone. We’d prepared ourselves there before the battle, and now tried, afterward, to recover ourselves in the same place. Surrounded by high wooden walls and a roof, it was relatively dark after the bright vibrancy of the arena, but it was cool too. At the far wall was the open entrance to the cage and the defeated soldiers. They were surprisingly quiet, but then, they knew the rules of the battle, and the fighting had exhausted most of us.

  I was hoping for only a few serious injuries. Medical servants milled around, with others to take our arms and helmets, and some to bring food or water if needed. Also, many people from the crowd had left their seats at the end of the battle and rushed down to celebrate on the floor of the arena. It was forbidden for them to mix with the Guard, but none of us had much energy to fight off the enthusiastic greetings of support and praise, and my men deserved the adulation. And of course, none of us would dream of refusing attention to any of the Ladies, who’d come to the edge of the railings, blushing and calling down into the holding area to those they thought had fought particularly well.

  I worked my way through the mass of soldiers, giving and accepting slaps on the back, also tired smiles and nods of acknowledgement.

  Something moved suddenly and brightly at the corner of my vision.

  I whirled around, barely believing what I’d seen. In among the dull-colored, sweaty, bloodstained remnants of men’s clothes, had been the sudden blaze of color from a gaudy silk gown and the sweet scent of perfume that was in the sole possession of the Royal Ladies themselves—

  “Mistress!” Zander shoved past me, his angry gaze in the same direction. I had no time to argue with his disrespectful behavior because I saw the problem as clearly as he did. There were women in the soldiers’ enclosure—and not just women, but Ladies, and Royal Mistresses at that!

  My soldiers peeled apart, crying out, allowing me a clearer view. In their midst was their own Mistress, Seleste, her arm around the throat of another woman whom I recognized as her sister Flora. Flora had drawn a dagger, its short blade like a cruel jewel sparkling in the rays of light seeping in from the arena. The noises around us suddenly stilled, the atmosphere snapping tight with shock. The only movements were the dusty, stumbling steps of the two struggling women.

  Zander darted forward, and I was at his heels, but we were both too slow. Flora’s thin white arm pushed Seleste’s grip away, and she thrust down swiftly with her weapon. I saw her expression most clearly; it was grim. Her dark hair was in disarray around her ceremonial headband, and her pupils unnaturally dilated. Seleste cried out, sounding more furious than hurt, but the dagger had cut through the silk at her hip. As I watched in horror, blood began to seep through the fabric. She stepped back, startled, releasing her hold on Flora. I lifted a hand in warning, but the soldiers around the women were still in shock and too in awe of a Royal Lady to think of taking hold of her. Flora looked over, just once, toward the cage where a group of wide-eyed scribes had temporarily abandoned their cataloguing of the surrendered soldiers. Then, with a few quick steps, she darted back through the crowd of men into the arena and passed from our sight.

  Seleste coughed, once, and her face was very pale. Slowly, she sank to her knees on the sanded floor.

  Noise suddenly rose around me again, a horrified, angry swell.

  “Mistress?” I dropped to my knees beside her, amazed and infuriated both from fear for her safet
y and astonishment at her foolhardiness. If the new Queen had been seriously injured, I had no idea what’d become of the city.

  “The woman’s mad,” she gasped. “I tried to hold her here for her own safety. To keep her by me in the Household….”

  Zander fell heavily to his knees beside me. His eyes fixed on Seleste’s face and they were hot with his terror and devotion. “I have called your Ladies, Mistress,” he said hoarsely. “You mustn’t move. The carriage will be here in a moment to take you to the House of Physic, to see to your wound.”

  Seleste’s eyes narrowed with displeasure at the fuss, but he didn’t see it.

  “The Mistress will be fine,” I said to him. “Luckily the cut didn’t go deep. I’ll send the Guard after Mistress Flora to bring her back to the Royal Household—”

  “You will not,” he growled back, his angry eyes now on me. I was startled by the strength of hostility I saw there. “They’re not yours to command.”

  I was speechless for a moment. I’d just taken them to victory in the Arena; I’d fought alongside them. Edrius was one of the younger Captains clustered protectively around us, and his dark eyes stared at me in shock and surprise. I stood up slowly. “I understand that—”

  “You are no longer a Gold Warrior.” Zander was on his feet too, in seconds. We were a match for height and size. He kept his voice steady but with an effort, it seemed. “Not now, and not before you came to this Household. The Mistress only tolerated you for the purposes of preparing for this battle.”

  “As you have?” I snapped back. His men had benefited from my experience and my tactics, and we both knew that.

  Zander drew in a sharp breath. He’d thrown off his helmet, exposing his blond hair darkened with sweat and dirt from the battle. His face was flushed, and his handsome, arrogant features were twisted with strong emotion; he balanced his hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. “As I have, you’re right. But that’s over now, isn’t it? You’re nothing, Maen. You have no position, no credibility, and no soldiers’ loyalty. Your own deeds robbed you of them all, and you know it.”