The Rogue Trilogy

by Elizabeth Carlton

  Shadow walked toward him. “While you and I have been down here talking, Halin is on his way to challenge your cousin to a duel to the death he cannot deny. You could try to stop him, of course, but once a demand for keekidikya is made, it must be fulfilled. Honor demands it, and who is more honorable than your cousin? What is he called again? Rayhan the Chivalrous?”

  The illusionist kneeled before Jaspur. “So what will you do, little ghost? Still think you can change what I have set in motion?”

  It was an invitation to a game that Jaspur didn’t have time to contemplate. He felt the illusionist’s powerful grip disappear and gathered his feet beneath him. Launching into a sprint, he flew up the winding staircase to the upper levels. He didn’t know if he could change anything.

  But he had to try.

  * * * * *

  “Rayhan Mendeley!”

  The name rang over the loud slam of fists as they shoved open the throne room door. Rayhan spun around, his view suddenly blocked as Nadel stepped protectively in front of him.

  King Mekkai sprung to his feet, his fists clenched as he stood before his throne. “General Redwood, what are you doing outside of confinement?”

  “I am demanding justice,” he shouldered aside a guard that tried to intercept him. Picking up his pace, he stormed right by the rahenyan captain and marched up the steps to His Majesty’s dais. “Nadel’s testimony is true. I made an attempt upon the Mendeley’s life. That attempt demands that my title be forfeit, as well as my life.”

  Silence consumed the throne room. Rayhan placed a hand on Nadel’s stiff shoulder, his brow furrowed over his brown eyes as he frowned at the general’s confession. Halin had tried to sway the captain to retract his hand in marriage, but he didn’t know his ultimate intent was to kill him until now.

  “Father,” Elessara stood from her place at the table adjacent to the throne where she and Pip sat waiting to testify. “I know you, and a murderer you are not. Tell me you are not confessing to this... this falsehood.”

  “It is not a falsehood,” Halin looked upon his daughter with great regret. “It is true.” Looking back at his king, he continued. “Your Majesty, you want our people to move forward, but I cannot. Not until the crime upon my wife has been brought to justice.”

  “That was done many years ago when you killed Siren Mendeley,” the king replied sternly.

  “It was not, for when I found Siren he had already killed himself.” The general turned to Rayhan and the captain saw the pain of his father’s transgressions etched into every worn line on his face. “When I found your father, he had stabbed himself with his own blade. He looked upon me, blood dribbling down his lips, and he smiled with gratification. Siren stole from me my wife, and then he took from me the retribution that would have given peace to my soul.”

  Rayhan just stared, unable to find the words for what Halin proclaimed. If what the general said was true, then Halin had the right by honor to demand Siren’s heir pay his dues. He had the right to demand...

  Jaspur stumbled through the open door, his ethereal form catching the corner of Rayhan’s eye just as Halin said three words that could not be taken back.

  “I demand keekidikya.”

  “Keekidikya? A duel to the death?” King Mekkai frowned, and Elessara gasped, her chest squeezing into a despairing clutch that brought her to her knees. Rayhan moved to help her, but Nadel held him in place with a grunt.

  “Either way, my life is forfeit,” Halin said. “Grant me this one peace before I join my wife across the Veil.”

  Jaspur felt like a true ghost then: invisible and helpless. Rayhan’s ears flexed back, his cousin forgotten in the rage of the moment as he was forced into an act of utter tragedy.

  King Mekkai looked upon the captain with sullen, reluctant acceptance. “Captain Mendeley, the wounded party of your father’s actions demands justice. General Redwood has confessed his crimes and his life will be forfeit, as our law demands. However, it is my understanding that Nevahardan law requires you to accept when a man with just cause requests retribution through keekidikya. Can you confirm this to be true?”

  Rayhan’s eyes were upon Elessara, whose watery gaze begged for him to say anything other than what he knew he must. He coughed in attempt to clear his throat, then with great agony stated in a rough voice, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  A great sigh escaped King Mekkai’s lips. His shoulders heavy with regret, he said, “Let us end this now.”

  “Your Majesty!” Elessara’s sobs barely let the plea escape.

  The king nodded to one of his guards, and Elessara was restrained. She crumbled into the guard’s arms, unable to face what her father had demanded, and what the king had granted. He continued his ruling, solidifying the unfortunate event.

  “Have General Redwood and Captain Mendeley escorted to their chambers so they may have time to outfit themselves appropriately. A private duel will be held here in my throne room. May the gods bestow mercy where mercy is due.”

  * * * * *

  Jaspur followed Rayhan to his chamber where the captain began outfitting himself for a fight he never wanted any part in. Inside, his advisors and Pip argued about the thousand consequences that would ripple from the results of this duel.

  “This was General Redwood’s plan all along. It must be. He knows his actions were condemnable by death, and so he is trying to destroy all bridges to peace before his execution,” Terreen tittered frantically. “Oh, this does not bode well for the treaty.”

  “There will be no treaty, Terreen,” Gwan muttered. “Even if Rayhan survives this match, it would be uncouth for Lady Elessara to marry the man who slayed her father, no matter the circumstance. The arrangement has failed.”

  “I’m sorry, but shouldn’t we be more concerned about the captain?” Pip snapped. “He is about to walk into a duel for his life here.”

  Rayhan snatched the breastplate from Pip’s hands and pointed toward the door. “Out! All of you.”

  The captain’s advisors scrambled out the door, but Pip hesitated. “Captain, I—”

  Rayhan tossed the breastplate onto the bed. “You too, Lieutenant.”

  Frowning, Pip walked out and flung the door shut behind him. Only Jaspur remained then. As his cousin stepped out onto the balcony in search of fresh air, Jaspur went and leaned against the rail alongside him, his ethereal form visible only to the captain. Rayhan glanced at him before bowing his head between his shoulders.

  “Tell me there is more to this event in history, Jaycent,” he whispered. “That somehow I evade this impossible trial.”

  Jaspur winced, his eyes upon his boots. “I cannot,” he stated quietly.

  “So this is how my assignment ends? Assuming I live through this duel.”

  “You do.”

  “And Elessara?” The gloom twisted in Rayhan’s forlorn expression was one Jaspur understood all too well. Rayhan would lose more than an alliance this day. A wound would be inflicted upon his heart that would never fully heal.

  Before Jaspur could respond, that wound walked through the door, her eyes red from tears that wouldn’t stop falling. Rayhan went to her, his arms outstretched as she fell sobbing against his chest. Her fingers dug into his chainmail vest, pulling it as the sound of her crying pulled tears from Rayhan’s eyes.

  The captain stroked her hair, his own sorrow soaking the side of her neck as he whispered a thousand apologies.

  “Tell me your honor is not bound by law,” she whispered. “Tell me you’ll refuse this stupid duel.”

  Rayhan held her tight, unable to dislodge the guilt that balled inside his throat. “I wish it were possible,” he pulled away, his eyes no dryer than her own. “But this is not a choice.”

  Elessara pulled away, her body trembling. “You could lay down your sword.” Fists clenched around his mail, she shook him in a fit of desperation. “Please! You must refuse.”

  “And let your father take my life? Aye, I could...” Rayhan gently took her by the arms. “And i
n retaliation, King Donovan would call for war. Thousands more would die alongside me and your father, whose life is already forfeit whether I fight him or not.”

  Elessara shook her head in denial, unable to fathom the mess Halin had created. “I cannot watch you do this.”

  “I beg you not to.” Rayhan sat upon the bed and cradled Elessara in his arms. They rocked back and forth, a love so deep between them and yet so far from understood. Together, they mourned the future Tennakawa had shown them but would never unfold thanks to Halin’s choice.

  A choice heavily influenced by Shadow, but only Jaspur knew that.

  “This is as far from justice as one can stray,” the captain murmured.

  “I love you, Rayhan Mendeley,” Elessara whispered.

  The jaw of the strongest man Jaspur knew quivered at those words. “My heart is yours, Sara. It always will be.”

  “But I don’t know if I have it in me to forgive this,” she confessed.

  Rayhan pressed his forehead against hers, his tears trailing down his cheek to join with her own. “I will never ask you to.”

  Elessara flung her arms around Rayhan’s neck, her wet cheeks buried against his shoulder.

  Jaspur watched his cousin hold a future now denied against his chest. This was history as it unfolded. He had done nothing to change it, and in his heart he knew he was never meant to.

  Rayhan had sworn his life to an oath of chivalry. It was a code that was supposed to make honorable heroes out of rahenyan men, but now it would do the opposite. This duel would rob both kingdoms of an alliance and steal from him the first woman he had ever loved.

  “Tennakawa’s breath,” Jaspur’s heart stopped, for it was a dilemma so similar to the one he had faced when Nevaharday fell, except for one stark difference.

  Rayhan would prevail where Jaspur had not.

  * * * * *

  Rayhan stood before the general of Whitewood’s forces dressed in the finest rahenyan armor. It was made of leather and certainly not as impenetrable as the shimmering metal on the blonde elf before him, but the captain preferred it. It made him quicker.

  He would need that speed to get through this wretched duel. Eyes fell upon them from all directions: King Mekkai; Nadel; Terreen; Gwan; Pip; Jaspur; Elessara. A private duel was never private. It was simply restricted to the people who had something to lose. A heaviness swelled until it pressed against the throne room’s high ceilings, its presence so heavy, it made Rayhan sweat. The gasps of Elessara’s unyielding sobs shot like arrows into the captain’s heart.

  He stared at Halin, so composed and solemn in front of him, as they waited for the king’s call to begin. He clenched the hilt of his longsword that was tucked inside the scabbard strapped to his back. Halin mirrored that movement, his hands poised at the slender elven sword on his hip.

  “Here you both fight before the gods in a duel to the death,” King Mekkai stated in a solemn voice. “A duel demanded in the name of justice for the life of Saradel Redwood, taken by Siren Mendeley. I wash my hands clean of this duel, and in the witness of nobility from both parties, I declare this a voluntary act for which Whitewood holds no responsibility. Those who have heard and understand this grave act for what it is, say ‘Aye’.”

  “Aye,” the room replied in a disheartened tone. King Mekkai may have washed his hands clean of this act, but everyone present knew its results would demand justice from common citizens on either side.

  “Let it begin,” the king commanded.

  Halin wasted no time. He drew his sword and lunged toward Rayhan like a wolverine. The captain yanked his longsword from the scabbard on his back and side-stepped left, pivoting on his right foot as he came around in a swift strike toward Halin’s back.

  But the elf moved with incredible speed, even while wearing heavy armor. By the time Rayhan’s sword would have met its mark, Halin had turned and batted his opponent’s weapon high, breaking outside of the rahee’s reach.

  There was a pause. It lasted no longer than a breath as the two soldiers with strong instincts tried to gauge what would come next. Their following moves were executed at the exact same time, their swords clashing once, twice, thrice, then four times in a flurry of moves that held a fatal force behind every strike. One wrong move from either one would have ended the fight.

  It was like this for several agonizing minutes. Rayhan was an excellent swordsman, but his experience paled against the centuries Halin had on him. Several times, he misstepped only to duck or dive in a correction that, had he acted a split second later, would have resulted in more than a shallow cut.

  Halin came in with a straight stab that had Rayhan swinging in a hard right just to deflect. He knew as soon as he made the move that it had only been a distraction. Halin charged forward with his shoulder straight into the captain’s chest. Rayhan’s sword slipped from his hands and he fell onto his side, the air knocked from his lungs.

  Halin flipped his hilt and dropped to his knees, his sword coming down for the killing blow. Rayhan flung his weight left. The sword snagged his side, piercing through flesh with mortifying ease.

  The captain cried out, seething through the pain, but he clung to his wits long enough to land a right hook against Halin’s cheek. The general landed on top of him, his sword hand losing its grip just a bit.

  It gave Rayhan enough time to jerk the blade from his side. He threw it out of reach, then turned back to his enemy only to feel a hard fist slam into his nose. A second came down against his eye, then another on his chin before Rayhan managed to bring an arm up to block. He wrapped his legs around the elf's waist, constricting like a python, when Halin produced a dagger from a hidden sheath in the back of his belt.

  Rayhan grabbed the wrist that held the glinting blade, his arms shaking in a match of strength. Shouts and cries rose up around them, but Rayhan couldn’t tell what they were saying. All he could see was the feral look on Halin’s face as the dagger dropped an inch closer to its mark. Halin punched out again with his free hand, dazing the captain. His grip faltered and Halin came down with the dagger, its tip aimed for Rayhan’s face.

  The captain tilted his head and winced as the dagger bit into his cheek. Grabbing Rayhan by the tunic on his chest, Halin held the captain in place as he went to stab again. Rayhan used his forearm to deflect Halin’s strike, throwing the elf off balance. He then threw his weight right, bringing Halin to the floor.

  “Call it, General,” he grunted. “I beg of you. For your daughter's sake, let us break this duel! It is a private fight. I can request your sentencing be revoked. No one here will argue, and our encounter will never be spoken of.”

  “Grahh!” Halin roared as he came in, predictably, with the dagger. Rayhan grabbed his wrist again and with a harsh twist, freed the blade. It clattered against the floor, cutting the elf’s ear as it bounced.

  The captain slugged Halin hard with his right fist, then followed with a sharp elbow to Halin's temple. It was a fluke strike. One that was meant to buy Rayhan time.

  The general went limp and Rayhan swatted the dagger out of the elf's reach before he scrambled away, then back onto his feet. He stared expectantly at the body, his chest heaving with adrenaline.

  Halin didn’t move.

  Nadel stepped in, shouting for Rayhan to back up as he came to the general’s side. He began to check Halin’s vitals while Elessara’s deep-rooted wail filled the captain’s ears. Nadel’s evaluation lasted only a minute, but it was the longest of Rayhan’s life.

  Finally, the elven guard turned to His Majesty and ever so subtly shook his head.

  “Nadel, have one of your men send for a healer,” King Mekkai ordered. “And have another escort Lady Elessara back to her quarters.”

  “No,” Elessara shook her head. She ran toward her father’s body, refusing to believe what Nadel had confirmed. Nadel caught her before she made it to Halin’s side, holding her tight while she screamed even louder. “No!”

  Rayhan stumbled back a few steps, his ears fle
xed as he shook his head in overwhelming guilt. He watched Elessara claw at Nadel in attempt to reach her father. In turn, Nadel grabbed her arms, pinning them to her chest as she squirmed and kicked against his grip.

  “Father!” Elessara’s voice was hoarse, her hand extended toward Halin’s still body. The tears she thought had ended now came flooding back with newfound fervor.

  Rayhan stared in silence. He hadn't wanted to kill Halin. Everyone present knew that to be the truth. But the general was dead, and with him the future Rayhan and Elessara had worked so hard to gain. Nadel dragged Elessara away from the body, and the captain felt tears of his own rise warm and unbidden as she fought the elf every step of the way. She didn’t look his direction. Elessara didn’t even seem to notice him.

  Rayhan’s face scrunched into a grimace, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. With one fist clenched against the wound on his side, he limped toward King Mekkai’s dais.

  Jaspur watched from his obscure place in the corner and wondered what would follow. With knuckles bloody and raw, Rayhan walked, the wound from Halin’s sword soaking his tunic and armor. The gash in his side made standing upright sheer agony, but he managed it before the elven king.

  “Your Majesty,” his voice was solemn, his face distorted in a pain that extended beyond his physical wounds. “I have done as the law commands, and as General Redwood willed. I—” he paused to take a shuddering breath. “This is not what I desired, and it is not what I would call justice.”

  Terreen and Gwan stood with their breaths held, awaiting King Mekkai’s reaction.

  Jaspur crossed his arms, a disappointed smirk on his face as he watched. The rogue had seen the look on King Mekkai's face before. His father used to wear the same expression right before he had to make a decision he didn’t agree with. “I understand, Captain Mendeley. I, too, find myself at a difficult cross between what I believe and what the law commands.”