by Hugo Huesca
A hand then grabbed Ed’s shoulder and, as unavoidable as an avalanche, separated him from Ryan, who looked up, terrified and relieved at the same time. “I’m afraid that is not going to happen,” Lady Vaines said, towering above Ed.
Alder relaxed on the sofa and munched on an exotic piece of Plekthian cheese from a tray. Lord Molmeda’s companion, a half-succubus, sat next to him, with Maser and Redwood’s half-incubus companion on the opposite sofa and Lord Sanguine’s companion watching them bored from the remaining chair.
“So there I was, the wraith this close to my face, right?”
“Right,” said Strix.
“Everything seems lost, Ed and Katalyn can barely move, half of our kaftar are dead. So I tell myself, Alder, it’s up to you now, time to step up.”
“Right.”
“So I grab a holy water flask from my basket and—” Alder saw Strix wince and realized holy water was probably harmful to a half-succubus. Whoops. Alright, Alder, let’s change the topic fast. Maybe I can try a compliment? Back in Elaitra, Apprentice Jonnu, who had a girlfriend in Birden Island, insisted that the ladies loved a good creative compliment. Although no other apprentice had ever been to Birden, Jonnu had to know what he was talking about. And luckily for Alder, he had taken the optional “creative complimenting” course, so he was sure he could manage.
“Have I told you your voice is like finding a glistening lake while lost in the desert?” he asked, congratulating himself for his quick wit.
“Excuse me?” Strix raised an indignant eyebrow.
“Ah… it’s a compliment. You have a pretty voice.”
“Oh. Yes, people tell me that a lot. I could’ve been a singer, you know.” She shrugged her pearl-colored shoulders. “But working for House Molmeda has better perks, I think.”
Alder nodded, desperately wracking his brain for a conversation topic. Anything would be better than the “Do you come here often?” he had tried with one of the servant girls.
Man was that awkward, he recalled.
Maser said something to the half-incubus and both laughed. It seemed like pretty much a done deal. Alder looked at them in jealousy.
He wasn’t just trying to invoke the sacred Bardic art of seduction for nothing. After Ed had utterly failed at staying out of trouble by almost having Lord Vandran lynched on the spot, Alder had figured out that Regent Vorgothas and his Dungeon Lords would likely be the Haunt’s enemies during the Endeavor, so it was best to get Strix talking about Lord Molmeda as soon as possible.
If only he could find a way to bring his Charm to bear! Perhaps I should recite her a poem? That sometimes works in Lavy’s romances. What would Apprentice Jonnu do?
Alder was in the middle of choosing between “A Dream of Ullira” and “Beautiful Rose of Galemoor” when a commotion from the other side of the hall caught Strix’s attention. Alder cursed. What was it this time?
Lord Sanguine’s companion looked over his shoulder and smiled mischievously. “Master Redal, it seems your Dungeon Lord has found himself into trouble once more.”
Alder frowned. Ed again? But he had already gotten into trouble once already! “Thank you, Master Malikar.” He turned to Strix. “I’ll be back, beautiful Strix.”
He hoped that Strix’s eye-roll had been due to a speck of dust and sauntered off.
“See you around, Alder,” Malikar said casually as the Bard left.
This time, the crowd had gathered around a pillar, and the gathering of people was much bigger than last time with Sanguine. Almost everyone was there, but Alder couldn’t see Ed or his opponent. The crowd was silent, though, so as he approached he could hear Ed’s voice:
“And I’m afraid I must insist. This man is here by mistake. He was tricked by Kharon into agreeing to a terrible fate. His place is not among us, but back on his own world.”
Alder had no idea who the other person was, but they sure had balls to face Ed after Sanguine. The Bard was already structuring the stanzas of his retelling of the encounter, composed from the eye-witness accounts, since he hadn’t been around himself.
“Back on your world, you mean. Aren’t you the Summoned Dungeon Lord?” asked Lady Vaines, and Alder forgot all about his stanzas.
“Oh, no,” Alder whispered.
“Whatever. Ryan—the man you call Argent—is of no use to you. Let him go,” Ed was saying as Alder managed to slither through the crowd. The Bard’s ear hadn’t tricked him; Ed and Lady Vaines stood only centimeters away from each other. Their Evil Eyes were calm so far, but that could change at any moment.
“He has gone mad,” someone said next to Alder. It was Lady Xorander, who was trying to look as inconspicuous as possible. “Challenging Vaines like that. Has he been drinking? He’ll ruin us!”
“No,” Vaines said. “Even if I didn’t care about Kharon’s wishes, Argent is useful. He stays.” Her tone was neutral, but there was a glint in her eye that only Alder’s empathy talents could have possibly picked up. She was enjoying this. Lady Vaines reveled in conflict.
No, not exactly, Alder corrected himself. She loves winning.
“I’ll exchange the Scrambling Towers’ design for him,” Ed said.
“Wait, what about what I think?” Argent asked.
“Shut up,” both Dungeon Lords said. Argent did.
Vaines offered Ed only the faintest hint of a grin. “You’ll give me the designs during the Endeavor anyway, so I don’t kill you on the spot. Exchanging them tonight is a terrible move, Lord Wright. It would leave you with no leverage afterward. I had come to expect better of you. Still, I will let that mistake pass. I don’t need the designs now, and I’m sure to get them later. Argent remains with me.”
Alder could almost hear the way Ed clenched his teeth. Are you out of your mind? Alder wanted to scream.
“Unless…” she went on, “you are going to try to do something about it?” There was no threat at all in her question—Vaines wanted Ed to break her truce. Alder’s empathy flooded his mind with her emotions. Vaines wanted a good fight more than anything else at this stupid dinner, and Ed seemed willing to have a go.
The Lord of the Haunt faced her, immobile like a statue, Evil Eye flickering between fear and sheer determination.
“Duel him,” someone said from the crowd. It was Lord Sanguine, his smile glimmering with malice. People parted to let him speak. “My Lady Vaines, Lord Wraith has acted like a batblin at a gala this entire time. He has done nothing but cause trouble. I swear, the man thinks he can order us around, like some sort of Dungeon King! Not only has he kept the Towers for himself, now he apparently believes Kharon’s Chosen is his to command! This petulant child needs to be taught a lesson, and surely Lady Vaines is the most appropriate teacher. Let us see if the Starevosi Insurgent is as good as his sycophants claim.”
The crowd shivered with enthusiasm. Of course they were so easily manipulated. They wanted a spectacle. If he accepted, Ed would be the night’s entertainment, and after the servants dragged his mangled body away, it would be the week’s gossip.
And even if there was no possible way he could win, everyone there had heard how Lord Wraith had survived and thrived in accursed Starevos where not even Kael Arpadel had triumphed. The understated thought running through the spectators was the same. What if? Even Vaines was feeling it: a sort of vibrant expectancy that reached Alder like thunder through a lightning rod.
Everyone wanted this fight.
“Don’t try to manipulate me, Lord Vandran,” Vaines told Sanguine. “No one has forgotten that you’re only alive because of Molmeda’s interference.” Then she flashed Ed a grin. Her teeth were yellowed and several had been replaced by gold replicas. “But even a snake can hiss the truth once in a while, by accident. It’s clear you’ve spent far too much time alone in Starevos, Dungeon Lord Wright. You do not know our customs, and you do not respect our traditions. Might makes right among the Lordship. You need to be taught this lesson. So if you want to take Argent with you, then let us duel.”
Ed stood there like a statue as the crowd seemed to hold their breaths in unison.
“We need to get him out of here,” Xorander said. “After he declines, Ed needs to leave immediately. We’ll look bad enough already with Sanguine calling him a coward for him to linger. I’ll tell Maser to get the carriages—”
“If you think he’s about to say no,” Alder told her with dismay, “then you don’t know that crazy asshole.”
Just for an instant, Ed and Vaines could’ve been cousins. There were years and lifetimes of difference between them, but both shared the same expression.
“Then we duel,” Ed said quietly.
Through the jeers and whistles of the crowd, Xorander cursed in old Lotian, which sounded somewhat close to, “May the Light eat my backyard.” Alder mirrored the sentiment, although he probably translated the last part wrong.
Vaines cocked her head slightly, as if she hadn’t actually expected that response. She raised a finger to one of the servants by the walls and he hurried upstairs. “We shall fight outside in the gardens, Lord Wright. Elect your second so they may inspect our weapons.” She turned to the Ember Lord, the one with 2000 experience points. “Lord Virion shall be mine.”
“Always, my Lady,” said Virion smoothly, like the living embodiment of a gentleman in Alder’s tales.
Alder took a deep breath. He had no idea how to be anyone’s second. Hopefully he didn’t actually have to fight, because there was no way he could even handle Virion, much less Vaines.
Besides, it would look bad if the other Dungeon Lords saw how the knees of Ed’s second trembled when the duel began.
The Bard took a deep breath. Viorica and the seamstress are going to kill me if I ruin our suits, he thought nervously.
Ed looked thoughtful. “Lord Steros,” he said.
“Hey!” Alder exclaimed. “I’m right here!”
Steros, who appeared among the crowd as if summoned, seemed just as indignant. “Me?”
“One moment,” Ed told Vaines apologetically. He headed Alder’s way and gestured at Steros to approach.
Alder met him halfway, feeling for the first time as if he were surrounded by wolves. It was easy to forget how dangerous Dungeon Lords were when they were dressed like pompous rich assholes, but that was only a mask. Their true nature shone through now that blood was in the water.
“Ed, what in the wetlands are you thinking?” Alder asked. “Why do you care so much about Argent? Just let Vaines have him! And not picking me as your second! I’ve gotta say, I’m very offended right now.”
“You presume too much about our budding alliance,” Lord Steros was saying at about the same time as Alder. “A second must be a trusted friend. If you chose me to flatter me, know that you’ve achieved the opposite.”
“You’re making me look terrible,” Xorander was saying as well.
Ed raised his hands. “One at the time! Alder—I mean—Redal. ‘Argent’ is Ryan. He’s just an asshole from Earth. Kharon is going to get him killed, and not even Ryan deserves that. We have to get him out of here, understand?”
“Fighting Vaines is not going to achieve that!” Alder exclaimed.
“I know. You will. I’m counting on you.”
“Oh,” Alder said… then, after realization dawned on him, “Oh, no.”
Ed turned to Xorander. “You will probably land on your feet even if this goes sour, so don’t worry that much.” Then to Steros. “Lord Steros, I’m not asking you out of friendship. I have a scheme in mind, and I need my Bard out of sight for it to work.”
“I see. You should have said so sooner,” Steros said. He then left the circle and announced, “I shall be Lord Wright’s second.”
Alder and Ed stood alone as Xorander left to save her own ass.
“You really have a plan?” Alder said.
“Yes,” Ed said. Alder paled as Ed explained it.
“Do you realize that the most important part of your plan is you distracting Vaines for as long as possible, right?” he asked when Ed was done.
Ed grinned confidently and clapped Alder in the shoulder. “Alder, I got this in the bag. Take as long as you need. As long as that is… between ten seconds and a minute.”
The night was cold, and the grass was wet with dew. It wasn’t too slippery, but Ed made a note to keep it in mind. He carefully walked around the circle surrounded by the crowd, ignoring the whispers and the jests, looking for rocks or any knot in the terrain that could make him stumble at a bad time. He found a couple of pebbles and tossed them away. As he did so, he whispered a quick message to Kes, and hoped it would go unnoticed while no one was paying attention to him.
What am I doing? There was no way he could win this fight, and Ryan definitely wasn’t worth the trouble. Ed was risking his political standing with the Lotians and even his own skin for an asshole that had made Lisa’s, Mark’s, and his own life a living hell at Lasershark.
A true Dungeon Lord would’ve laughed in Vaines’ face for having taken such a dead-weight for the Endeavor and not given it further thought.
But if I just leave him, I won’t be able to live with myself, Ed thought. He wasn’t a Dungeon Lord like Vaines. To be fair, he wasn’t sure what kind of Dungeon Lord he was. Most of the time he wasn’t sure if his actions were right or wrong, to the point he had almost stopped wondering. But saving Ryan’s hide had no moral ambiguity. Whatever Kharon’s plan was, Ed had to oppose it. He refused to be the kind of man that walked away from evil just because it happened to someone he didn’t like.
The very reason he had taken up the Mantle had been so he could face the kind of battles that no one else could. To walk away now would be to betray his own principles. Even if he was scared. Even if there was no way he could win.
A few feet away, Lord Steros and Lord Virion discussed the terms of the duel, while Vaines stood expectantly in the middle of the circle.
The servant that Vaines had signaled to in the hall brought over a pair of dueling swords covered by a velvet cape and offered them to the seconds. They examined the weapons inch by inch and even cast a few scrying spells on them, each spell examined by the other second in case of trickery.
“We’re fine with your selection,” Steros told Vaines, who nodded. The seconds brought a sword to each duelist.
Ed handled the blade, familiarizing himself with the weight. It was longer than a short sword, yet slimmer than a longsword. Kes had never trained him for duels, because she considered them a waste of time. Either you were fighting for your life, or you could afford not to fight. Ed agreed, although now he wished she had at least given him a cursory introduction.
He took a few slashes at the air, practiced a stab, a thrust, then a jab, until he was satisfied he knew the reach and the balance. He nodded to Steros.
“The terms of the duel,” said Lord Virion, “are first blood, no spells, and only physical talents allowed—for the safety of the spectators. Are you satisfied with those rules?”
Despite his nerves almost whitening his vision, Ed had to smile. Her terms were the seemingly universal equivalent of “1v1 me noob, one life, no items.”
“I advise you to agree,” Steros told Ed.
“Sure.”
“The conditions are acceptable,” said Steros.
Vaines smiled.
Lord Virion stepped forward to the circle which had been delimited with stakes to keep the crowd away. “Then, by mutual agreement, Lord Edward Wright and Lady Aramis Vaines shall suspend the pact of truce between them for the duration of the duel, with Lord Luras Steros and Lord Victor Virion standing as seconds, and the honorable Lordships serving as witnesses.” He raised a hand aimed at Camcanna and Ullira, the twin moons. “I invoke the name of the Dark god Murmur so he may bless this fight with his unholy glory. May Murmur deliver victory to those who deserve it, and doom to the weak. Lord and Lady, step forth.”
Okay, too late to change my mind now, Ed thought as he and Vaines headed for the center of the circle and V
irion and Steros headed to opposite sides of the stakes. He had to trust Alder would manage his part of the plan without a hitch. Despite Alder’s self-doubt, Ed had seen the Bard pull off the kind of victories only seen in stories. He was brave, creative, and kind. He admired heroism from afar, never thinking the stories of legend could apply to himself, and that was precisely what made him a hero.
Also, he was just damn lucky. If anyone could do it, it was Alder.
Ed just had to buy him enough time.
He and Vaines touched blades, and the ring of metal had the gravity of hundreds of years of tradition behind it. The crowd disappeared. There were no sounds but his own breathing, and the rustle of the grass under Vaines’ feet.
“Combatants, on your guard!” someone said from what sounded like far away. Ed and Vaines stepped away from each other. Ed shifted his weight, raised his arms, and entered the Cardinal Command’s basic defensive stance, with the tip of his sword aimed at Vaines’ neck. He grasped the handle as firmly as he could and clenched his jaw. “Combatants… begin!”
Vaines was in front of him, moving through his improved reflexes as if they didn’t exist. Her sword was a flash of gray, like a ripple in the wind. Before Ed’s brain had time to process what was happening, his body reacted in raw animal panic.
There was a terrible crash of steel against steel. Ed’s feet almost left the ground. He stumbled backward, his wrist numb, his pulse seeming as if his heart wanted to run away from his chest and hide somewhere safer.
Vaines hadn’t moved after her attack, and was instead looking at her sword and frowning. Ed managed to lower his gaze. The stitches in his wounded forearm had opened, and a trickle of blood was wetting his sleeve. Even worse, his blade had turned into a bent, unusable mess. His throat went dry.
“Alder, hurry up!” he whispered urgently.
Argent was flanked by one of Vaines’ ogres and by Lady Redwood on the other side. This is going to be tricky, Alder thought. He needed to wait for his chance, but with Redwood around, who knew if he would have a chance at all?