“You raise a valid point,” she responded with a thoughtful frown. “But we have many officers of my army here, and surely I can find someone suitable.” She looked to her left, slowly panning the room as if searching for someone.
Darius wasn’t fooled in the slightest. She already had someone in mind.
“My Queen,” a tall man with thinning black hair stood and gave her a deep bow. “If I may?”
“You have leave to speak, Raj Kurush.” Uh-oh. Judging by that hint of satisfaction in her face, Kurush had just fallen into a trap. Darius darted a look at the man. Lean, with a hawkish nose and immaculate dress. Looking at him, the term empty sack came to mind. Was this man the main contender for having Darius removed? If not, he certainly played some part in it, judging by Tresea’s expression. Although, Kurush himself didn’t seem to be aware of walking into a trap. He seemed…rather too eager, actually.
“My Queen, I confess that I have always wished to cross swords with General Bresalier. If I may be so bold, would you allow me to challenge him?” Kurush practically oozed sincerity.
Oh yes. The man was neck deep in it somehow. “I have no objections, My Queen.”
Tresea clapped her hands in excitement like a giddy girl would. “Excellent. Then do come forward. Do you think that you can fight here, in between the tables, without endangering anyone?”
He’d fought in tighter quarters than this. He couldn’t speak for Kurush’s skill, though.
“We have sufficient space for a non-serious fight, My Queen,” Kurush assured her confidently.
Hopefully the man had the skill necessary to back up that confidence. Darius didn’t see it from here. Kurush moved in a solid, almost stodgy manner that hinted of technique but no speed. His instincts said this man was not a match for him. As he stood, Amalah caught his arm and gave him a worried look. He winked at her in reassurance. She let go, a forced smile on her face, but clearly she was still worried. Well, she’d see soon enough.
Clear of the padded bench, he turned to Bohme and held out his hand. The bodyguard clearly understood the silent request and slung off Darius’s sword from his shoulder, handing it over without a word. Most of the rajs here were not armed, not even the soldiers, but Darius had never walked around completely bare. If he were in a position where he could not openly carry a sword—such as a formal dinner like this one—then he always had his bodyguard hold it for him.
Kurush had clearly anticipated the fight somehow as well, as his bodyguard had also handed a weapon off to him.
The two men maneuvered their way between the tables and into the open center. It took three long paces to reach the middle, giving them a rectangular space of clear flooring to fight. Darius marked off the dimensions in his head. He would not be able to take more than five steps back in any direction without endangering the people around him.
He slipped the sheath into the belt at his waist before giving a short bow to the queen. Kurush did the same although he made a show of giving her a deeper bow of reverence. She nodded back in acknowledgment. “Begin at any time.”
Darius turned to face his opponent when out of the corner of his eye he saw a swift motion. Instinctively, he sank into a wide stance and unsheathed his sword at lightning speed. Had that fool just—?! Yes, he had! He’d actually unsheathed his sword before ever bowing and then struck out at Darius as quickly as he could. Granted, in war his tactics would not be questioned. On a battlefield, you took down your opponent as quickly and ruthlessly as possible. But here, for a court demonstration?
Years of fighting had honed Darius’s instincts to where he met the first three strikes before his feet could even properly settle into a stance. The clangs of the swords meeting and then sliding free sounded abnormally loud in the stillness of the room. Apparently even the spectators had been caught off-guard by Kurush’s actions.
For a moment, Darius didn’t press the attack and just let Kurush come to him, giving him ample time to evaluate the man’s skill. His impression from before had been right on—the man had had good technique pounded into him, but no real speed or strength. The fact that he could fight this well came about because of a good sword instructor and not from any particular talent or dedication. If he weren’t an officer, someone who didn’t fight on a regular basis, then he’d likely already be dead.
Bored with the match already, Darius stopped defending and started pressing the attack. Since this was not supposed to be serious, he altered the angle of his strikes so that the flat of the blade hit Kurush instead of the sharper edge. Still, the man jumped in alarm when Darius struck Kurush on his arm, thigh, and other arm in quick succession. He’d softened the blows so that they would only bruise instead of breaking bone but the message was clear—if this had been serious, Kurush would already be down.
At that moment, Kurush realized just how outmatched he really was. The fear could be seen in his eyes. He’d gotten up here to show Darius as being inferior—if he failed, the political fallout would not be pretty. Darius had no sympathy for him. The fool had thought that by grabbing a tiger by the tail, he need not worry about the teeth or claws.
Kurush’s swings became wilder, more desperate, as he strove to match Darius’s speed. His desperation made his technique sloppy and even his footwork suffered as he half-stumbled to the side. Darius took a half-step back as well, giving him enough space to recover, not wanting a wild strike to get any closer to the table behind him.
Then Kurush did the unthinkable.
Instead of using the opening Darius gave him to recover his balance, he charged, sword swinging wide in an overhead arc.
Darius watched the flash of steel coming toward him, two thoughts racing through his head. Amalah is sitting directly behind me. If I dodge, she’ll be hit. Panicked, he did the only thing he could think to do—he charged as well, sword up to guard against Kurush’s blade coming down, and hit the man high in the chest, free hand grabbing the man’s chin and pushing up with all of his strength.
Kurush’s balance, already upset, deserted him entirely and he half-flew a foot before coming down hard on the tile. He grunted as his back slammed into the ground, his head making a sick sound as it impacted. Darius didn’t care that he’d just rattled the man’s brains. Lowering his sword, he whirled around, taking a half step toward the table, his eyes frantically searching for some damage done to Amalah. She stared back at him with wide eyes, both hands pressed to her heart.
“Raja Amalah, are you well?” he demanded.
She seemed dazed for a moment before shaking her head in short bursts, her eyes never leaving him. “I am not hurt,” she assured him breathlessly.
It had been a near thing. A second later, and she would have been hurt. Fatally so. He put his heart back in his chest and took a deep breath to sooth his rattled nerves. Only then did he turn to his opponent who still lay sprawled on the floor. He had no idea what his expression looked like just then, but it plunged the room into an icy silence when people saw it. Kurush stared up at him like a man facing the god of death, almost shaking.
“You utter fool,” Darius snarled in a tone that sounded menacing even to his own ears. “You are a soldier of the Niotan Army. Your first duty, always, is the protection of every man, woman, child and beast of this country. The fact that you would put your own pride above a young woman’s life is beyond appalling.”
“I quite agree.” Tresea stood from her seat and walked calmly toward them, her eyes like chips of obsidian. “If not for Darius’s skill, Raja Amalah would quite likely be dead because of your carelessness, Kurush.”
Already shaken, this public rebuke made the man go a sickly grey.
“I think that we have had enough demonstrations for this evening. You are dismissed, Kurush.” Queen Tresea’s tone added And do not try to come back until I have summoned you. Kurush heard the unspoken words and pushed himself clumsily to his feet. Without even trying to collect his sword, he stumbled out of the room.
Turning, she looked at Amalah
, her eyes softening. “I am sorry you were frightened, Raja Amalah. I did not anticipate this course of events.”
Amalah clearly did not like being the center of attention but she managed a smile at her monarch. “Fortunately, My Queen, the General was quick to protect me.”
“This is true.” Tresea gave him a wide smile. Darius did not think that she entirely disapproved of the way things had turned out. It had sent a message to her court far better than she had likely predicted. “We are grateful to you, Darius.”
Playing along, he gave both women a short bow. “Think nothing of it.”
“I cannot do that,” she murmured for his ears only. With that thrice-cursed twinkle in her eyes, she waved him back to his seat. “Let the dinner continue!”
Darius re-sheathed his sword before handing it back to Bohme and returning to his seat. As he sat, he looked at Amalah. She still seemed a little wide-eyed, one hand pressed to her heart. He knew the expression on her face well. “Heart still thumping?” His certainly was.
She swallowed hard before saying, “That was terrifying. I can’t believe you face men like him on a regular basis.”
“It’s a little different when you’re also armed,” he assured her wryly.
“I think I’ll take your word for it.” This time, when she smiled up at him, it seemed more natural.
Darius had this insane urge to put an arm around her and just hold her close for a moment. He couldn’t do that, of course. It would be wildly inappropriate if he did. But it seemed wrong, somehow, to expect her to act like nothing was wrong after being scared out of her wits. On the other hand, he could hardly say or do anything obvious with a roomful of gossiping witnesses.
Or couldn’t he?
The tablecloth draped a good distance over the edge, puddling in their laps. He glanced every direction but no one was paying attention to them now, as they were busy discussing what had happened. It should be safe enough. He carefully reached under the cover of the cloth and lightly gripped her hand.
She started slightly at the contact, eyes flying up to meet his. He saw it clearly then—she was still a little rattled and had put up a good front for his benefit. His grip on her tightened unconsciously, offering a comfort that he knew she needed but would never ask for.
Then, to his surprise, her fingers tightened over his as she whispered on the barest hint of a breath, “Thank you.”
“You know that I would never let any harm befall you,” he whispered back.
She rallied enough to give him a small smile. “If I didn’t before, I do now.” With one last squeeze, she let go and drew her hand back.
Taking her cue, he also withdrew his hand and resumed eating. Politics were expected at court, and power struggles just came with the territory, but Darius swore to himself that if those morons ever put Amalah in danger like that again, they wouldn’t live to see the next sunrise.
Shift to a wide stance, arms outstretched, hold. Darius kept his breathing slow and even as he moved through the forms of the Setting Sun. The sun had already started to beat on the garden and he could feel the heat building. Especially doing this form, the sweat had beaded on his skin long ago and trailed down his temples and back. It felt good, though, compared to the hours he’d spent in his office yesterday going through reports. Stacks of reports. Too many reports that he hadn’t finished going through which meant he had to face the rest of them today.
What kind of peace offering would it take to get Darr to stop torturing him like this?
He shifted slowly into the next form, knee up against his chest, arms up in a guard position. Of course, Sego chose to enter at this moment, with his balance at its most precarious.
“General,” the steward seemed fit to be tied as he stalked into the garden. “What’s this I hear about a martial arts display at the dinner last night?”
Darius gave him an incredulous look. “Good gods, man, breakfast hasn’t even been served yet! Don’t tell me it’s around the palace already.”
“Of course it is,” Sego snapped in exasperation, slamming his cane against the tile in a sharp crack. “The lead general of the country gets into a fight with one of the up and coming commanders of the army—”
Oh. Kurush had been a promising candidate for something? Oops.
“—and in the process of the fight protects a woman from getting seriously injured! Of course the staff is having all sorts of romantic flights of fancy right now. What did you think would happen?”
Obviously he wouldn’t be able to finish this form. Sighing, he relaxed the stance so that both feet were on the ground. “Might I point out that this is not my fault? The queen had this whole thing scripted out before I even entered the room.”
“No, the actual fight was well planned,” Sego denied impatiently. “It’s reaffirmed that you are a capable soldier and know how to fight.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Darius reached for a towel to wipe the worst of the sweat off, moving toward the cooler shade of his rooms.
“The problem is the woman you saved, Amalah Sebresos. There’s all sorts of rumors cropping up because of your actions last night. Especially since you sat next to her during the rest of the night. Her family is not happy that you are now linked to her in rumors.”
Hmm. True, he should have considered what would happen if he stayed next to her. It wouldn’t have changed his behavior any (he didn’t cater to people’s opinions) but he’d have thought to warn Sego so the man didn’t get blindsided like this. “Ahh. How powerful is her family, anyway?”
“Powerful isn’t the right word,” Sego denied in resignation. He apparently realized from Darius’s lack of concern that nothing he said would make much of a dent. “They’re a very old family, tracing their ancestors to one of the very first families to found Niotan. They’ve been granted land several times by the royal family over the generations.”
Interesting. Amalah had never said or done anything to indicate any of that to him. He stopped just inside the doorway and gave Sego a thoughtful frown. “I saved her from getting beheaded,” he pointed out with false mildness. “Surely they’re not that upset.”
Sego rubbed his forehead as if it were paining him. “They’re rumbling. That’s not surprising, considering. But General, I beg of you, stay away from the woman for a while and let these rumors cool off? Especially do not give her any more presents, no matter how lost you get.”
The advice was sensible. But he didn’t want to take it. Instead of promising anything, he slung the towel over his shoulder and headed for his bedroom to get dressed for the day. “I have reports to get through.”
Behind him, Sego let out a growl of frustration and slammed his cane into the ground again.
~~~
Sego didn’t leave it there, of course. He kept hounding him about it, in a sneaky and sideways manner. As the first evening bell rang, Darius gave up and escaped his office for the quiet of the water garden he’d gotten lost in last time. Right now, he needed that stillness and relative seclusion from the rest of the world.
It was either running away or strangling Sego.
Once he reached the garden, he sank onto a bench with the writing tablet he’d taken with him. He had half a mind to write a letter to his family by moonlight but once situated, he couldn’t turn his mind to it. The burbling and trickle of the water in the fountains distracted him, as did the sweet scent of the jasmine trees, and the slightly cool breeze drifting over his skin. The evening seemed to draw him in so that his mind couldn’t focus on anything.
“Tell me, General—”
Amalah? Darius jerked around, head snapping up to see her. She walked slowly along the path toward him, the inevitable book in her hands, a soft smile on her face. Unusually, no one shadowed her footsteps.
“—how is it that we keep meeting here?” she asked with a timber of amusement in her voice.
“Probably because we come for the same reasons,” he responded, setting his letter aside and rising to meet he
r. “This is one of the few places we can retreat to when other people’s demands become too much.”
Her smile became more complex, as if part of her doubted his words. “But you love the company of people. I’ve seen the way you interact with them.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t need to escape now and again.” He gestured for her to join him on the bench, which she did, although at a frustratingly close but just-far-enough distance. “Especially when I’m trying to do something, and I can’t seem to find a moment’s peace to finish it. Today particularly,” he groaned in renewed aggravation. “It seemed like every time I turned around, Sego was pestering me.”
“We were all surprised by how much he’s taken to you.” Amalah set her book aside, shifting so that she faced him more directly. “Before, he seemed very…aloof.”
“Oh, he was like that with me at first,” he assured her. Mouth quirking up at the memory of those early days, he continued wryly, “But I don’t believe in working with people that you can’t be on good terms with. I had enough of that in the Brindisi Army. So one morning, when he came to meet with me, I offered him bread and had him join me.”
Her eyes grew wide, mouth dropping a little. “You shared bread…with a servant?”
“That was his reaction.” Darius chuckled, seeing with his mind’s eye that moment. “But simply having people around as servants is such a cold feeling. It’s much better when they are friends as well.”
“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised since you eat breakfast with your bodyguards. But still, such a relationship is rare here. I am amazed you managed it with him. He’s from a family with a very established tradition of serving in the palace.”
He shrugged in a deliberately casual manner. “It only took about four pieces of bread to get it through his head.”
Startled, she dropped her confusion and laughed softly.
There. That was the smile he had been working for. He wanted to ask why she was here alone. For that matter, he wanted to ask if he’d troubled her and if he needed to intercede with her family on her behalf, but he didn’t want that smile to disappear so he changed to a different topic instead. “Tell me, where are you getting all of these books to read? Every time I see you, you have a different one.”
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