by K Bledsoe
The king glared at the Council Leader but said nothing. He was astute enough to pay attention to Loyoa’s advice, even if he didn’t like it. It was fortunate that the Leader was on his side. If he hadn’t been, the coup might just have succeeded. Another chimed in.
“Also, the duel was a challenge against evidence in the first place. Traditionally, it could be argued that no matter if there is more evidence, the accusation results from the same source, the one who rescued the princess, and so the duel must still be fought.”
“I am beginning to dislike the word ‘tradition,’” grumbled the King.
“Nevertheless, the duel must be allowed to happen. Every precaution will be taken to ensure the princess’s safety.”
“I don’t like the idea of hiding the truth from the people, but I agree that they are shaken and divided enough.” The king felt a wave of sadness at the situation, but he was also determined to take back the control he had let slip away. “The duel will be the distraction and the truth can be shared later when we can say we were successful in stopping a massive coup and measures were put into place that it can never happen again.”
There were nods from nearly all the councilors.
“But what if the prince wins anyway?” asked a very junior member. “Doesn’t that mean he is proved right and all charges are dropped?” He wilted under the glares of the rest of the council, but the king held up a hand to forestall any discussion.
“You are correct to bring that up, Councilor Tam. We will figure out what to do if the time comes. I have faith in justice and my daughter.”
The king knew that the duel was only a face-saving way to preserve the monarchy’s reputation. The prince had used it only to delay the acceptance of Maya as heir in order to instigate his coup. But the unaware public would see it as more important than it really was. In the old days, duels proved a future ruler’s strength and will, and people haven’t lost that basic instinct. A public duel would appeal to the primitive inside them all and sway the populace, the same argument that kept a monarchy on a space-faring planet.
But not everyone knows the details about the tattoos, and those proofs will make sure that the prince, even if he manages to win, will never rule. It would be much more difficult, but I will make certain of that.
***
The day of the duel dawned bright and clear. Lines of people had begun forming outside the arena the day before and now stretched on. Such a spectacle hadn’t been seen by anyone living on the planet. Many businesses were closed and the airports, trains, and any other station with travel had been swamped with people wanting to see it live. Each person was patient with the extensive personal security searches, knowing they would be witness to an historical moment. The rest of the world who weren’t so lucky could view it on any station due to over a hundred cameras already in place.
The Kelton family was not bothering to try to watch in person. They were seated in the lounge on the ship, watching the large screen. Allison had several feeds from news centers but also a private feed from the palace where the action was truly going to take place.
Diarmin, following Lenore’s advice, had counseled the king to not hold the event in a public place, to pipe it in holographically if possible. Fortunately, one of only three venues that could accommodate the holographs was close to the palace. Only people sitting in the first few rows might be able to tell it wasn’t truly live.
The family idly watched various news stories on different broadcasts, but their primary attention was taken up with the feed from the palace. The courtyard had been set up with a ring for the duelists and chairs on the side for the few that were allowed close. If Lenore guessed correctly, the large chair in the center would be for the king. The two chairs at either end would be for the prince and Raahi and their attendants. But there were only four others, two on either side of the large chair. Too few for councilors so it would be interesting who sat in those.
“How soon?” asked Quinn. He looked the most relaxed, and Lenore was concerned at his lack of interest. Allison couldn’t sit still and piped in from her seat at the console.
“They are all still in their rooms. It’s supposed to start in a half hour. The king is talking with his bodyguard, the prince is knocking stuff around, and Raahi is sitting with her eyes closed. There are a few people gathering outside the courtyard who look like councilors and maybe broadcasters, but that’s all I can see.”
“Why haven’t you cut your hack into the palace’s security?” asked Diarmin seconds before Lenore was going to.
“They still don’t have anyone in there and therefore nobody to track me down,” said Allison. “Anyway, if they did, I would know and be off in a nanosecond. I already have a kill command in place.” She sounded smug, and Lenore just shook her head.
“Fine. Keep an eye on it, although if there hasn’t been an intrusion yet there probably won’t be now,” said her father.
Quinn pulled out his personal comp pad and began to fiddle with it. Lenore opened her mouth to say something to him but thought better of it and turned back to the multiple screens. A hand on her knee made her realize she was jiggling it. She smiled at her husband.
“Don’t know why I am nervous. It’s not me dueling.”
“That’s probably why. It is harder to watch someone else do all the action,” he said. Lenore looked sharply at him, knowing he wasn’t only talking about the duel. “And worse when you are unable to help in any way.”
She narrowed her eyes and nodded. “Exactly. I keep thinking the prince is going to find some way to hurt Raahi, er, Maya. Daggers require a closeness that will give him an excuse to grapple and use his strength.”
“There will be doctors. They can treat nearly any kind of dagger wound quickly, even a heart stab.”
“I know, I know,” she said, not mentioning that she knew several ways to kill a person with a knife despite the best medical expertise available. She crossed her arms. “I don’t like being a spectator.”
Diarmin gave a snort and turned his attention back to the screen. At least he seems to have settled. No more twitching at every small suggestion or hint of violence.
“Here they go,” said Allison and there was no more conversation.
Chapter Sixty-eight
Raahi followed behind Jagjit, breathing slowly. Oddly, her stomach was not in knots like she had thought it would be. She knew it was because she was finally doing something, not dependent on technology or other people for her future. This was it. This was for Maya, and she wouldn’t fail. Briefly she wished for that dagger from long ago which had been given to her on her eighth birthday to help with her bodyguard duties toward the princess. But that had disappeared when they were taken.
It won’t be long now, soul sister. This will be all over, and you will be at rest.
Either way.
They entered the courtyard which was set up as an arena. Strange, no audience, only a multitude of equipment and cameras on all sides and a single row of chairs. Jagjit led her to one of two chairs on an end of the oval denoted for the fight, but she was surprised when he didn’t sit in the other.
Raahi let her gaze drift. Jagjit was meeting the king who entered with four others, two men and two women. She recognized one as the Council Leader, but the others were unknown. As the king sat in the largest chair with Jagjit standing behind him, she noticed guards at both entrances to the courtyard. Her gaze continued until her eyes came to rest on the prince and his companion taking their seats directly across.
He looks annoyed. Nervous, arrogant, excited, any of those I would expect but not irritation.
The king stood as everyone sat.
“Before this foolish tradition begins, we have a new attendant for Maya.” He lifted his hand toward the entrance, and Raahi’s heart gave an extra beat when Jonah walked in.
“The Chief Reviewer’s innocence was proven conclusively, and charges dropped. As soon as he returned, he asked for the honor of being Attendant during the duel. Jag
jit will graciously resign his position if Maya agrees.” He faced Raahi. “Is this acceptable?”
Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded and was surprised to feel joy as he came to sit in the chair beside her. Her hand ached to reach out and hold his, to tell him how sorry she was for all he had endured, but she knew now was not the time. She settled for a direct look into his eyes. Dark circles shadowed under them, but the slight curve of his lips and nod of his head reassured her.
She looked back as the Council Leader stood. Time to clear her mind for only the task ahead.
The man looked sad but straightened his shoulders and addressed the equipment as if speaking to an audience. She was glad there wasn’t a crowd. It made it easier to concentrate.
“The rules have been decided on. The bout will be won when a, erm, contestant reaches fifteen points. Points will be awarded according to severity of…” he swallowed, obviously uncomfortable with the idea, “of wound. Touch landed, one point, blood drawn two points, and so on. The judges,” he indicated the men and women to the left and right of the king. “Will determine the points as the bout progresses.”
The Council Leader held out his hands, one to the prince and one to her. They both stood and approached the center, stopping to face each other about six feet apart.
“Under no circumstances is there to be an attempt to permanently maim or,” he swallowed again. “Kill. Is this understood?”
Raahi nodded, but the prince was looking around, the annoyed look sliding into anger. What or who was he looking for? An audience? Has he no idea of the hologram equipment?
For the first time she was seeing him up close, and it hit her how young he truly was. Not even eighteen.
“Prince Hahn?”
The prince looked at the councilor. “What?”
“Do you understand the rules?”
He waved his hand as if dismissing the man. “Yes, of course.” His eyes locked on Raahi and a chill ran through her. This was no youngster in front of her. The glint in his eyes and twist of lips let her know he would not hold back at all. She faced him squarely, refusing to be intimidated. He might be physically stronger, but she had faced much worse and survived. She would now.
The prince’s eyes narrowed, evidently taken aback. Probably not used to anyone standing up to his bullying ways.
“Select your instruments,” the Council Leader said with a wave of his hands sending them back to their seats. “When you are ready, the bout will begin.”
Raahi took three steps backwards, not looking away from Hahn, before she turned to go back to her chairs. While she had been facing the prince, a table had been placed at each end with beverages and various things a duelist might need. Three boxes lay in front, lids lifted and displaying several daggers in each.
“Your ‘instruments’ Ma—, um, Milady,” said Jonah. She smiled at him, forgiving him the near slip with her personal name.
“Don’t know why he couldn’t say what they are. Weapons.”
Jonah’s face went blank, and she could see the tension around his eyes. “Be careful. I know he is ruthless.”
“I can see that. Worry not, all will be well.” Maya had always said those formal words like a chant. They gave her strength now. She turned to the boxes. They were allowed to pick two, so she hefted each to get the feel and weight. Some were balanced poorly, and some appeared to be merely decorative. Only one box held daggers that were any good, and she suspected Jagjit had a hand in their selection. Finally, she selected two that fit her hand with a good balance for wielding and throwing.
She turned back to indicate she was ready, and her eyes lit on the prince lounging as if bored. Raahi knew she hadn’t taken that long. It was just a calculated affectation on his part. She shut any reaction down.
The councilor walked to the center and motioned them in. They stopped the same distance apart.
“The bell will sound to begin the match. When it sounds again, the fight must cease. There will be breaks, or you may call for a halt up to three times.” He placed his right palm down between them and asked if they were ready. They both nodded, and he lifted his hand as he spoke.
“Begin.”
***
Hahn immediately rushed to close with the imposter. He wanted to get this show over with as soon as possible so that he could find and punish those who had failed him. He’d show the cowards how to take charge. He let his anger give him momentum.
The woman only raised her dagger and stupidly faced him. This would be quick. Too bad he couldn’t end it sooner with a dagger in her chest. At the last moment, she brought the dagger in her right hand toward his face. As he ducked and lunged, she pivoted backward to her right behind the outthrust hand and brought her left around to score a scratch on his arm as he surged past her.
“One point, Maya.” Even the announcer’s voice was irritating, thought Hahn, annoyed that he had allowed her the first touch. As soon as he turned he moved to close again. The bitch wouldn’t get another one like that by him.
He closed in only two steps and as she held her dagger out again, he feinted and ducked under her guard for a direct thrust. A wound to the stomach wasn’t fatal and should score several points as well as weaken, even if she would be patched up. But he was shocked to feel his dagger slammed to the side and another score on his shoulder.
“One point, Maya.”
Damn. He’d thought his loose clothing might hide some of the touches, but evidently the judges were quite observant. Now he pulled back to circle and evaluate. He eyed her up and down which usually worked to make others nervous. He noticed her snug clothes, close to her body but not constricting, hair bound up on her head out of the way. She’d boldly removed her gloves to show her tattoos. Ha. That wouldn’t give him pause at all. If anything, it energized him. She met his circling with mirroring strides, knives moving in patterns. As he noticed her graceful movements, he suddenly realized that she would be a tougher opponent than he believed.
So, he would take it up a notch.
He drove in again with both daggers extended, weight forward on his toes. As she brought her daggers up to defend, he kicked out with his leg and connected with her knee. She staggered, and he turned her own trick on her by bringing his right dagger toward her face and scoring a deep stab on her hip with his left. He had been aiming for her stomach but despite her knee, she’d managed to twist away.
“Three points, Hahn.”
He smirked. That’ll show her. He didn’t bother to wipe the blade but circled again, waiting for another opening. This time, when she rushed him, he was ready. He knew his height gave him the reach so, as she aimed low, he backed up then stretched to block the blade and use his greater weight to pull her to the ground delivering another stab to her shoulder.
“Three points, Hahn.”
A voice, not Maya’s, cried “Halt” and the bell sounded. He strutted to his seat where Lavan waited with a drink. What weakness to call for a break with a couple of stabs. He had this wrapped up.
***
Raahi strode to her seat, eyeing Jonah angrily.
“Why did you call for a halt?”
His eyes widened. “You need those wounds looked to. And a drink.”
“I’m fine, and I only get three halts. You wasted one.”
“My apologies. It won’t happen again.” He avoided her gaze and handed her an electrolyte mixture designed to replenish and energize. She didn’t need the extra boost; her adrenaline was already maxed. She ignored Jonah as he slapped self-adhering bandages on her shoulder and hip. She was angry at herself. She had thought the prince would stick to the formal knife dueling like she started with. But he scored with hand to hand techniques, not dagger fighting exactly, but not illegal either. Adding the dirty fighting like the kick to the knee was the last straw.
He had made a serious mistake. And she would show him exactly why.
***
Lenore watched, unable to look away, even during the break. She had always hat
ed knife fights. Calling it a “duel with daggers” may sound noble but, as the prince showed, it was barely a step up from street fighting. She hated this helpless feeling and would rather be the attendant whispering advice in Raahi’s ear.
“I’m glad Jonah is there for her,” she said softly.
“You’re welcome,” said Allison. “I knew the evidence would exonerate him. And with the king’s influence, he was sure to be released quickly. So.” She waved at the screen. “Yay.”
“Yes, well done as usual Alli,” said Lenore, trying to forget how much her family had interfered in the planetary politics already. “It’s my fault he was arrested in the first place. If we had let him in on the plan, he might have been more prepared.”
“Too late for that now,” said Diarmin. “Remember that for next time.”
Lenore’s eyes narrowed at her husband, wondering what he was thinking, but his gaze was on the screen. Allison was oblivious to anything other than the duel.
“So why isn’t she winning? I thought she would be tons better than the pampered prince.”
“I don’t think she was quite prepared for the prince’s underhanded methods,” replied Lenore.
“She is now,” said Diarmin.
Startled, Lenore glanced at him. “Why do you say that?”
“It’s in her eyes. I know that look.”
Lenore peered at a monitor on the right that showed a close-up of Raahi. Sure enough, Lenore recognized the fire and determination that was also tightly controlled insanity. She’d seen that look before. When she had first known Diarmin. Before they were married.
“It’s starting again,” said Quinn.
Lenore turned her thoughts away from the past and back into the present.
“Come on, Raahi.”
***
“Come on, Raahi,” Jonah whispered. He had seen the scars and knew she was capable of winning, but the fear gripping his heart made it difficult to breathe. Most of the fear was for her, but some of it was because she had closed herself off. From him. Their first tentative greeting had vanished in a heartbeat. He was afraid that no matter the outcome, she might never be open with him again.