So I Married a Sorcerer

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  Two slipped, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance. Rupert jumped and kicked him in the chest, causing Two to crash into the mud with a loud smack.

  The crowd roared, Seven! Seven!

  Before Two could get up, Rupert planted a boot on his chest. With both hands on the hilt of his sword, he held the sword with the tip aimed for the general’s heart.

  “Surrender!” Rupert yelled.

  “Never,” General Tarvis growled.

  “I surrender!” Five yelled, and Rupert quickly glanced at the other pair. Captain Mador had pinned Five to the ground, his sword raised just like Rupert’s was over the general.

  With a laugh, Mador lifted his sword high, ready to plunge it into Five’s chest.

  “No!” Rupert let loose a blast of wind that knocked Mador’s sword aside enough that it hit the ground beside Five’s shoulder.

  Five rolled away, safe for the moment.

  The general grabbed Rupert’s leg that was pinning him down and wrenched him off balance. As Rupert fell on his rump, Tarvis struggled to get to his feet in the slippery mud. With the flat edge of his sword, Rupert knocked Tarvis’s feet out from underneath him. The general fell down with another splat just as Rupert jumped to his feet.

  He kicked the sword out of Tarvis’s hand, then planted his foot on the general’s neck. With a growl, Tarvis threw a clod of mud at Rupert’s face.

  Rupert spit it back onto the general and lifted his sword once more. “Surrender!”

  The horn blasted, signaling the end of the match. Armed guards ran onto the field.

  “Step back!” one of them ordered Rupert.

  Rupert glanced up at Gunther. So the king wanted to save his general from the disgrace of surrendering. No doubt Rupert’s victory would be ignored, while One would be named today’s winner. Since Five was the only one who had surrendered, he would be the loser.

  Tossing his sword aside, Rupert stepped back.

  General Tarvis scrambled to his feet and snarled, “I’m going to kill you, Seven. In the next contest, you die.”

  Rupert removed his helmet. “You’re welcome to try.” As the crowd continued to chant Seven, he smiled. “But apparently, everyone wants you to lose.”

  * * *

  “Don’t worry,” Rupert whispered to Five as they mounted the stairs to the platform with the trapdoors. “I’ll make sure you and the others survive.”

  Five gave him a wry look. “I’m starting to believe you can.”

  “You have my word.” Rupert patted him on the back as he moved toward trapdoor number five.

  Mador and Tarvis stood at the far end of the platform, glaring at him.

  The horn sounded, the crowd counting along till five blasts had been completed. Five’s trapdoor opened, and he fell through.

  After the roar of the crowd quieted down, the horn blared again. King Gunther stood, and everyone jumped to their feet. A hush fell over the stadium.

  Gunther swept an arm toward the platform. “Good people of Tourin,” he shouted. “You see before you the three best warriors in the land. And so, it is only fitting that they confront our country’s worst enemy. The next round will be a noble quest, and the winner will be the one who first delivers to me the head of a dragon!”

  Rupert stiffened as a thousand gasps echoed around the stadium. Holy crap. How could he kill a dragon?

  * * *

  That night, Brigitta paced in her bedroom, waiting for Brody to emerge in human form from the dressing room.

  “Try to remain calm,” Sister Fallyn said quietly.

  “Calm?” Brigitta cried. “How many times must I watch Rup—you-know-who risk his life? The swordfight was bad enough, but now he has to face a fire-breathing dragon?”

  Brody strode from the dressing room, wearing breeches and an unbuttoned shirt. “Is there anything to eat—”

  “Did you see him?” Brigitta demanded. “Is he all right?”

  “I couldn’t see him.” Brody gave her a sad look. “After the swordfight, the guards took him to the army barracks. They won’t even let Stefan see him. They claim if they don’t keep him under watch, he might try to escape.”

  Brigitta sank into a chair. Any man in his right mind would try to escape Gunther’s ridiculous quest. “I think the king is using them for revenge. He must hate the dragons for what they did to him.”

  Brody nodded. “Probably so. Tomorrow, Gunther and several army troops are taking the three contestants to the Norveshki border. They expect to arrive before nightfall. The following morning, the three contestants will cross into Norveshka to hunt for dragons.”

  Brigitta took a deep breath. For four days now, she’d been forced to sit still, looking pretty while Rupert risked his life. No more. If she wanted a say in her own destiny, she needed to act.

  “Here.” Sister Fallyn passed Brody a tray of food leftover from dinner. Brigitta had hardly been able to eat.

  “You were closer to the field,” she said quietly. “You could see him better than I. Was he all right?”

  “He’s fine. Not a scratch.” Brody ate a slice of ham. “Stefan went back to their room in the basement to pack up their things. He’s rejoined the other guards and servants from Eberon, who have been staying in town. They plan to follow the troops tomorrow at a discreet distance.”

  Brigitta nodded. “That sounds good.”

  Brody sighed. “It’s not all good. I shifted into a bird and landed on a windowsill close to where Captain Mador and General Tarvis were having a discussion. Once they cross the border into Norveshka, they’re not even going to attempt to kill a dragon.”

  “But then they’ll lose the round,” Brigitta said.

  Brody shook his head. “There can be only one loser. They intend for it to be Seven. Instead of hunting a dragon, they plan to ambush—”

  “Rup—” Brigitta pressed a hand to her mouth. Of course, if Rupert was brought back dead, he would automatically become the loser. The captain and the general would become the last two.

  “From their position, it’s a great plan,” Brody muttered. “They won’t have to risk their lives fighting a dragon.” He bit off a piece of cheese. “I wanted to pass the news on to you-know-who, but I couldn’t get near him. I tried slipping in as a dog, but the guards shooed me away. Even if I made it inside the barracks, I would have to shift to talk to him, and the soldiers would see it.”

  “We have to warn him.” Brigitta rose to her feet and paced across the room. “And we need to be close by in case he needs us.” She stopped in front of Sister Fallyn. “Pack some clothes. We’re going with the troops in the morning.”

  Sister Fallyn gasped. “What? I don’t think the king will allow it.”

  “If he tries to refuse me, I’ll remind him that he agreed that I could participate as I desired. I need to be there to congratulate the winner when he returns.”

  “The king might still refuse,” Brody muttered. “He’s not exactly known for keeping his word.”

  Brigitta shrugged. “If he does, we’ll travel with Stefan and his group. I will not stay here, doing nothing!”

  Brody smiled. “Fine. I’ll travel along as your dog. Or even fly overhead as a bird.”

  “Excellent.” Brigitta’s heart pounded. Rupert would not have to face this quest alone. Even if she had to follow him into Norveshka, she would do it.

  For this was her destiny, too.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The following evening, Brigitta was pacing once again, but this time in a tent by the Norveshki border. Luckily, Gunther hadn’t objected to her and Sister Fallyn coming along. He’d actually been pleased by her apparent support of his dragon hunt. And since he normally traveled with a dozen wheeled carts and two dozen servants, the addition of one more carriage hadn’t fazed him.

  Brigitta’s sack of clothes had looked puny compared with Gunther’s six trunks that filled one cart. Two carts were filled with tents and rugs, then another two carried the furniture Gunther wanted in his
tent. It took another cart to transport the five-foot-tall golden candlesticks he insisted on having. The rest of the carts were filled with cooking supplies and food.

  Stuck inside a carriage all day, Brigitta hadn’t been able to see Rupert. She’d spent the day gazing out the window at the homeland she’d never known. Rolling farmland, cut into squares and outlined with rock walls. Small villages built around a chapel of Enlightenment.

  As they traveled east, the land had grown increasingly hilly, the farms replaced by large forests and pastures of sheep. The last several miles had proven difficult, for the horses had strained to pull the heavy carts up inclines that had become too steep. Eventually, the caravan had halted in a green valley close to a meandering stream. When Brigitta had finally emerged from the carriage, stiff and sore, she’d stared in amazement at mountains so high they were topped with snow.

  So now she was pacing in her tent, worrying about the ambush. The night before at the palace, she’d written a note for Rupert. She reached into the bodice of her gown to retrieve it.

  Sister Fallyn lifted the flap to enter the tent. “The servants say he’ll be sleeping among the soldiers.”

  “All right.” Brigitta carefully palmed the folded note in her hand. “Are you ready?”

  Sister Fallyn winced. “If we get caught—”

  “We won’t. Brody will be watching over us. Let’s go.” Brigitta strode from the tent with Sister Fallyn following close behind.

  There were four lines of tents where the two troops of soldiers would be sleeping. As Brigitta approached, the soldiers stopped what they were doing and bowed.

  She nodded her head imperiously. “Good evening.”

  One of the soldiers, a lieutenant, stepped toward her. “Your Highness, is there something we can do for you?”

  “Yes.” She let her gaze wander over the tents. “I would like to wish Seven good luck. He’s here, isn’t he?”

  The lieutenant winced. “He’s not supposed to see anyone.”

  Brigitta sneered much like her brother would do. “I’m not just anyone. The man has risked his life to win my hand, so it is only fitting that I acknowledge his efforts.” She lowered her voice. “What’s the harm in a few words? The man will probably die tomorrow.”

  The lieutenant shifted his weight. “That is true.”

  “So where is he? I’m curious to see the man who inspired so much cheering at the stadium.”

  “This way.” The lieutenant led her down the third row of tents and stopped in front of one. “Seven, come out.”

  The tent flap opened and Rupert emerged with a guard, who immediately bowed.

  Rupert’s eyes widened a fraction, then he lowered his gaze and bowed. “Your Highness.”

  Brigitta quickly looked him over. He didn’t seem injured in any way. “So this is the man everyone was chanting about?” She leaned close to Sister Fallyn. “He seems quite ordinary, doesn’t he?”

  Sister Fallyn nodded, then gasped and pointed at the sky. “Good heavens, is that a dragon?”

  While the soldiers turned to look, Brigitta grabbed Rupert’s hand and pressed the note against his palm.

  He squeezed her hand, his gaze meeting hers for a heated second, then he released her, curling his fist around the note.

  “It’s just an eagle.” The guard turned toward them.

  “Really?” Brigitta glanced up. It was Brody, ready to swoop down and attack if they needed a distraction.

  “Oh, what a relief.” Sister Fallyn pressed a hand to her chest. “I’m so afraid one of those awful dragons will attack us.”

  “Don’t worry, madam,” the lieutenant boasted. “We’re here to protect you.”

  Brigitta smiled at the soldiers. “How marvelous of you.” She turned toward Rupert. “I doubt we’ll meet again, sir, but I wanted to wish you good luck.”

  He gave her a wry look, then inclined his head. “You are too kind, Your Highness.”

  “Yes, I know.” As she sauntered off, she heard Rupert telling his guard he needed to piss. No doubt he was seeking a moment of privacy to read the note. “Thank you, Lieutenant.” She waved a hand in the air without bothering to look back.

  Sister Fallyn trailed along behind, playing the role of a devoted servant. When they reached the privacy of their tent, they both heaved huge sighs of relief.

  “Oh, thank you.” Brigitta hugged the nun. “I couldn’t have managed without you.”

  “What did the note say?” Sister Fallyn asked.

  “It was short and simple. ‘After you cross the border, One and Two will try to kill you.’”

  Sister Fallyn winced. “I suppose that is all we can do for now. I’ll go fetch us some dinner.”

  “Thank you.” Alone in the tent, Brigitta resumed her pacing. Hopefully by now, Rupert would have read the note.

  A bark sounded outside. Brigitta lifted the tent flap, and Brody, now in dog form, trotted inside.

  “Here.” She set a pair of breeches on her cot, then stepped outside to let him shift in private.

  The sun was lowering in the sky, so numerous torches were being lit around the camp. The scent of wood smoke and roasting meat was thick in the air.

  Gunther’s tent was unmistakable, since it was huge and topped with a dozen banners in blue and gold. The sound of male laughter emanated from within. He was enjoying a meal with Captain Mador and General Tarvis. She’d been invited, but had declined, saying she was too tired from the day’s travel.

  Her skin prickled as once again she had the odd feeling that she was being watched. She scanned the camp, but everyone seemed busy at their tasks.

  “You can come in now,” Brody whispered, and she ducked back into the tent. “I have news. Stefan and the others have camped two miles from here.”

  “That’s good. I managed to pass a note on to Seven.”

  “Excellent.” Brody nodded. “Tomorrow when he leaves, I’ll follow him as a bird. Stefan will be able to see me, so he’ll follow on horseback. We’ll watch his back.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  Brody stiffened. “No, you’re not. Seven will have my hide if I endanger you. Once we cross the border, we’ll be dragon bait.”

  “I’m still going with you.”

  “I’ve heard the mountains are treacherous, and snow can fall at any time, even in the summer. The forests are full of bears, wolves, and wildcats, and they’re actually tame compared with the Norveshki warriors. The valleys have bubbling cauldrons of mud and geysers that shoot hot steam. The land around them is barren and scattered with the bones of animals that ventured too far onto the hot surface.”

  Brigitta took a deep breath. “No matter what you say, I am going. I can speak Norveshki. Can any of you?”

  Brody winced.

  “If we’re captured by the Norveshki warriors, you’ll need me.”

  Brody heaved a sigh. “Fine. You make a good point. I’ll take you.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  With a groan, he shook his head. “You-know-who is going to be pissed.”

  Her grin faded. “I can deal with his anger. What I can’t handle is the possibility of him being injured or killed.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Brigitta watched as One, Two, and Seven were lined up in front of Gunther’s tent. The three men sheathed the swords they were given, then soldiers handed each of them a bow, a quiver of arrows, and a spear.

  Brigitta’s heart pounded, knowing that Captain Mador and General Tarvis planned to use those weapons on Rupert.

  Gunther and a local nobleman strolled in front of the three men, inspecting them.

  “You will follow the path along the stream,” the nobleman explained. “It will take you into Norveshka.”

  “Yes, my lord,” all three men replied. The captain and the general shot an annoyed look at Rupert that he had dared to answer with them.

  “One final note,” Gunther announced as he stared at the three contestants. “Don’t think you can wea
sel out of this quest by simply killing one of your companions. I have requested the head of a dragon, and you will deliver. If you’re too cowardly to kill a dragon, I’ll kill you myself!”

  One and Two gulped. Seven’s eyes narrowed.

  “You will avenge me for what those dragons did to me!” Gunther bellowed, his eyes seething with rage. “Do you hear me? I need revenge!”

  Rupert’s hands fisted, and a strong gust of wind shot down the valley, shaking the tents and snapping the pennants.

  Was Rupert causing this? Brigitta’s gown whipped against her legs, and her cloak billowed in the air. The wind kept coming, growing stronger and stronger.

  Servants cried out in alarm as they stumbled against one another. Campfires blew out, cooking spits tumbled over, and large pots crashed to the ground. Dark clouds moved in, casting the valley into shadow. Horses whinnied as they trotted nervously about their enclosure.

  As the wind grew more powerful, the soldiers’ tents began to uproot from the ground, and the objects inside flew into the air. The soldiers who tried to save their tents were blown into one another and pummeled with flying objects.

  Thunder cracked overhead, and servants screamed, running for the nearby woods for shelter. Horses crashed through the makeshift fence and charged through the camp, causing more chaos.

  Brigitta grabbed Sister Fallyn, and they hunched down as a tremendous gale-force wind struck Gunther’s tent.

  He screamed in rage as his tent flapped about like a rag doll. “Save my tent!”

  Soldiers rushed to help as One and Two grabbed on to Gunther’s tent.

  Brigitta saw Rupert easing away, unnoticed in all the chaos. He jumped on a horse and charged away, headed on the path to Norveshka.

  The dark clouds opened overhead, letting loose a deluge of rain. Brigitta and Sister Fallyn dashed for their tent, which was lopsided but still in place. She ran inside to gather the small bundle she intended to take with her.

  “You’re soaked through,” Sister Fallyn said. “You should change.”