by Sever Bronny
Augum thought he’d have the opportunity to speak, but the bagpipes started again, playing another spine-tingling and lofty tune, the kind one heard before a great battle.
Giovanni opened his arms wide. “And now Lord Stone and Lady Southguard will be taken below to ready for their duel … to the death!”
This time the crowd was a confusion of clapping, jeers and worried chatter.
Eric stiffly held out his elbow for Katrina. He guided her down a set of side steps while the wavering tune of the bagpipes interwove with the tight rat-tat-tat of the snares. The great line of drums struck once as Eric stiffly presented his cousin before Augum. He took a single step back and another great thump sounded.
“Are you ready to sacrifice yourself?” Katrina asked. Her unamplified voice was matter-of-fact and calm, yet there was an upward twist to the corner of her mouth.
BOOM! went the drums.
But it was Leera who spoke next, perhaps realizing their plan might not work like they had hoped. “Please …”
BOOM!
“Please what?” Katrina snapped, giving her a look of utter derision. “Please what, Leera? Are you going to beg for your lover’s life? Do it. I want to see you beg. Get down on your knees, here before twenty thousand people, and beg for his life like the little lapdog bitch you are.”
BOOM!
Leera gaped. Augum gaped. Jez and Bridget gaped. No one had ever used such language to their faces before. And certainly no highborn of good grooming. It was beyond scandalous. It was downright base, uncouth, and totally uncalled for. It was … barbaric.
BOOM!
Leera pulled her fist back as if to punch Katrina in the face, but thought better at the last moment. It had the desired effect, for Katrina flinched so badly her fake spectacles flew off her nose and landed at Leera’s feet. Leera made a show of stepping on them and grinding them underfoot. “Oops,” she said.
BOOM!
“There seems to be no love lost between the adversaries!” Giovanni said as the crowd rumbled anxiously. “Some sort of staring contest is taking place between Lady Leera Jones and her lover’s challenger, Lady Katrina Southguard. But alas, this fight is all about the king’s honor! Ah, and here comes the royal guard to take them away!”
BOOM!
Bridget, Jez and Leera had just enough time to give Augum a hug and a whispered “good luck” before a procession of royal guards, trumpeters and bagpipers, all wearing royal tabards, surrounded Katrina and Augum. A guard came between Augum and the girls, gruffly gesturing for them to step away. Augum managed to quickly grab Leera’s hand one last time before she was guided away, her fingers slipping through his. For a moment, his hand hung in midair, their eyes locked together, silently speaking their heart’s intent. Then the bagpipes and trumpeters and drums started a solemn marching anthem, dictating the pace to walk, a pace that felt … funereal.
Katrina
“So what’s your plan?” Katrina asked as the guards ceremoniously marched them through a tunnel. “You planning on taking the knee and hoping for mercy? Or perhaps someone stepping in on your behalf? An appeal to the audience? I know you didn’t show up to keel over and die. I’m awfully curious what you think you’re going to accomplish here.”
She glanced over at him. There was no music in her voice, no warmth, no empathy. There was only Southguard coldness. Her gray eyes reflected the drabness of the sky and her angular face was rigid and flat, beautiful in its iciness.
“You going to kill a girl, Augum? The beloved niece of the king? Hmm?”
Augum returned her look with a placid one of his own—and did not respond. If there was one thing he had learned in Military Strategy—a class she did not share with him—it was to never give the enemy any clues as to what you were thinking. Easier said than done, of course, but he had learned a trick or two from those noble games. And now they were entering an arena with which he was most familiar—the arena of life-and-death duels, of warfare, of battle. He did not fear it. He did not fear losing. What he feared was failing his friends, those who relied on him, and above all, his beloved.
“Keeping it a mystery, eh? Well, I’m all curiosity, yes I am. You know what will happen soon after this? I’m going to take possession of your castle. That’s right. Now that the Black Bank refused to loan you money, it’ll go into foreclosure. And guess who will step in to claim it? That’s right, the Southguards.”
Augum had to resist telling her that her own cousin had overturned the bank’s judgment. He thought it better she found out on her own. It would be a nice surprise.
Then Katrina walked closer and dropped her voice. “You really think this is about the king’s honor, don’t you? It’s about a lot more than that. A pity you will never get to find out what. I will vanquish you. And I will lop off your head in front of that entire audience.”
Augum sensed she itched to say more, to tell him her true motivation for the duel. He was curious whether she’d own up to it in public. He suspected he knew the answer, and it would be to his advantage.
“You make it difficult to hate you,” she said, surprising him. “You seem to have the perfect life. Good looks. A pretty girl. A castle. An honorable lineage. Fame.”
Augum almost responded—but saw her face hadn’t changed. This too was a fishing expedition to get him to divulge his feelings, feelings she could exploit.
Katrina made a distasteful sucking sound between her teeth when he once more remained impassive and unreadable.
Point to Stone, he thought, imagining Giovanni saying it in his tournament manner.
“I lied,” she said. “It’s not difficult to hate you. It’s unbelievably easy for me. It’s a gift, you know, being able to hate someone at a whim. My father taught it to me. I consider it one of my greatest strengths.”
How unfortunate for you, Augum thought.
After a series of stairs and more tunnels and people clamoring to peek at them through the throng of guards, the procession exited onto the hard-packed dirt of the arena floor to the tumultuous roar of the crowd. Giovanni had been buttering them up the entire time, and they were on their feet shouting, though what they were shouting Augum could not tell. What he did see were young heralds waving stacks of parchments among the stands—and people clamoring for them.
It seems the delayed publications had at last arrived. He watched for the reactions of those who read them and noticed them discussing whatever they had read with their neighbors. It had to be big news indeed.
The procession stopped in the center of the arena. The trumpeters and bagpipes ceased their blaring, leaving the snares to roll along, spiked by the occasional deep thump of the drums, shaking the ground and jarring Augum’s innards and increasing his heart rate. The battle would soon commence.
Giovanni fluttered close like an exotic bird, his rainbow robe billowing as his arms gracefully expressed his thoughts.
“… and those of us lucky enough to have been there to witness Lord Stone duel can vividly recount what a spectacular fight it was …”
Augum ignored him, closed his eyes and marshaled his thoughts, a general commanding cerebral soldiers. His lips moved silently as he went over his spells. Thirty-six spells, twenty-four of which had battlefield applications. He anticipated possibly using all but one, for Centarro was only for desperate situations, and he did not intend for things to get that far.
An attendant unfastened the golden Dreadnought breastplate, which Augum was not allowed to use in an honor duel, while another attendant held out his hands. Augum unfastened Burden’s Edge from his belt and handed it over. The young man broke protocol by looking into his eyes. He swallowed before jerking them back to position.
“… Southguard is an accomplished young woman, for as well as being a studious opponent in practice duels, she has also proven herself to be a most astute pupil, taking top honors in many of her classes. But practicing fighting for your life and actually fighting for your life are two very different things …”
Katrina, gaze confident and fierce, was bid by an attendant to stand before Augum.
“Do you pay attention to your dreams, Katrina?” Augum asked.
He had caught her off guard, and her eyes widened. But then they narrowed in determination. “Shut the hell up,” she spat as the attendants and guards retreated, and Giovanni began the formal tradition of announcing their titles.
Augum could have said any number of things to prod at her vulnerability. He could have been cruel, kind, strategic, or bold. But he decided to stick to his plan of revealing as little as possible until the right moment. Thus, he remained silent and stared at her without fear or hesitation, face placid like a still lake on a quiet morn.
Giovanni stepped up to the two combatants. There was a strong scent of eucalyptus about him.
“Lady Katrina Southguard, do you have anything to say to your opponent?”
Katrina placed a hand to her throat. “Amplifico.” She leveled her gaze at Augum. “I do. I am here to avenge the king’s injured honor. But I am also here because Augum Arinthian Stone and his vile, phony cohorts are hiding the scions in their vault. I believe only his death will open that vault and set those scions free, and then all Solians may benefit from them.”
The hairs on Augum’s arms rose. By announcing that only his death would free the scions she had insured that, should she fail in vanquishing him, any nefarious warlock with an iota of ambition would take a shot at him. If he didn’t somehow address it, he’d be chased until found and slaughtered.
The crowd stirred anxiously. Some called out, waving parchment heralds in their hands. Unfortunately, Augum was too far away to hear what they were saying. He glanced up at the king’s podium, but could not find the girls or Jez. He only saw a sea of faces.
“And you, Lord Augum Arinthian Stone. Do you have anything to say to your opponent?”
Augum stiffened. The moment to decide had come, except Katrina had placed him in an awful situation, and his plan needed adjusting.
“Yes,” he answered, only to have Giovanni subtly indicate to his own throat. Augum took the hint and touched his throat. “Amplifico,” he said, amplifying his voice as loudly as he could. “Yes, I do have something to say,” he boomed, voice echoing off the ancient stone tiers. “But not to her.”
The crowd stirred once more. Augum was acutely conscious of the horrible trap she had set for him. If he did not say anything, everyone would think he indeed possessed the scions. And as much as the kingdom needed him to lie about it, he could not do it, for he was now an Arcaner and lying fundamentally went against his ethos.
“What I tell you, I tell you out of a sense of truth and duty to that truth. We do not have the scions. They are gone forever, destroyed upon the vanquishing of the Lord of the Legion, who was once my father …” He raised his chin. “I so do swear this to be true … upon my honor—” Augum theatrically raised his left arm and summoned the largest shield he could muster, a great black lightning crust that drained a touch more of his stamina than usual due to its girth. “—as an Arcaner squire.”
The crowd erupted in uproar, but Giovanni’s voice floated over the noise as he inspected Augum’s shield.
“ ‘Semperis vorto honos,’ ” the man read aloud in his amplified voice. “Courage, fortitude, honor. These are indeed the words of an Arcaner. They are engraved in gold. This is a genuine Arcaner shield. Augum Arinthian Stone … has achieved the true rank of Arcaner squire!” Giovanni turned in place, nodding at the tumultuous crowd, fully in his element. He raised a dramatic finger. “As an accomplished Master of Ceremonies, I am familiar with the ways and customs of the Arcaners. Should an Arcaner break his code, the words on the shield will fade.” He gestured at Augum’s shield. “Behold, I say, for they fade not! Augum Arinthian Stone … is telling the truth!”
The Herald
Augum watched the crowd digest what Giovanni had said, watched as it dawned on them that he and the girls had been telling the truth the entire time. Vindication spread like wildfire, and the blood flowed faster in his veins.
Copies of the heralds spread too, but it seemed they had not reached the king’s podium yet, for not one parchment was visible in any hands near the man. Whatever mysterious news they carried, he could only hope it was to his benefit.
Giovanni was looking at him expectantly, as was the crowd.
“Lord Rupert Southguard,” Augum called, standing tall. “I beg thee to cancel this duel and accept my heartfelt apology for my offensive Black Slight.” He took a knee and bowed his head. “I have offended His Grace, but this need not go further.”
A hush fell as all joined Augum in taking a knee and bowing their heads. The music ceased—the king must have stood from his throne.
“Your admittance that you do not possess the scions was heartfelt,” King Rupert said in a tone that betrayed his annoyance. “You are a Hero of the Resistance and a vassal. But you have called upon the old ways to rectify a Black Slight. If I were to absolve you of that slight without the proper mechanics of a duel, I would be accepting the slight against my honor. I cannot allow that. You called for a duel, and I granted it to you. You must earn your honor back in the old way.”
The crowd muttered and hissed their disagreement with the king’s decree. They restlessly returned to their feet, indicating the king had sat back down. Augum stood with a heavy heart, conscious of Katrina’s gleeful smile.
Only one last hope remained in their plan …
Giovanni brought his hands together as the snares began steadily rattling. “Very well. This duel is for the honor of the king. It is to the death. Combatants shall observe the standard rules of dueling. No leaving the arena. No use of artifacts of any kind. No dishonorable combat. No illegal spells shall be cast. No aid shall be given. A bent knee will not be accepted.”
The enormous crowd was on its feet, anxious. The roll of snares continued, joined by a tense, wavering note from the bagpipes.
Giovanni raised his arms. “Combatants, in the ancient tradition of arcane honor, show your stripes and bow to your opponent!”
BOOM BOOM! went the massive drums in a heartbeat double-tap.
Augum flared seven lightning rings around his forearm while Katrina flared seven air rings around hers. Each bowed to the other.
BOOM BOOM!
Giovanni stepped back and gestured grandly at Katrina. “Lady Katrina Southguard, are you ready?”
She inclined her head.
BOOM BOOM!
Giovanni took one more step back and gestured at Augum. “Augum Arinthian Stone, are you ready?”
Augum inclined his head, breathing rapidly.
BOOM BOOM!
Giovanni chopped at the air. “Fight!”
The bagpipes soared into a rousing battle anthem while the drums took up a thunderous rhythm. And throughout ripped the vibrant snares, guiding, marching.
Augum and Katrina sprang back before attacking. Katrina struck first, slamming her hands together and shouting, “Annihilo!”
Augum leaped aside as a sharp spike of twisting wind drilled a hole into the ground behind him. “Effectus xadius!” he countered while drawing an S in the air.
Katrina yelped from the 7th degree Slow spell, her eyes widening. Perhaps she had realized the raw strength of his spell casting.
“And they’re off to a flying start!” Giovanni narrated, flitting around them like a hummingbird.
Augum took advantage of her momentary hesitation. “Effectus xadius!” he called again, voice booming through the arena.
She winced as her head snapped back.
“A second Slow casting from the legendary hero!” Giovanni said. “I do believe she’s been slowed just a touch!”
“Flustrato!” Katrina snapped, and twisted her hand at his head.
It felt like a battering ram had smashed into his Mind Armor, sapping his arcane stamina; her Confusion casting was indeed strong.
Giovanni tapped his temple. “She might have penetrated! But to wha
t degree?”
But Augum was too seasoned and had withstood her attack. “Effectus xadius!”
“Incredible, folks! A third Slow casting!”
Katrina grimaced and shoved violently at the air before her, shouting, “Baka!”
Augum flared his shield, and there was a loud thwack. He was about to disappear it, when she shouted, “Annihilo!” forcing him to keep his shield up. The blast struck it at an angle, causing his bad elbow to lock up on him. He yelped and staggered.
“He’s off balance—!” Giovanni sang and the crowd gasped.
“Annihilo bato!” Katrina roared, boldly flinging her Second Offensive. But her movements were a full quarter heartbeat slower. The triple Slow castings had done their job, allowing Augum to swivel behind his shield in time to feel a simultaneous double thwack.
His elbow unlocked painfully, and he disappeared his shield, snapping his arms toward her throat while clenching his hands and shouting, “Voidus lingua!”
Her hands shot to her throat as she stumbled back a step.
Augum sensed she had withstood it, which was fine, as the point had been to drain her stamina.
“A stellar Mute attack!” Giovanni sang, dancing around them.
Augum, imagining himself as an unyielding and ferocious arcane warrior, followed up with a flurry of mental attack spells.
“Deafness! Confusion! Paralyze! We’re looking at a combo here, folks! Can she hold on?”
But Augum did not let up, rapidly draining his stamina, but with purpose, finally concluding with a vicious hand twist aimed at her face as he roared, “Dreadus terrablus!”
The Fear spell blasted through her vulnerable mind. Her mouth opened, and she let loose a gut-wrenching scream that must have raised goose bumps on every arm in that arena.
Augum allowed her a moment of terror before extending his arm and precisely drawing the outline of her body. “Paralizo carcusa cemente.” The Paralyze spell instantly froze her in place.
Giovanni danced uncomfortably near. “And she is out! But will he kill her?”