Queen Allanna laughed. “You have high aspirations for an elf, Sarco Sunwalker. My son has never been defeated, and defeat him you must to complete the quest. There has never been, and will never be, an elf born who can best Prince Adan. Perhaps after your unfortunate death, your brother Cyrrick will be able to use the ring for his bride. From what I’ve been told, Aryanna prefers him over you.”
Sarco ignored Queen Allanna as he made his way back to his brother and friends. He reached through the wall of soldiers and held out the ring to Cyrrick. “Would you hold this for me and keep it safe?”
Cyrrick nodded.
Sarco returned to the battle circle and whispered to Adan, “I know I’ve asked much of you these past days, but there is one more thing I request. We both know I’m not much of a swordsman and most probably will die this day, for I am known for my magic, not my brawn. But Lark is innocent in all of this and she is being held prisoner. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to see her set free. Even try my best to kill you, my friend.”
He locked gazes with Adan. “Let us make a pact, shall we? You have a duty to your people as do I to mine. Duty we both understand. Promise me, Adan. Promise me no matter what happens in this arena today, you’ll personally protect Lark. You’ll get her somewhere safe. Don’t let your mother send her to VoT, I beg of you.”
A hush fell over the crowd as lights dimmed and a single spotlight illuminated the two men.
Adan nodded to Sarco then turned in a circle, encompassing the crowd with an angry look upon his face. “Do my fellow countrymen consider me a weakling?”
A mighty roar of, “No, never!” went up.
The barbarian prince held out his arm and pointed. “Then, do you consider Sarco Sunwalker, the elfin heir to Landis, to be a superior swordsman to me?”
Again the crowd yelled their nays.
For a moment, Sarco didn’t understand why Adan was doing what he was doing, then understanding dawned, and he grinned.
After a few moments, silence fell and Adan shook his head as he looked first toward his parents, then back to the crowd. “Then I don’t get it. If I am the champion and I am expected to win, why would any noble barbarian give this man a rusty weapon with which to fight? Is this how you wish your champion, your prince, to win? I can only conclude it must have been a horrible mistake, for barbarians are men of honor, are we not?”
The crowd roared.
Adan hung his head and Sarco chuckled at his theatrics.
“Now, is there not a single warrior in this arena willing to let this…elf use a real blade for a few moments?”
The sound of a thousand swords being unsheathed at the same time was deafening, and the glare of the shine off their blades so blinding, Sarco didn’t even see the man walking toward him until the barbarian king stood mere inches away.
King Alfred Hammerstrike bowed before Sarco and handed him his own gleaming broadsword hilt, then turned and made his way back to his throne. The crowd became as silent as death itself and stood at attention until the king once more took his throne.
Adan raised his hand and silence fell. “Now that we’re equally armed, we shall see who is victorious this day. Prepare to defend yourself, Elf.”
Again, the crowd rose to their feet and roared as the two men faced off. Sarco took a deep breath and braced himself for a quick and sudden death.
Adan hefted his broadsword high above his head, and Sarco almost forgot to fend off the first blow as the barbarian prince looked him straight in the eye, winked, smiled, then brought his sword swiftly down. With a loud clang and a teeth-rattling blow, metal struck metal.
The crowd gasped.
Over and over, the two men sparred, trading blows and maneuvering for position. The crowd continued to cheer as sweat trickled down Sarco’s chest as fast as the grains of sand were dropping through the hourglass.
Before long, his arms burned beneath the weight of the sword and his muscles quivered. All he could hear was the ringing of metal upon metal in his ears. Still, he sensed Adan was holding back, not using all the power he had at his disposal, but Sarco wasn’t sure why.
Just when Sarco’s energy to fend off one more blow failed him, Adan’s huge barbarian arm wrapped around his neck. With a loud smack, their foreheads collided. Pain shot through Sarco’s head and with the ringing in his ears, he almost missed Adan’s words.
“We must make this look real. The crowd expects it. We both know our honor and duty, my friend, but we also understand loyalty. When I tell you to, I want you to trip me and place your sword at my throat. Until then, keep defending against my blows.”
Sarco shook his head to clear it. “You would…let me win?”
Adan Hammerstrike smiled. “Before this quest I would’ve gladly killed you, but over the past days, I’ve found you to be a brave and honorable man, Sarco Sunwalker.”
Adan raised his sword and swung. The bones of Sarco’s arm ached as he once more blocked the blow.
The barbarian price smiled. “I’ll be proud to call you my brother at the end of this day, no matter which of my sisters you wed. A man doesn’t raise his sword against his brother in anger, but only in defense thereof. From this day forward, you have my loyalty and my sword if ever you need.”
“And my magic is yours, brother, now and forever.” Sarco smiled.
Adan nodded. “Time for the big finish. We wouldn’t want to disappoint our spectators.”
In the next heartbeat, Sarco found himself flat on his back with the wind knocked from his lungs, gasping as a sword came ever closer to his chest. From the vibrations reverberating through his bones, he could tell the crowd was on their feet stomping along with their yelling.
Adan mouthed the word roll a split second before the sword would have split him in half. And roll out of its way was precisely what Sarco did. With a flourish, he leapt to his feet and once more faced Adan.
Again the barbarian prince mouthed a word, but this time it was now.
Sarco swept his foot in a circular motion from left to right and, even though they’d planned it, he was still surprised when Adan fell backward. With lightning-quick swiftness, Sarco brought his sword down until the very tip of the blade rested against the pulse of Adan’s neck.
The arena became silent. The falling of a single grain of sand through the hourglass could’ve been heard. When Adan spoke, there wasn’t an ear in the building that didn’t hear. “I forfeit. You win your challenge, Sarco Sunwalker.”
There was one more moment of absolute, perfect silence before an earsplitting shriek shattered the air.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
If ever a man had no idea whether to jump for joy or cry with despair, Sarco knew himself to be that man. He stood in the middle of the arena, enormously relieved the quest was now complete, but at the same time, he dreaded facing the next task—that of trying to convince a reluctant king and a totally irate queen they’d made an error in judgment choosing Aryanna as his bride.
And there was still the human rule of order of marriage that needed to be dealt with since, according to Briar and Laycee, no way around it had been found.
It was difficult to form a coherent thought, however, with Queen Allanna Hammerstrike giving her son the dressing down of a lifetime at the top of her lungs.
“You forfeit? What do you mean, you forfeit? How dare you forfeit, and to an…an…an elf of all things. I’ll never live down the shame of this day. You’ve disgraced not only me and your entire family, but also the crown and every barbarian who breathes. I can’t believe such a coward as you actually came from my body. You must be your father’s son. You certainly aren’t mine. No son of mine would’ve ever—”
“Cease!” The sudden shout of the single word from an unexpected source silenced the queen and shocked Sarco all the way to his toes. He stared at the throne.
Queen Allanna glanced in the direction of her husband, lifted an eyebrow, glared, then continued. “As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, no son of min
e would’ve ever forfeited. No. My son would’ve died before dishonoring himself and his people in such a fashion.”
Adan Hammerstrike stood tall, straight, and silent before his parents and the full arena with an impassive look on his face. The only thing that belied his calm was the twitch Sarco observed every now and again in his jaw, and the tiny shake of his head toward Cyrrick, Uthiel, Sherman, and Leeky when it looked as if they were going to speak in his defense.
The queen opened her mouth once more, but King Alfred surprised them all. “Not another word. Do you hear me, Allanna? You will cease this instant. I am king, and it’s high time you knew it. I will be obeyed in this. You will now sit down and be silent, or I’ll be forced to have you bound to your chair and gagged until these proceedings are finished.”
Queen Allanna didn’t bother to look at her husband as she flipped her hand in his direction and laughed, “You wouldn’t dare.”
King Alfred snapped his fingers and immediately guards from every corner of the arena formed before him. “This is your last chance, Allanna. Sit down.”
The queen made a production of turning her back to her husband and addressing the guards. “Return to your posts this instant. I command you.”
Not one guard moved.
She stomped her foot. “I said go.”
The guard closest to the throne shuffled his feet and looked sheepishly at the king. “What kind of rope will you be wanting, Sire? I have a few lengths of sturdy hemp with me and an extra handkerchief if that’ll do the job. “
For a moment, Sarco thought the queen was going to strike the man down as she raised her hand and screamed. She never got the opportunity.
As gently as if dealing with a small child, the barbarian king lifted his human wife, set her upon her throne and placed the offered hanky between her teeth before she could say another word. Then, he tied it swiftly and securely behind her head.
She squirmed and kicked, fought and twisted, but to no avail as King Alfred used five lengths of rope to tie his wife to her chair. One on each of her arms and legs and one about her middle. When he was finished, he turned toward the people gathered in the arena.
“Now, my sweet queen and I are prepared to watch and enjoy the wedding of our daughter and the fulfillment of the prophecy. We sincerely hope you will all stay as our guests and enjoy the festivities of the coming evening. There will be a formal reception afterward.”
King Alfred Zavier Caden Hammerstrike took his seat and patted his wife upon the hand as he addressed Sarco. “Are you now prepared to do your duty by joining our two families together, Sarco, heir of Landis?”
Having glanced in the direction of Adan to see if the man had any last-minute advice as to how to proceed, Sarco was a little surprised when Adan leaned toward him and whispered, “You’re on your own in this one. If you have something to say, now would be the time.”
Sarco took two deep breaths before kneeling before the barbarian throne. He closed his eyes a moment to still the racing of his heart. After one more long cleansing breath, he spoke. “Your Majesty, my greatest hope is to join together our two families for all time and finally fulfill the prophecy spoken almost nine hundred years ago. And as God Draka is my witness, I do not mean to offend in anyway, but I simply cannot marry Aryanna. I love Lark. It must be she or none.”
The crowd went wild with boos and hisses. Even the Council of the Elders pointed and frowned. Except for Grandmother Ava, who Sarco could swear was smiling at him.
The king raised his hand for silence then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. Sarco looked toward Queen Allanna to see her reaction and, for a moment, was afraid the woman was having seizures from the way she was twisting and flopping around.
King Alfred simply leaned over and patted his wife’s hand once more. Finally, he looked up. “And what precisely would you have me do about the human rule of marriage? Lark is the youngest and as such must marry last. What should I do about the other three? Perhaps marry them off to the highest bidder just so you may have the wife you wish? Life is at times hard, young man. We don’t always get what we wish for.”
Sarco stood straight and faced the king. “It’s true we don’t always get what we want, but it’s also true you should never be willing to settle for something you don’t want, either. Aryanna is a beautiful, wonderful woman, but she isn’t for me. However, I know for a fact, my brother, Cyrrick, loves Aryanna with everything he is, and she loves him the same way. They belong together, and I implore you to allow them to be the first to wed this day.”
The king looked around the crowd. “And is your brother, Cyrrick, here and ready to speak for himself?”
Cyrrick stepped forward, stood beside Sarco, and bowed before the king. “What my brother says is true, Your Majesty. Aryanna and I do love each other very much and have for some time. She is a strong, intelligent, young woman and will not only make a wonderful diplomat’s wife, but a powerful diplomat in her own right. Without her, I am but half, longing to be whole again. I ask you for her hand, and if you grant my fondest wish, I promise I’ll cherish Aryanna the remainder of my days and treat her as your mother would’ve wanted, like a queen.”
Cyrrick bowed and stepped back into the shadows.
Queen Allanna shook her head violently, and for a moment, Sarco thought he saw foam forming in the corners her mouth around the gag.
The king paced before his throne before turning once again toward Sarco. “And the twins, what would you have me do with them? Do you have suitors waiting to marry them also? There is that troll prince and the dwarf duke, but…”
The king didn’t get the chance to say another word as Sherman jumped up and down waving his arms. “Point of order. Point of order.”
King Alfred sighed. “What is it, halfling?”
Sherman gulped twice as he made his way forward, until he was standing directly in front of the king. “You can’t marry Ally and Audrey off to a troll or a dwarf. You simply can’t.”
The king looked down his nose at Sherman. “And why can’t I?”
Sherman shuffled his feet, straightened his spine, then looked King Alfred in the eye. Sarco had never been as proud of the little halfling as he was this moment.
“Be…be…because I’m in love with them.”
The king shook his head. “You’re in love with which one of them?”
Sherman cleared his throat, but his voice still came out in a squeak. “Both.”
The king laughed, “No man gets to have two women, halfling, especially two barbarian princesses. Not that you’ll get either, but just out of curiosity, if you had the choice, which of my daughters would you choose?”
Sarco slipped an arm about Sherman’s shoulder for support. Though the halfling’s voice quivered as he answered, the squeak was gone and the tone rang true.
“How can you ask a man to choose between his next breath or his next heartbeat? For that is what you’re asking of me. Ally is like the air I need to sustain my life—fresh, crisp, and full of promise. And Audrey, she pulses with an energy and exuberance that feeds my soul. You mustn’t separate them. That would be beyond cruel. Together they make the most amazing One there has ever been. Apart, they would wither and die. If you can’t find it in your heart to give them both to me, I’ll understand, but please don’t ever force them to be separated. They wouldn’t survive it.”
Not even the taking of a breath could be heard from the crowd. Even the queen herself sat in stunned silence.
King Alfred sat heavily upon his throne and looked toward his son, and Sarco held his breath. “Above all men, it’s your council I respect the most, Adan. Someday it will fall upon your shoulders to take my place and rule our people. Do you have an opinion as to how I am to proceed?”
Adan Hammerstrike faced his father. His voice rang to the very rafters of the arena. “I have quested with these men, Father. Together we’ve eaten, slept, and faced many dangers. We have overcome much. From each and every one of them, I’ve learned another aspect
of honor, duty, bravery, and true kinsmanship. They are my friends, and I would trust any of them with my life and lay down my own for them. I am proud to call them my brothers, and I would count my sisters, all of my sisters, lucky to call any one of them husband.”
The queen fainted.
King Alfred slowly nodded. “I need time to think. Let us adjourn to the Hall of Ceremonies.”
He glared at Sarco, and Sarco felt the seriousness of his stare all the way to his toes. “No matter what decision I make in the next little while, this day you will wed one of my daughters.”
He turned to leave, then as an afterthought, twisted back around and pointed toward four guards and then to the unconscious form of his wife. “Bring her along. The queen does so love an event, and I wouldn’t want her to miss a moment of this evening.”
****
Lark squeezed her sisters tighter as they huddled together in the darkness. She strained to hear even the slightest sound from the outside world. There was none, only cold silence.
Ally was the first to break it. “It’s been an awfully long time since Adan was here. What do you think is going on? I don’t want to marry a troll, really, I don’t,” she cried.
Lark patted Ally’s back and stroked her hair.
“I won’t let that happen, I promise.” Aryanna heaved a deep breath. “I’ll do whatever I have to do to appease Mother.”
“Even marry Sarco?” Audrey asked the question Lark was too afraid to ask herself.
Though she couldn’t see her sister’s response, Lark could feel it as Aryanna nodded her head before she spoke in a voice no louder than a whisper, “Yes, even that.”
The door to the room burst open and in marched a full contingent of guards. One held up a parchment.
“Princess Aryanna Zahanna Clemencia Hammerstrike, you’ve been summoned to the Hall of Ceremonies.”
The sisters held onto each other as Aryanna asked, “Will they be allowed to accompany me?”
The guard shook his head. “I’m sorry, Princess. The decree is just for you. We cannot allow anyone else to leave the room. The others must wait here until called for.”
The Academy Volume One Page 60