by Tara Brown
“A tour?” She was skeptical.
“There’s something I understand you wanted to see, and I would like to be the one to show you.” He leaned against the wall, seeming so much bigger than before. He was taller, standing up straight, full of vitality and health. Not as tall or broad as Ivor but seeming larger than he had been only days before.
“Shall I find Hilde?”
“No.” Prince Landon laughed. “I think it better if we go alone.” He said it innocently but the wording made Lenny apprehensive. “I’d like it to be a surprise.”
“A surprise? All right,” she agreed as she walked to him, slapping her legs. Scar got up and followed her, with Ollie joining at her side. “Big night tonight,” Lenny remarked, changing the subject to hide that she was a bit uneasy about being alone with the prince while going to an undisclosed location.
“Indeed.” He didn’t sound happy to be reminded of it. “The week of mourning will end with my coronation. I keep thinking it’s wrong, a mistake. A dream perhaps.”
“I wish that were so,” Lenny agreed. “I feel terrible about your father as if I’m somehow responsible.”
“Why is that?” he asked cautiously.
“Wen is my closest friend. His mother was evil all along and I didn’t realize early enough,” she confessed as they wandered out of the suites and into a long hallway.
“How could you have?”
“I don’t know but my sister and brother and Wen would all be here if I had. And your father.” The guilt was eating at her. “If I’d been faster or cleverer.”
“Lenny, as far as I’m able to ascertain, you’re not the sort of person who would watch her family or friends suffer needlessly. If you’d been able to prevent this, I believe you would have.”
“That’s true.” She nodded along as they made their way outside into the gardens. “The grounds here are lovely,” She added to the conversation, worried about awkward silence.
“The hounds love it,” he said fondly, watching them run about. “Have they met Henry?”
“Yes, several times. He and Ollie get on well, but Scar doesn’t enjoy playing as much, and Henry is fast and—”
“Naughty is the word you’re searching for.” Prince Landon chuckled. “Henry is naughty. Not as bad as the dog Ivor had before him. He was especially badly behaved. Always digging in the garden, following his nose. Ivor consistently has mischievous dogs. I suppose that says something about his character,” he joked with a laugh.
Lenny smiled. “How long has Ivor lived here with you?”
“A long time.” He cleared his throat and changed the subject, not wishing to betray anything Ivor preferred kept secret, “Have you been to the night market yet, on the eastern side of the city?”
“I haven’t.” Lenny worried she had pried by asking a question about Ivor. But he was all she thought about. A week of him avoiding her had chipped away at her heart.
“My cousin will have to take you. It’s splendid. I’ve snuck there a few times, dressed as a crippled peasant.” He scoffed. “I suppose those days are over now that I will be crowned king.” His words trailed off, suggesting a lot to be desired in the new position.
“You sound like Lord Ivor,” she remarked.
“Yes.” He glanced at her. “Neither of us is very fond of being forced into anything.” His gaze stayed with hers, his eyes striking her with yearning and an emotion she didn’t know how to read. “We’re going this way.” He led her toward what she had assumed were the stables, but it was much too large, even for the castle grounds.
“What is it?” she asked, wondering if he would reveal it to her.
“These are the royal guards’ training grounds and competition arena.” Prince Landon held out his hand, showing her the massive yard before them. It was built similarly to a stadium, an enormous dirt field surrounded by benches that rose up into the sky. Thousands of people could watch whatever games were provided below. There were dark alcoves under the seats, doorways leading to hallways she had an inkling to explore. Ollie and Scar ran about, sniffing the ground aggressively.
“You wanted me to see this?” Lenny asked, confused about how he would have known she wished to. Had his mother said something or Ivor?
“My mother hopes you will eventually be able to train the men for the lupine attacks. She said there is no warrior amongst our armies that fights with your skill.” Landon grinned in disbelief. “I’d like to see for myself if that’s all right with you.”
“You wish me to fight?” Lenny was confused. “I’m afraid I don’t have skill.” She laughed nervously. “I’ll need to train first.”
“I have heard differently, though Hilde and Ivor won’t discuss it. It’s something I simply must see for myself. I have instructed a few of the guards to meet us here this morning so you could demonstrate.”
Lenny lifted her furrowed brow to Prince Landon’s. “I saved your life. You said you were in my debt and this is how you repay me? Bring me to the guards’ training facility to have me whipped?” She was no longer joking.
But he took her words as jest and laughed. “My mother said you are a fierce warrior. I insist, please. And do not hold back. Showcase your talents.”
“It’s the eve of your coronation. Is this really the best time to do this?” She folded her arms, uncertain how else to avoid fighting. Ollie sniffed the ground around them but Scar nudged Lenny.
“I beg of you, show me what my mother speaks of.” His eyes glistened with delight and curiosity. “Though you saved my life, I scarcely believe it to be so. This would make my coronation, to see a true lady warrior.”
“As I said, I don’t have skills, Prince Landon. I’m merely”—she paused, not sure what to say—“an aberration.”
“By all means, showcase that. These men are mine. And if they did speak on any bizarre behavior, no one would believe them.” He smiled wider but he didn’t budge. Lenny gulped and turned back to the dirt training arena. This had to be a joke.
But a man she recognized strutted across the yard with others behind him she didn’t recognize.
Her insides twisted into knots.
Though it was healed, her shoulder ached just seeing his face.
Scar sensed Lenny’s apprehension and growled, lowering herself as Ollie followed her lead.
“I understand you’ve met Banks,” Prince Landon muttered. “I requested him in particular for this task, which is why I said not to hold back.”
Lenny wanted to run away from the cruel man, but a fire lit inside her at the sight of him. The memory of his treatment ignited fury. She imagined he treated many people this way, and she was certain her skills would surface with him threatening more pain.
Her feet moved forward before her brain agreed. Her need for vengeance was in already committed to making him hurt the way he had her.
Scar and Ollie stayed at her side as she moved toward the group of men. Smug grins flashed across their faces when they saw her, but nerves were there also upon spotting the dogs at her side, each nearly as tall as her chest.
“Ollie and Scar can’t fight, Lenny,” Prince Landon said softly as they walked to the men. “And you must leave your swords and take a practice sword instead.” He pointed at the wooden ones leaning against the wall to the right.
“My prince, there’s been a misunderstanding,” Banks barked. “This is a lady. I understand your confusion by her dressing as an urchin, but I assure you, she is your sister-in-law-to-be.”
“Are you scared of a girl, Banks?”
“No, Your Grace.” Banks stopped, causing the men behind him to stop too. He folded his thick arms over his leather armor.
“As I understand it, she owes you.” Prince Landon chuckled.
“No disrespect, Prince Landon, but is this a joke?” Banks asked, glimpsing back at the men behind him who laughed. “You want us to whip this girl for a second time? Ivor nearly took my head last time. My blood is likely still on the gravel.” He pointed behind him.
Lenny’s jaw dropped. Lord Ivor had seemed upset at her treatment, but she was unaware he had avenged her.
“She wishes to fight with you,” Prince Landon spoke clearly.
“You haven’t had enough?” Banks asked Lenny, laughing at her.
She was done listening. She walked to the wall and dropped her swords in the dirt and picked up two wooden ones. They weighed a ton and the grip was too broad for her small hands, but they would have to do.
She didn’t speak, she turned and strode back to the men.
Scar and Ollie continued to growl. “Sit.” She pointed to the side. Both hounds gave her a look, refusing to move. “Sit!” she commanded.
The men laughed. Ollie’s lips lifted at them, calming the laughter.
“Now!” Lenny used the tone they both obeyed no matter what. Both hounds moved but neither wanted to. Their eyes were fixed on the five men. Lips in a sneer over their fangs. Low growls leaving their throats.
It was a warning and not one man took it lightly.
“You want us to fight her in front of her wolfhounds and the moment she loses, they eat us?” one of the men from the back asked. “My wife is expecting me home for dinner, Your Grace.”
“No.” Lenny smiled ruthlessly. “The dogs won’t move unless I tell them to.” She lifted the two wooden swords. She imagined every single person these cruel men had hurt was surrounding her. They were here, watching, seeing justice being served.
The small hairs on her arms lifted as she shivered with need, certain the powers had come to her.
“Is this truly what you wish, my lord?” Banks asked Prince Landon, annoyance and anger in his tone.
“I do.”
Banks turned to the men behind him. “Guess I’ll go first. We can get this over with.” He focused on Lenny, lifting his hands.
“You don’t want to get a sword?” Prince Landon mocked him.
“I’d rather she had the advantage, Your Grace.” Banks had lost his humor on the subject. “Come on, girl. Let’s finish this since we both know I’m going to whip you and Ivor is going to murder me.”
Lenny’s arms ached from holding up the swords, but she didn’t show it. She waited for him to move or for her magic to come and take over.
But neither happened.
The man, who had savagely wounded her, didn’t budge.
And nothing came from Lenny except common sense which tried to convince her this was ridiculous.
She agreed with the whisper in the back of her mind as the standoff grew more awkward.
“Fight!” Prince Landon screamed, making them all jump.
Banks grunted with dislike but moved forward, forcing himself to come at Lenny. She backed away, unsure of what to do. She swung her sword pathetically at him, but he blocked it and took it from her. He swung and she leaped back.
The hounds barked, drawing Banks’ attention. His fear of those dogs was obvious. But it didn’t help Lenny. Banks swung the sword halfheartedly, hitting Lenny in the arm. She winced but managed to jump back with the blow.
“Lenny, this is not how I imagined it would go.” Prince Landon laughed.
“I tried to tell you!” she shouted, out of breath and glaring at the young prince. As she looked away, Banks took the chance to strike. He hit her hard in the stomach, making her double over. Both dogs leaped forward, snarling, but she raised an arm, choking out her words, “Stay!” She coughed, wheezing an inhale from the wound.
Banks hit her in the back, knocking her to the ground. “If I’m going to get beat anyway, I better make it worthwhile.” He laughed bitterly, enjoying his win. He liked hurting her, maybe all women. But even that disgusting fact didn’t bring the magic.
Lenny sputtered in the dirt, inhaling dust. The passion she felt didn’t inspire anything beyond anger, empty magicless anger.
Banks’ boots crunched on the gravel as he paced in front of her. He drew back a leg, about to kick her in the same spot he’d hit her with the sword. Lenny braced for the impact, certain he would break her ribs this time.
“Stop!” a voice she knew shouted.
Lenny closed her eyes, barely able to breathe but certain she was safe now. Lord Ivor had hardly spoken to her since she’d saved Prince Landon, but he wouldn’t see her harmed. “What in the gods is going on here? Landon!” He was furious.
“Mother said she could fight,” Prince Landon’s voice had lost its humor. He was confused. “She’s supposed to be the best fighter anyone has ever seen. Better than you.”
“She is! But it doesn’t work like that, you fool! She has to be scared, terrified. It comes as an instinct, not a skill.” Lord Ivor was more than furious. His words left his lips with fiery disgust, “And you!” He walked to Lenny and snatched the sword from her limp and dirty hand on the ground, not bothering to check if she was all right. “Haven’t you done enough to her?”
The wooden sword made a sound, a thwack. And then another. Banks screamed. Lenny lifted her head to see Lord Ivor beating Banks senseless with the sword as Landon shook his head and walked to Lenny.
“Forgive me, Lenny.” He offered her his hand. “I should have believed you. I thought you were being modest.”
She didn’t take his hand but pushed herself up on her own, groaning as her lungs attempted a deep inhale but failed. Both hounds came running, Scar sniffing and inspecting as Ollie growled at everyone, including the prince.
She gasped as she stood, dusting herself off before placing a hand over the ribs.
“Gods, Lenny, you carry fancy elven swords but can’t use them?” Prince Landon asked over the noise of Ivor now hitting all the men, reminding her of a bar brawl.
Ivor struck one in the cheek but another grabbed and spun him, hitting Ivor in the stomach. He grunted with the impact, drawing more than Lenny’s gaze.
The winded feeling was gone.
The pain a distant memory.
All she saw was Ivor in trouble.
Drawn to it like a moth to a flame, she walked to the fight slowly.
“Lenny, wait! It’s always fair game here. If you interfere, they will hit you again,” Prince Landon shouted, trying to grab her arm but the shift came as Ivor took another hit. Whatever it was inside her, fired up, meeting the fury and humiliation and need for justice and letting it fuel the rage.
Lenny ran, her dogs at either side as they sprinted for the brawl. Lord Ivor threw a man but took a hit from another.
“Lenny!” Prince Landon yelled, panicking, but he might as well have been fifty leagues away from her. “Ivor!”
Lenny ignored him and jumped into the middle of the uneven fight, kicking a man in the chest and knocking him back. She grabbed the arm of another man, as he lifted to hit Ivor, and spun him. She rolled him over her back as she ducked and flopped him on top of the other man. She landed on his back, punching him in the ribs until his screams became wheezes.
A hand grabbed her to lift her. She brought her knee up as she spun, hitting him in the side and flipping him over her leg as he doubled over. She added force to the flip and shoved his face in the dirt.
Ivor hit Banks in the face, making a gushing sound.
Another man moved behind Ivor, reaching into his boot to draw a knife. Lenny saw the glint of the blade and dove at him, taking him and his knife to the ground. She placed her elbow on his throat and put her foot on his arm, pinning the knife and his hand.
He fought, hitting her in the ribs with his free hand. Crunching down on his pinned arm, she half jumped and placed her other foot on his free arm, pinning it as well, though it freed his neck from her chokehold.
He screamed and raged as she sat on his chest but stopped when both hounds breathed down on his face with hot fury rolling in low as an angry growl.
Banks fell hard, knocked out when he hit the ground.
Ivor gasped for air, his cheek bleeding and the backs of his hands gushing blood. He spun around, furious, searching for Lenny but lost some of his rage when he found her. He sc
owled as she grabbed a knife from the ground and stabbed it into the middle of a man’s hand as he screamed.
Ivor sighed, “Lenny! No weapons in the arena.”
“It’s his weapon, Ivor. I was just giving it back,” she growled her answer.
Ivor laughed bitterly realizing he had triggered her rage by getting hit, muttering to himself, “Gods save me from this insanity.” His violent glower lifted to his cousin as he marched back to where Lenny was sitting on the man screaming about his knife wound. “So you see, Cousin, you have to make her afraid for someone else and she will fight to the death. Not hers, of course.” Lord Ivor held his hands out, displaying the five men lying on the ground. He had only knocked out one, the other four were hers.
“Come on, Lenny, let poor Wiggins up.” Ivor grabbed her arm and forced Lenny to her feet, carrying her roughly until she squirmed free. “Did that satisfy your curiosity, Cousin?” Ivor was vile in tone and mood.
“It didn’t, I’m afraid.” Prince Landon hadn’t enjoyed the show. He had pictured it playing out differently in his mind. He hated Banks and Wiggins and the rest of that crew. They were cruel men his father had given far too much freedom.
Lenny being a master fighter and swordswoman but also magical, made him think she would teach them a lesson. He had pictured her calling down lightning and using the forces of nature to help as in the old stories.
But that wasn’t what happened.
She bled like a normal person, she limped from her injuries now that the fight was over, and both her hounds appeared traumatized. Yes, she’d been impressive as she unleashed, but it wasn’t enjoyable to witness. It was savage and not something he hoped to ever see again, particularly the knifing.
“This was cruel and irresponsible, Landon. The next time you want a show, you fight in these pits!” Lord Ivor towered over his cousin, shaking with anger.
Landon swallowed hard, nodding and picking up her swords and belt for her, noting the careful skill that had gone into making them. “You’re correct, Ivor. I was horribly mistaken. And I suppose you do have to train with the guards, Lenny, so you may learn to fight with the aptitude these swords deserve,” Prince Landon offered as he handed her the swords and the belt. “I’m terribly sorry, to both of you, for not listening.” His eyes were filled with worry when their stares met.