Auguries of Dawn

by Peyton Reynolds

With only eight men remaining in the Challenge, the four duels making up the fourth round were all set to occur today, between the hours of Seventh and Tenth. Having begun feeling weary of it all since the last round, Nathon turned his eyes to the field, watching as the royal jester came forth to begin withdrawing names from the giant goblet at center field.

  Due to their early arrival they’d secured excellent seating, second row at mid-field. Now rejoined by Sabian Reif, their party was reinstated to five, although Nathon would not have been surprised to see them joined by the warlords sometime throughout the day. Their two groups had gotten on well the afternoon before, seeming to solidify not only Taleb’s plans of journeying to their keep, but also young Baiel Maves’ evident fascination with the diviner. In fact, he’d even accomplished the impossible by prying Madi away from Oliveah’s side for a short time the evening before for a private supper.

  Why Madi was proving so hesitant to leave Oliveah at all was still a mystery Nathon hadn’t been able to solve, and only one of many swirling about Aralexia this week. Oliveah herself had been acting incredibly strange these past days, and while he knew much of this was due to her worry over Taleb and himself being entered in the Challenge, he was no longer willing to accept this as the sole reason. Her actions of several days ago, demanding the location of the mage, still hadn’t been adequately explained to him, and he was beginning to believe she’d somehow gotten herself mired in something dangerous. But whatever the answers, it was his intention to confront her about them sometime today.

  Coming from his thoughts, he suddenly realized he’d missed the drawing of the first duel’s combatants. Taleb then quickly gave him the information he’d missed by way of furiously stating his distaste for the matter.

  “Another Justice officer!” he issued, shaking his head. “This totals three I have now been paired against!”

  Oliveah turned to him with an expressionless look. “Preferable to three mad Kathwein,” she issued flatly.

  “Not especially,” Taleb returned. “At least the Kathwein made for an interesting fight, albeit a surprising one.”

  She blew out a breath, exasperated.

  Nathon didn’t comment, turning his attention back to the field. Unlike himself, Taleb’s enthusiasm for the competition only seemed to be growing where his own was waning. But then, Taleb had always been possessed of a desire to prove himself where Nathon never had been. As much as the two of them had in common, their differences were becoming quite prevalent now that they’d been freed from their slave-term and allowed the chance to regain their freedom.

  “Rydin Kale!” the royal jester was now calling.

  Nathon frowned and exchanged a quick glance with Taleb. The Jennite continued to mystify the both of them; not only were his victories on the field utterly confounding, but they’d also had no choice but to give up their efforts at following him about the city to learn his business. This was due to the strange occurrences that kept erupting to deter them. Once, after shadowing him for two blocks, an angry horse pulled loose of its rider and created a small panic in the street, allowing Kale the opportunity to slip away in the resulting melee. Another time, Nathon had chanced upon the man, only to follow him for half a block before a pile of bricks stacked upon a nearby scaffolding seemingly fell of their own accord to shower into the street below. There were no serious injuries, but Nathon had then lost Kale after stopping to help those frightened by the occurrence. No explanation for the matter had been found.

  Whether Rydin Kale was in fact responsible for any of the business to have occurred in Tyrell the final night of Ardin’s Pride was still in question, but at this point Nathon certainly wouldn’t be surprised to learn that he was. He and Taleb had now reluctantly reached the conclusion that they had little recourse but to simply take their suspicions to the Legion at the end of the week. They would let Justice deal with the problem, whatever the truth of Rydin Kale turned out to be.

  So long as Kale made it alive to the end of the week, of course. The jester had now called the next name, pitting Kale against the Dhan’Marian criminal most in Aralexia believed to be a rapist and murderer. There remained little question this would prove a most savage duel, whatever the result.

  The day’s third fight would feature Gliddion Xaz, brutal killer of Eugan Reif as well as his other two opponents, against the last knight remaining in the games. Nathon very much hoped the knight would prove enough to best the Balshan, but it was a grim sort of optimism.

  Through the process of elimination, Nathon knew his own opponent before the jester got around to pulling the final two names from the goblet. It was with relief that he realized he would be fighting the warlord Baiel Maves, for it meant this would be his final duel. He held absolutely no illusions that his skills could provide a victory, and was content to know that while he was destined to lose, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about Baiel trying to kill him in the process. It was, in all honesty, the best finish for himself he could have hoped for.

  Taleb was grinning at him. “I was hoping to face Baiel myself, but not until the final round,” he said.

  “I will not regret my exit today,” Nathon replied, meaning it.

  Oliveah, wearing a look of great relief, suddenly narrowed her eyes and turned to Taleb. “I can only pray you’ll draw him next.”

  Taleb’s smile widened. “Clearly you are anticipating my victory today, then.”

  “I’m refusing to entertain any other possibility,” she returned with a resigned sigh. “You have proven yourself against the members of the Legion, but I would not wish to see you stand against the Balshan, Jennite, or criminal. Which may very well happen should you win today and not draw Baiel tomorrow.”

  Nathon tended to agree with Oliveah on this. While Taleb had so far displayed a great skill in the competition, it would take more than what he’d so far shown to best any of the three she’d just named. Particularly as all three had already proven themselves ruthless killers.

  Taleb, however, now wore a look of calculation. “Actually,” he began slowly, making a quick glance at Sabian, “I’m rather hoping to draw the Balshan.”

  Oliveah closed her eyes and shook her head, but Nathon was unsurprised. After Eugan’s savage murder, he too had been looking to dispense some vengeance, although whether he was actually capable of dispensing it upon Xaz was a question he couldn’t answer. Taleb, though, did not seem possessed of the same doubt.

  Sabian, in the eerie manner that was common of him, was now looking back at Taleb seriously. “Eugan hopes for the same,” he said.

  Nathon quickly saw he was not the only one to find this comment unsettling. Oliveah and Madi appeared startled, and then sorrowful as their grief was torn anew, and Taleb was fidgeting as though feeling chills running up and down his spine. Nathon was experiencing those same chills himself, realizing Sabian’s words implied Eugan’s spirit remained with them even now.

  “Well,” Taleb finally replied, clearing his throat, “be sure to tell him that I intend to avenge him in any manner possible.”

  Sabian accepted this with a single and silent nod.

  Desperate to lift the pall of sorrow now hanging over them, Nathon scrambled for a lighter topic. This proved more difficult that it perhaps should have, and in the end the conversation fell back to Lutarre Keep. Taleb seemed incredibly anxious to be on his way there, and Nathon watched Oliveah carefully as Taleb professed this enthusiasm.

  Knowing the conclusion of the week would, at last, bring with it her own decision regarding to the two of them, he was seeking any hints to her thoughts. Listening to Taleb’s future plans, her look had turned to one of resigned but steely determination. He wasn’t certain if this implied she had decided to wait for him, or simply wasn’t looking forward to him going. Much of Oliveah’s thoughts this week remained a mystery, and he was anxious to receive an answer to at least this one. He was ready to move on with his life, one way or the other.

&nb
sp; Slated to appear in the day’s first duel, Taleb started down to the field a few minutes before Seventh-hour. Nathon waited until he’d completely vanished into the crowd before turning to take in Oliveah.

  “I would like to speak to you alone, once the day’s fights are over,” he said quietly.

  A guarded look instantly sprang into her eyes, but she nodded. “Very well,” she agreed.

  He turned back to the field and watched Taleb and the Justice officer stride onto it from opposite sides, both moving to take their positions as the bell-ringer called them forth. Nathon felt Oliveah tense beside him, but she’d evidently become accustomed enough to these situations that she no longer degenerated into a state of total panic. He was glad he’d be putting her through no more of this stress himself, and had quite honestly been guilt-ridden the entire week for having done so in the first place. He was secretly hoping for Taleb to now be ousted unharmed so that they could all finish out the week in relative peace before going their separate ways. He wasn’t foolish enough to think this scenario likely, however.

  The match began a moment later, seeing Taleb quickly taking the offensive. By his comments of earlier, Nathon knew he was expecting a relatively easy victory here, and by the looks of it he was simply impatient to have it done. But this Justice officer, the last of the Legion’s members still a part of the Challenge, had not made it this far by accident, and he wasted no time in making it clear that he would not fall easily.

  After several minutes seeing neither combatant making any significant progress, the officer managed to land a strike to Taleb’s forearm. The wound drew blood but did not appear serious, and it certainly didn’t slow Taleb down a lick. In fact, it appeared to do just the opposite, angering him enough to intensify his efforts. Knowing him as well as he did, Nathon was unsurprised by the reaction.

  Taleb landed a mark, gouging his opponent’s thigh. Now limping, the officer steadfastly kept to his movements, but now lacked his speed of earlier. Taleb exploited this nicely, dancing about the officer while engaging in a series of furious blows that were more or less harmless as he angled for the perfect position. When he found it, the officer was struggling to keep pace, and reacted just a moment too late. Closing in upon the man’s already wounded leg, Taleb brought his sword down and across to execute a successful slash that opened the officer’s calf. The man dropped instantly.

  The audience roared, apparently quite happy to see the last representative of Justice expelled from the Challenge. Beside him, Oliveah was relaxing in relief, but muttering furiously about Taleb now advancing to the next round. As already discussed, the selection of opponents to be found in the fifth round would not, save for Maves, be of a favorable nature.

  Taleb took his time in returning to them, for he’d apparently been seen to by the Healers before meeting up with the three warlords and their young squire somewhere along the way. It was a tight squeeze, but all managed to find a place on the bench, with the warlords’ very presence causing a few of the more respectful citizens to dislodge themselves and move off in search of seating elsewhere.

  Before lowering himself to the bench, Nathon observed Baiel turn his head to take him in, presumably in an effort to gauge his reaction to their pairing in the days’ final duel. Nathon met his gaze and simply gave him a nod. Seeing there was no bitterness to be found, Baiel returned the gesture and dropped himself down next to Madi.

  The next duel was Kale’s, and it appeared the members of their own party weren’t the only ones looking forward to it with mixed emotions. The Jennite’s victories now presented a very puzzling string of circumstances, and the crowd appeared equally puzzled over how to react to them.

  Kale’s first round duel, against a Justice officer, had resulted in death during the span of roughly five heartbeats. It had been a brutal start to the competition, but, in retrospect, the most conventional of Kale’s wins thus far.

  His second round fight had been besieged by a violent rainstorm, resulting in a bolt of lightning coming extremely near to ending his opponent for him. For whatever reason, Kale had left this man alive.

  His third round duel, just yesterday, had proven the most odd yet. After some investigation, instigated by the royal council and carried out by the gathered Healers, it was now common knowledge that the reason behind the knight’s bizarre behavior was that an errant bee had flown into his eye and delivered a sting. While incredibly strange, none could deny the possibly of such a circumstance occurring, so Kale’s victory hadn’t been contested. Why he’d ultimately decided to kill the knight remained anyone’s guess.

  Left only to speculate on what sorts of strangeness Kale’s next duel might produce, the crowd grew oddly quiet as he and the Dhan’Marian criminal approached center field after the bell-ringer’s call. There next came an abnormally long pause, and only due to the close proximity of their seats could Nathon see why. Evidently, Kale and the Dhan’Marian were exchanging words, and they didn’t appear to be pleasant ones.

  All modicums of official proceedings then vanished when, clearly not bothered to wait for the bell, the Dhan’Marian raised his sword and delivered a furious slash. As the bell-ringer threw himself to the ground in a desperate attempt to save his own life, Kale, likely not expecting the blow, managed to back-step quickly enough to keep his chest from being sliced open. His retaliation was swift and completely without hesitation.

  Raising his arm to take the next strike on the flat of his blade, he swept the enemy steel aside and then brought his weapon up and about, its point sinking in beneath the criminal’s chin. He continued driving it up until it appeared from the top of the man’s skull.

  Grimacing, Nathon looked away, quickly seeing he was not the only one to do so. Oliveah had buried her face in his shoulder, and further down, Madi was bent almost double in her seat, probably trying to keep her breakfast down. Baiel had a comforting hand on her back, but was still staring at the field.

  Others were proving to be not so strong of stomach, for, much like the decapitation in the first round, the savagery upon the field was now causing physical illness in many. Scores of men were now moving to escort their women from the forum, while others continued to issue exclamations of shock. The majority, however, were keeping to their seats.

  Back on the field, Kale seemed to be having difficulty removing his blade from his opponent’s skull. The jester had neared but was keeping his distance, watching as the Dhan’Marian’s body jerked with every tug Kale made on his sword. Finally the weapon pulled free, and the criminal’s body slumped lifelessly to the ground.

  The jester took up his approach and quickly saw to his duty of officially declaring Kale the victor. It didn’t appear there would be any penalty for beginning the fight before the bell, and since the Dhan’Marian had already paid the ultimate price for his infraction, Nathon supposed there would be no point in making a fuss over the matter now. Kale strode from the field a minute later, his gait casual and unconcerned over the uproar of revulsion his brutality had caused.

  It seemed to take the entire hour following for the crowd to regain its jovial air. Unfortunately for the audience and their calming stomachs, however, the third duel of the day continued the savagery begun by Kale. While all, by this time, were expecting a kill to result from this match, and most likely by Xaz, the Balshan took those expectations to a new level once he quickly gained the upper hand over the knight he faced. Grateful Oliveah and Madi had wisely retreated to the marketplace for this round, left in the company of their troupe-mate Reavis, Nathon watched as Xaz utterly dominated the knight, disarming him quickly and then gouging him in numerous places before snapping his spine, an act that had become the Balshan’s signature move in these fights. The knight died screaming, as had all the Balshan’s victims, including Eugan.

  In the aftermath of this, Nathon overheard the warlord Geves telling Baiel that, should he get the chance, their order certainly wouldn’t frown upon the killing of such a
man. Baiel seemed to agree, claiming that such an act would only be doing all of Dhanen’Mar a service.

  Nathon then took in Taleb, curious to see if he was still as anxious to face Xaz as he’d been claiming earlier. He was pleased to note Taleb now looking at least slightly apprehensive. Certainly, if the Patrons were kind, Kale and Xaz would be drawn to face each other tomorrow, and the two of them could hack each other to pieces for all he would care. But was it to fall any other way, the circumstances would indeed be concerning.

  When it came time for their own fight, Nathon and Baiel descended down to the field together. Nathon was feeling nothing but an impeding relief to be done with this entire affair, with his only remaining worry centered upon Taleb and what the following day might bring. For himself, Nathon felt only a looming sense of peace.

  They took their position, crossed blades, and waited for the gong.

  All in all, the duel lasted perhaps three minutes, and Nathon was well aware that Baiel was going easy on him for the entire duration. Finding no sense of injured pride at losing to a warlord, he turned to the younger man, panting, once Baiel had effectively sent his blade spinning away into the grass.

  “Now that I’ve fought you,” he said, “I realize how truly skilled you are. You talent is astounding.”

  Baiel, most likely immune to such observations by this time, shrugged off the comment. “And now I’ve fought you, I see you have a great potential. Are you certain I cannot convince you to journey back to the keep with us?”

  Nathon grinned as he stooped to collect his sword. “I appreciate the offer, but I have no desire to make War the center of my existence. So long as I am able to protect those who matter most to me, it is enough.”

  Baiel accepted this with a nod, and then turned to the approaching jester.

  Nathon left the field to a generous cheer from the crowd, not sorry that this would in all likelihood be the last time he would ever receive such attention. He was very much looking forward to returning to the vineyard, glad for the experience this week had brought him but not anxious to prolong it. But while he was out of this now, Taleb was not, and that still left him with a considerable amount of concern. He was beginning to gain a firsthand understanding of what the two of them had been putting Oliveah through all week, and this realization made him feel terrible.

  She was waiting for him on the sidelines, curiously alone. He approached her with an inquisitive look.

  “You wished to speak with me, yes? I told Madi and Taleb I would see them back at the inn later,” she replied to his unspoken question as he drew near.

  Probably suspecting he planned on interrogating her over her actions of the past several days, he appreciated the fact that she appeared to be facing the conversation head-on rather than trying to avoid it.

  She threaded her arm through his and they started into the crowd now surging into the marketplace, neither speaking until they were several blocks from the forum. With no particular destination in mind, they meandered through the late-afternoon streets.

  Finally he broke the silence.

  “Oliveah, you need to tell me what you’ve gotten yourself into,” he began. “I am neither blind nor deaf, and clearly you and Madi have found some sort of trouble here in Aralexia.”

  She gave a small smile. “I knew you would come to me with this sooner or later. What have you managed to piece together?”

  In other words, tell me what you’ve already figured out, so I know how much I actually need to admit to, he thought. Oliveah was clever, but he would not let her evade him by the use of such maneuvers. He made this clear by dropping a look down to her.

  She blew out a sigh. “All right. Danetria Savannon made a divination that Madi’s life was in danger while she was here in Aralexia, but also that she couldn’t avoid making a presence this week.”

  Nathon thought about this for a moment. It certainly explained why Madi had been keeping her tell-tale Savannon features and hair hidden, but much still remained in question.

  “Why is her presence in Aralexia necessary?” he questioned.

  Oliveah paused and glanced about, presumably to ensure no one was within earshot. “All we know for certain is that, from here, Madi is meant to depart with Sabian Reif. It was revealed that he will lead her to one of the lost Catalyst Stones.”

  Shocked, Nathon barely avoided a stumble. “One of the Stones has been found? After all this time?”

  “We’re hoping it’s the first.”

  While this was a decidedly huge revelation, he forced himself to consider further.

  “Why did you not just tell Taleb and I? You must realize we would protect Madi with our lives.”

  “Well,” Oliveah began dryly, looking up at him, “that had been my idea before the two of you decided to enter the Challenge. But I could not risk distracting you.”

  He winced slightly.

  “Danetria Savannon also claimed Madi would be safe so long as she remained near to me, which is why we’ve not been separated much this week,” Oliveah further claimed.

  Nathon looked at her, alarmed. “Then I should not have taken you from her now.”

  Oliveah frowned faintly and shook her head. “She doesn’t imagine any danger will reach her when she is with Baiel. I think she saw something of him when they first met which assured her of this.”

  “What else could she have possibly needed to see? Anyone who’s watched him fight wouldn’t dare try harming her in his presence.”

  Oliveah nodded again.

  “But I still don’t see what any of this has to do with the mage,” he then went on, unable to fit this piece into his mental puzzle.

  “Madi was also instructed to expect assistance from the Thieves. We still aren’t certain how this will unfold, but once we determined Knoxx Alvik to be our likeliest ally we figured we’d best make contact with him.”

  Nathon cocked an eyebrow, now sensing lies. “And how did he receive this information?”

  “We didn’t explain it to him. But we are on favorable terms with him now, should any need for his services arise.”

  “The day you asked me for his location, you said a life was in danger.”

  “Yes,” she nodded, “Madi’s.”

  “You said a life was in danger that day.”

  She paused. “I needed you not to argue. I thought the urgency would prevent you from doing so.”

  “So that was a lie?”

  “Yes.”

  “I think you’re lying to me now.”

  She drew to a stop, unthreaded her arm, and turned to face him. Silently she stared up at him for a moment, then said, “I’m not lying, exactly, but there is more to this matter, information that I simply cannot reveal. Not at this time, anyway. But I must see Madi alive through the next two and a half days, and do so while praying Taleb isn’t killed in the next round of play. You can help me, or you can stay out of my way. But please don’t make this harder.”

  He regarded her, wanting to ask a hundred more questions. Stifling the urge, he instead said, “You have told me enough—for now. Of course I will help you.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t see why you’re so concerned, though,” he went on, as they took up their slow pace while rounding onto the next block. “I’m of no doubt that informing Baiel of this threat will all but eradicate it.”

  She shook her head, then glanced about them again. “That’s the trouble—Madi was warned that any reading she gives for the king would result in her death. It’s therefore been our goal to avoid any chance of this happening by keeping her identity as a diviner hidden.”

  Nathon suddenly understood. Obviously, it was the content of what Madi would see while giving this reading that would endanger her life, and there would be little even the warlords could do should the king order her killed.

  “Get her out of Aralexia, Oliveah!” he hissed. “Sabian has been with us all week, wh
y can the two of them not just depart now?”

  “Because her great-grandmother insisted that she must remain for the full week!” she came back, incredibly frustrated. “Also, there is a third person meant to accompany them on their journey to the Stone, one to act as their guard. I am supposed to determine this person, but have yet to discover even a clue to his identity!”

  Nathon remained silent the next few minutes. It was obvious Oliveah was extremely agitated with herself for not yet locating this man, and with knowing that Madi’s life continued to be in danger every day she remained in Aralexia. Between this and worrying about Taleb and himself all week, it was no wonder she’d been acting so strangely.

  “I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with this alone,” he said, drawing to a pause again. “Had I to do it over, I would never have entered those games.”

  Stopping, she turned and stared at him a moment, and then completely deflated against his chest, sagging into him as though all the energy had fled from her body. He raised his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

  “Tell me what I can do,” he said, after holding her a long moment.

  “Just help me get through the next two days,” came her muffled reply before she pulled back to look up at him with weary eyes. “And then take me home.”

  He stopped, his look turning intent. “Home?” he repeated. “With me?”

  “With you,” she nodded. “But you mustn’t say anything of this yet. Not until I’ve spoken to Taleb.”

  And she wouldn’t do that until Taleb had seen his last fight. Two more days and all would be finished here.

  He dropped his head down to rest against hers. “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you too,” she said softly, her voice sounding as though it was drifting in from faraway.

  Chapter 42