11 – A Yellow Rose

  Victor stood in his ready room, stewing. His mind was troubled because he wasn’t eager to slaughter a couple of iron-rankers whose only crime against him was a desire to defend their queen and their homeland. He knew he was being prideful with such thoughts; any decent advisor—and he had more than a few—would tell him that he was saving thousands of lives by having this fight, that champions paid the price to keep armies from dying. It still didn’t feel right.

  “Chica,” he said, twisting his gauntlet-clad hands on Lifedrinker’s haft, “Am I being a cocky asshole when I say I don’t think these poor pendejos will be able to touch me?”

  You speak honestly and with a heart that bleeds for the foes you slay. You’re right to warn fools away; how can a pack grow strong if every challenger is torn to bits? Still, if fools from other packs will challenge your might, you must set an example. Let us shower their blood far and wide so others will learn caution.

  “You sound…like Tes.” Wasn’t Lifedrinker saying essentially the same thing? Was it time to instill some doubt in the minds of the champions of the empire? Would a decisive victory now save on bloodshed later?

  The dragon woman is wise and beautiful. My wisdom has a sharper edge, Battle-heart. I will guide you to victory with my blade. I will part the flesh and bones of your foes, and I will curse the souls of any who wrong you.

  Lifedrinker rested on the ground before him, and he was leaning on her long haft, the polished, not-wood, not-metal material resting on his cheek. When she spoke, he felt the conviction in her words and understood them more clearly through the emotion she sent his way. She was loyal and loving and growing more and more eloquent with her speech. Even so, this was the first time she’d ever spoken of cursing or souls, and Victor wondered if all of her advancements were broadening her concept and understanding of life.

  “Thank you, chica, but—”

  The door latch clicked, and the sound of hard-soled heels interrupted him. Victor turned to see Kynna approaching, two of her Queensguard standing just outside the door. When he turned, straightening from his slouch, Kynna froze in place and looked him up and down. She’d never seen him armored the way he was now: his crown, his aegis, his gauntlets and boots. The only part of his equipment that wasn’t some sort of powerful artifact were his pants—he’d opted for simple leather ones, stained black to match the overall theme. “Victor…”

  “My Queen.” He performed a short bow, the aegis more accommodating than it had any right to be.

  She turned and pushed the door closed. “You’ve donned armor. No more bare-chested battles, then? A crown, too, I see—is that appropriate?”

  Victor reached up to touch the offending object. The bottom of the crown rested about half an inch above his brows and ears, and the dense, dark metal covered most of the top of his head. The seven ridges weren’t particularly high; they barely rose above his short, stiff hair, and it certainly wasn’t gaudy. The black opals, dense with Energy, were muted; even in direct light, they gleamed more than sparkled. He cracked a cocky smile. “I made sure it was shorter than yours.”

  Kynna’s answering smile changed her completely—she was a beautiful woman, but her usual serious, almost dour tone muted that beauty. The playful smile she showed him was the equivalent of turning on the lights in a chandelier. With eyes twinkling with amusement, she reached up to adjust the tall, crystal crown in question. “That was a wise decision.” She stepped a little closer. “Worry not; I jest. You’re a ruler in another world and a powerful duke in my kingdom. You’re entitled to wear what you please.”

  “Well, to be honest, I didn’t choose this because it’s a crown. I’m wearing it for its value as an artifact.”

  Kynna nodded, entwining her fingers before her as she looked him up and down. “That armor looks formidable.” Her gaze drifted down to Lifedrinker’s enormous, depthless black blade. “Have you decided to alter your usual strategy?”

  Victor barked a short laugh. By “usual strategy,” he knew she meant getting beat to a pulp before finishing his fight. “I guess you could say that the time for playing the fool is over.”

  “Is that so? Well, in that case, I’ll need to adjust my strategy for finding you duels.”

  “That was bound to happen, wasn’t it?”

  She nodded, glancing at the clock. Victor’s duel was scheduled to start in only six minutes. “That’s true. I told you we’d need to find a prideful kingdom to challenge next—a ruler and champion whose hubris won’t allow them to back down. It’ll be someone like Trinnie Ro, perhaps worse.”

  Victor nodded. “I’ll be ready.”

  Her smile fell away, and her face grew solemn again. “I know you will, Victor. Would you do me a small favor today?”

  “Yeah, of course.” Sometimes, Victor wanted to cut his damned tongue out; couldn’t he have thought about it or heard the favor before agreeing? Hastily, he added, “If I can ask for one in return.”

  “Hmm.” Kynna touched a finger to her chin, her polished silver nail gently tapping a small dimple there. “I was merely going to ask if you might wear something of mine for the battle. A token—nothing more.”

  Victor wasn’t stupid. Tes would be in Kynna’s box to watch the battle, and he had a feeling Kynna was making some sort of move here—marking her territory, so to speak. Did he care? As a slow smile crept over his lips, Victor realized he did not. In fact, he thought it might be amusing to see how Tes reacted. Was he playing with fire? He certainly was, but he’d done so before; he was a titan, was he not? “Yeah, sure, I can do that.”

  Kynna’s smile was bright as she summoned something into her palm—a delicate-looking, metallic yellow rose. The stem and petals were crafted from something with a luster like white gold, and the petals were crafted from the same material but set with gorgeously cut, many-faceted yellow gemstones. “The yellow rose represents Gloria, as you know. These gemstones are yellow sapphires.” She held it out to his chest, and it clicked as it secured itself to his armor on his left breastplate. “It’s enchanted to hold fast, don’t worry.”

  “It seems delicate…” Victor shifted Lifedrinker closer to the two of them, illustrating the kinds of destructive implements the little rose might encounter.

  Kynna was undaunted. “Yes. Keep it safe for me, will you not?” Victor sighed heavily, and she added, “Now, your favor?”

  “I’d like to offer Queen Madge a final chance to accept banishment—without the duel.”

  “She won’t. With banishment waiting as the only consequence for a loss, she’ll take the chance that her champions might win.”

  “Still, I’d like to present the offer. It’ll make me feel better about the fight.”

  Kynna looked into his eyes for a long moment, and Victor watched the white flames dancing behind their crystalline surface. They were beautiful in a way, different from Dar’s in that they didn’t constantly look angry and ready to flare with violent heat. She nodded gently, hardly moving the crown atop her head. “Very well. I won’t object.”

  Victor looked at the clock and saw he had only three minutes. “Better get to your seat then.”

  “Keep my rose safe, Champion.” Without awaiting a response, she turned and exited; somehow, her Queensguard knew to open the door ahead of her.

  Victor reached down and adjusted the beautiful little rose on his armor. “Pinché son of a bitch,” he grumbled. When the announcement to proceed to the arena came, he shouldered Lifedrinker and marched through the tunnel onto the red and black sands. The crowd had been noisy when he fought Trinnie Ro, but this time, they were thunderous in their adulation and derision. Victor didn’t care that some people were booing, hissing, and making rude gesticulations. He didn’t even look at them; He simply turned in a slow circle, basking in the attention.

  The glory-attuned Energy in his Core flared and surged, and, holding Lifedrinker steady with his left hand, he lifted his right in a fist, grinning madly as the crowd’s roar intensified. He paced in a small circle, biding his time as he slowly made his way toward the center of the arena—the demarcation line between red and black. When he was nearly there, he paused, lowered his fist, and, for the first time, set his eyes on his waiting opponents.

  Hunt Kreeze stood to his left, a tall, powerfully built man in heavy, gleaming, silvery armor. He wore a massive shield, and in his right hand, he clutched a warhammer that vibrated with sonic Energy. To his right was Vo Brahn, another bruiser in dark metal plates adorned with spikes, some of which were nearly a foot long. He fought with spiked gauntlets, and thus, his enormous metal-clad fists were empty of other weapons. Victor briefly let his gaze drift over them, then looked up toward Kynna’s box.

  Just as he’d expected, Kynna was there with her attendants, but so were Bryn, Tes, and, for the first time, Florent, the spatial mage who’d been spending time at Iron Mountain in Victor’s service. Victor saluted briskly, careful not to smash his fist into Kynna’s rose, and then he turned his gaze upward, seeking out Grand Judicator Lohanse. He didn’t have to look far; the veil walker was gliding down on his crystalline flying disc, descending rapidly toward the center of the arena.

  Lohanse performed his usual spiel, “Citizens! I am Grand Judicator Lohanse, and I am here to ensure all rules of law are abided by, that the agreed-upon terms are upheld, and that no outside interference mars the sanctity of this most venerated ritual of succession. Do any dare challenge my authority in this place?”

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  His booming voice brought silence to the arena; even drunken, rowdy revelers knew better than to insult one of the veil walkers who enforced the empire’s laws. When no one objected, Lohanse glided closer to Kynna’s section of boxed-off seats. “Queen Kynna Dar of Gloria, I have read the terms of this duel of succession. Do you agree to abide by them?”

  Kynna tilted her crystal crown forward and back. “I do!”

  Lohanse whirled around, his disc carrying him across the arena to hover before the entourage from Bandia. “Queen Madge Hajarnen of Bandia, do you agree to abide by the terms of this duel?”

  The queen, a bulky woman with massive shoulders and wearing ceremonial, gilded armor, slammed a gauntleted fist to her breastplate and shouted, “I swear it!”

  Lohanse nodded and glided in a wide loop, running his eyes over Victor and his two opponents. “Champions! You will not be permitted to access storage devices or use potions, tinctures, salves, or other consumable aids during this duel. Are you all equipped to your satisfaction?” He drifted closer to Hunt and Vo Brahn, letting his gaze linger on them momentarily before prompting, “Champions of Bandia?”

  “I am ready!” Hunt replied, his voice deep and booming.

  “Ready,” Vo Brahn growled, slamming his gauntleted fists together.

  Lohanse whirled in the air, gliding toward Victor. When he drew near, he spoke, and Victor could tell his voice wasn’t amplified, for it didn’t echo off the arena walls like it usually did. “I see you’ve deigned to wear your armor? Was the last duel a bit too close for your comfort?”

  Victor smiled. “It wasn’t a good time.”

  Lohanse nodded, and then his voice boomed, “Are you ready, Champion of Gloria?”

  “May I address the Queen of Bandia, Grand Judicator?”

  Lohanse reached up, flung his long, spun-silver hair over his shoulder, and then regarded Victor for a long moment. His eyes, always aglow, shifted through various colors from magenta to crimson, then to yellow, and back to silvery-white. “I see you’re sincere. You may speak.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Victor walked along the line of sand where it shifted from black to red, careful not to cross over. His opponents stalked along in the red sand, watching him, growling, grimacing, and doing everything they could to look intimidating. Victor ignored them, and when he stood directly beneath the Queen of Bandia, he looked up and shouted, “Good Queen of Bandia, before this duel begins, I ask that you save the lives of these loyal champions. Accept Queen Kynna’s generous offer to allow you to leave Ruhn. There’s no need for—"

  “Hah!” the queen barked, her voice surprisingly deep and powerful. “This one has lost his nerve. What’s the matter? Don’t want to lose that pretty crown your queenie put on your head? Didn’t know she’d pit you against two devil-blooded war-hounds? Too late to save the embarrassment, but at least die like a man.” The crowd couldn’t resist a reaction to the drama; murmurs, laughter, and even jeers began to break out. Only Lohanse, flying a fast circle around the arena, glaring down at the thousands of spectators, brought back the silence.

  Of course, her words and the crowd’s reaction triggered the heat of Victor’s rage-attuned Energy, and he had to concentrate for a moment to push it back before he spoke again. He glared up at the queen, trying to see her eyes beneath the ridiculous beak of her slotted helmet visor. “As you wish. These deaths are on your hands.” With that, he dropped Lifedrinker off his shoulder and held her ready in two hands. As Queen Madge chortled, he looked at Lohanse and nodded. “I am ready.”

  Victor hadn’t been sure how he wanted to handle this fight. Should he go “all out?” How much should he hold back? Should he draw things out? The queen’s response to his words had settled the debate in his mind. These two men were brave and full of pride, but they didn’t realize how badly they were outclassed. Victor had read dossiers on them. Or, more honestly, he had Brynn read the dossiers and give him a summary. They were both bruisers—powerful men who could take a pounding and dish one out, too.

  Hunt could create Energy barriers and perform an action similar to Victor’s new Guardian’s Rescue spell. He had a dozen deadly abilities he could employ through his warhammer, and, according to some rumors, he could regenerate his health to some degree. Vo Brahn, on the other hand, was a berserker.

  He had a Spirit Core entirely focused on hatred, which was a rage-related attunement but rooted in deep, simmering resentment or malice. Where Victor’s rage was explosive and passionate, a berserker with hate-attuned Energy driving their madness was, according to Tes, more cunning and remorseless. A man without any balance for such an affinity wasn’t likely to be a pleasant individual.

  None of it mattered. Queen Madge had sealed these men’s fates. Victor twisted his hands on Lifedrinker’s haft and built a spell pattern in his pathways, waiting for the Judicator’s signal. He watched the two men, one with beady black eyes, the other with luminous green orbs beneath his helmet’s visor. They looked ready. Their stances were low, their posture forward, and Victor could feel the Energy building in their pathways. When Lohanse shouted, “Fight!” all three exploded into action.

  #

  Tes watched the challengers down below. They fidgeted idly while the crowd’s clamor made their quiet conversation impossible to hear. She could cast a spell to listen to their words, but she didn’t need to. A delicate probe, just a tiny tendril of her aura, was all she needed to pierce their veils and see that Victor would prevail in the fight to come. Their equipment was fine—sturdy, Energy-rich materials with potent enchantments, but their armor wouldn’t stop Lifedrinker. The axe had grown hungry, and she had the teeth to feed herself.

  A noise behind her and Bryn murmuring, “Stand up straight” to her squire told Tes that the queen had finally arrived. She turned to observe the regal woman and perform a delicate curtsey before returning to her seat. The gesture never failed to lower a person’s guard. Kynna wore a slight smile, a knowing twinkle in her eye, and Tes wondered what she and Victor had discussed. She could have listened in, of course; hiding from the likes of these folks wasn’t beyond her, but it would have been risky with veil walkers lurking nearby. It didn’t matter in any case; she wouldn’t do that to Victor.

  “Hello, Lady Tes,” the queen said as she sat down. “I missed you at the Rannisday Celebration. I’d hoped Victor would bring you.”

  “My apologies, Your Majesty, but I thought I’d be intruding and didn’t want Victor to feel burdened by me, him being my only acquaintance in this world.” In truth, Tes hadn’t wanted to perform a dance like this one, especially when, at the time, she’d only been on the planet for a month.

  “We’ll have to remedy that.” Kynna nodded toward the arena. “Here comes our champion.”

  Tes turned to see Victor striding in, clad in his ornate blue-black armor. A glint of something shiny on his chest drew her eye as he lifted a fist and turned to bask in the crowd’s adulation. She peered more closely, using her peerless dragon senses to study the lovely little rose broach. It was the signet of Gloria, so she supposed it made sense that he’d wear it as their champion. Still, it was awfully gaudy for a bloody brawl in an arena.

  Thinking about it and Kynna’s knowing smile, she put it together rather quickly. “Lovely sapphires. It’s rare to find such bright, yellow ones.”

  Kynna beamed at her. “Why, thank you! It belonged to an ancestor: Ranish Dar’s first daughter.”

  Tes nodded, smiling delicately at the queen. “An heirloom? I’m sure Victor will keep it safe.” As if he didn’t have enough to worry about! She wanted to scold the queen but knew the game too well to fall into that trap.

  “I’m sure he will.”

  Tes nodded, resting her chin on her fist as she leaned on the arm of her seat. Was Kynna making a statement? Was she marking her “territory?” Tes almost frowned, but she was too disciplined for that. Let the queen have her fun; Tes knew where Victor’s heart lay, even if she couldn’t do anything about it yet. Of course, the thought reminded her of her obligations and her conflicting principles, and that nearly brought a frown to her face. The judicator, a veil walker of middling strength, was giving his spiel, and Tes tuned him out, focusing on Victor.

  He stood easy—relaxed. He knew he was more than a match for these two men. One was a hateful brute, the other a…more durable brute. No, brute was the wrong word for the man in the silver armor. He wasn’t particularly clever, but he wasn’t an animal. She could find pity in her heart for him. When Kynna signaled her intention to follow the rules, and the other queen did as well, Tes felt the tension increase in the box. Not everyone was so sure Victor would win. She looked at Bryn—a woman she’d grown to like a great deal—and said, “He’ll be fine.”

  Bryn looked at her and smiled nervously, nodding. “I hope so. At least he’s wearing armor this time. You missed some bloody fights, Lady Tes.”

  The queen nodded, clearly wanting to be included in the conversation. “Fear not, Bryn. He’s assured me that he’s done playing about.”

  Tes smiled, careful not to show her face to the queen. On the sands below, Victor was walking toward the far side. When he shouted, offering the Queen of Bandia a final chance to forfeit the duel, Tes clicked her tongue and sighed. “He’s so idealistic.” When the Queen of Bandia made a mockery of his gesture, she saw the heat of his Core and watched as he pushed most of the rage back into it. He clung to some threads, though; he was angry.

  “I told him she wouldn’t accept the offer,” Kynna sighed.

  Tes looked at her. “He asked you about this?”

  “Oh yes. I could see he didn’t want to fight these men, but when I looked into his eyes, I knew it wasn’t fear but pity driving him.”

  Tes narrowed her eyes. Perhaps this woman was cleverer than she thought. “You saw that, did you?”

  “I did.”

  Tes nodded and looked back at Victor. She saw a familiar pattern taking shape in his pathways. “Watch closely, Your Majesty. This will happen quickly.”

  Before Kynna could reply, the judicator shouted, “Fight!”

  Tes sped up her mind, and the world slowed in her perception. She saw the spike-clad warrior, the hateful brute, flare with red, seething Energy as his body expanded with tremendous muscles. She saw the silver-clad giant slam his shield downward as an Energy barrier expanded out of it, protecting his forward arc. But, at the same time, she saw Victor flare with white-gold Energy as he moved. His actions were like lightning, but he was easy to track with her enhanced cognition.

  He darted forward, and while the baleful red Energy expanded through the brute, Victor hacked Lifedrinker through his knee, severing it. The man tilted to the side, but Lifedrinker was already up and descending toward his neck. She split his spiked gorget and slipped through the meat of his flesh like a cleaver through a piece of fowl. Even before the berserker’s Energy had finished surging through his body, he was dead.

  As the brute’s corpse hung in the air, blood still erupting out of the wounds Lifedrinker had inflicted, Victor moved in an arc around the silver-clad warrior, and a tremendous clang rang out as the axe slammed into his back. Clang, clang, clang—Victor lifted and dropped Lifedrinker three more times, pounding the giant forward as the axe bit deeper with each blow. Gasps around her told Tes that the other spectators had finally begun to realize something was happening.

  She slowed her mental operations to a normal pace and watched Victor move to stand behind his toppled enemies, Lifedrinker resting on his shoulder. While the Energy and blood fled his foes, Bryn gasped, “What happened?”

  Kynna, too, was dumbstruck. “Did—did he hit them? I heard a crash, but I missed…” She trailed off as the crowd began to realize what had happened, and gasps and murmurs broke out, giving way to scattered shouts—some outraged and some exuberant.

  “He slew them, Queen Kynna, and now you know why Victor’s heart was heavy. He’s not a butcher; he took no joy in this battle.” It was true. Victor was stomping out of the arena, crowned head down, axe on his shoulder, her blade dripping into the sand.

  “Is he angry?” Bryn asked.

  Tes was trying to think of an answer for her, but then the crowd started to chant—first a small section, but it spread rapidly. Before Victor was out of the arena, the roar of thousands of voices shouting, “Victor, Victor, Victor!” slowed his steps, and he halted. He looked up at the crowd, and though he didn’t smile, he lifted Lifedrinker high in both hands and pumped her up and down in time with the chant.

  Tes smiled and shook her head. “He’s not angry now, but I think the other queen’s mockery irritated him. Otherwise, I don’t think he would have ended this so quickly. Still, perhaps it’s for the best.” Tes looked at Kynna. “He kept your flower safe, at least.”