Page 91 of Court of Talons
There will be two feasts, in fact, according to Caleb.
“The villagers’ one tomorrow is better, you ask me, because then the feasting will all be out on the main plains between the First House and the coliseum. Another swarm of tents and food for all. But the journey back to the First House tonight is specifically to gather all the warriors here and keep them safe and celebrated.”
I grimace, looking at the high walls on either side of us. “Or to keep them corralled, anyway. This has been the worst day yet,” I say, almost more to myself than anyone else. “One man and his Divh nearly died today, and so many more were injured. If Iwere given my preference, I’d leave tonight, and I didn’t fare so poorly.”
Nazar leans forward on his horse, peering ahead. “Rihad is a man of great strategy and guile. There’s nothing he does that isn’t carefully thought out.”
Whatever he sees on the far horizon seems to sober him, however, and we ride the rest of the way in silence. We don’t lack for noise as we enter into the hamlet leading up to the gates of the great fortress of the First House. Once more it has all the laughter and activity of market day, and the savory smells and crackling fire remind me how hungry I am. But we can’t stop—not yet. The procession continues to the very doors of the First House, and by the time we flow in at the rear, Rihad is already off his horse and standing on the steps, ordering us to make haste to the great hall for the feast he has prepared.
We move quickly then, driven both by hunger and an interest in appeasing Rihad, who has not yet set the rolls for tomorrow’s paired-off battles. Caleb and Nazar bully me into another tunic and breeches, and I think with grim amusement about the servant’s overwrap I have stashed in my bags. How much I’d rather leave the feast hall behind and secret myself in the caverns with the great dragon Szonja buried below. This may be my last time to see her. After the end of tomorrow’s battles, the First House will be barred to me once more.
Perhaps…
“Merritt.” Nazar stands in front of me, straightening my half cloak over my tunic. “What is the way of the warrior? “
I frown at him, but the answer he’s insisted upon so many times comes instantly to my mind, and I speak it before I can think. “Death,” I say simply.
“And what does that mean?”
“That the warrior must fight when death is certain, and accept that death may be the end, and even welcome that death, versus not taking up the fight at all.”
The priest smiles then, a tired, determined smile. His words are quieter, too. “Then go, and face this night as only a warrior can, Talia of the Tenth House.”
He turns away from me before I can ask him what he’s talking about. Caleb bounds up to me, laughing and happy and eager more than anything for the food and drink promised in the great hall. We join the throng of warriors pouring into the room, and I look around, noting the layout of tables is much as it had been the first night. Several small tables scattered around, and one high table, set upon the pedestal, for Rihad, his family, and honored guests.
Now Rihad stands, and I sense the wrongness in the air, the danger, though I can’t understand it, can hardly breathe as we’re jostled and pushed into the wide space, everyone heading for a table overladen with food, wine, and ale.
But I can’t keep my eyes off Rihad. Especially when the crowd before him clears and I can see the man standing to his right. I freeze.
“Tonight, we honor the warriors of today—and yesterday—who fight with pride for the glory of the Protectorate,” the Lord Protector announces. “And as part of that honor I present to you Lord Lemille, master of the Tenth House!”
Chapter 38
The cheer of the warriors is heartfelt and loud. I hide behind the shoulders of taller men and watch my father flush with pride. What is hedoinghere?
Rihad’s next words solve that dilemma. “Lord Lemille has traveled hard and fast to witness the tournament’s end. When he learned from the bards of his son’s presence in the early battles of this tournament, of the marauder attack that warrior knight Merritt survived to even compete, he knew he must come. He’ll be granted a brace of soldiers from the tournament’s finest competitors, to protect his home and rebuild its glory.”
My gaze narrows to a pinprick. I don’t know how to act, how to breathe. Is that all it takes, then, to replace Merritt—a handful of soldiers? But Father doesn’t know Merritt has died, that a usurper fights in his stead. He certainly doesn’t know that it’s by Rihad’s own hand that Merritt was killed. In accepting soldiers from the First House, he’s playing right into the trap the Lord Protector has set for him.
I watch my father stare haughtily around the gathered men. He makes no attempt to find his son in the group. It’s not appropriate for him to do so—as Merritt, I’m officially as muchmy father’s lackey as the meanest servant. But still…shouldn’t he at least try to look for his son? I know I would have.
Now I wonder: Had Father even loved Merritt at all, or was his son simply an extension of himself? I’d thought his affection for Merritt genuine, deep and true. He had certainly loathed me well enough. My fingers trace the proof of his hatred forever scored along my neck.
He’ll learn soon enough that Merritt is dead, though. And when he does…
My head swims. My hands go cold and clammy. When that happens, I definitely want to be gone from this place.
I try to remember Nazar’s words from the barracks. The old priest must have known.Thisis what he’d seen as we’d climbed the long path up to the First House, my father’s entourage. He must have seen, understood what I would be facing.
He’s also not here, I realize with a start.
“Where’s Nazar?” I’m surprised I can even form words, my throat’s so tight.
Caleb looks around, his mouth grim. “Hopefully praying to the Light that we get out of this in one piece. But look, here’s a spot. Let’s sit here. Maybe it won’t be so bad.”
“Maybe,” I say, though neither one of us believes that.
Rihad calls for the feast to commence, and there’s great jostling and scraping as the warriors plow into the food. Caleb has made friends with the squires of the Fourth and Sixth Houses, it seems, and we’re now seated in their midst. I’m glad of it. I need to hide.