She Dreamed Her Empire Would Burn, So She Set Out to Break Four Collars novel · Chapter 2 of 24
Chapter 2: The Pit
She stops a fight to the death before the crowd and heals Ashgar, who tells her he has dreamed it for eleven nights.
Two thousand elves were chanting for a boy's blood when Nimeriel came down the steps into the Pit.
The arena sat below the palace's east wall, a bowl of white sand ringed with marble benches.
In the middle of it, a young hare-kin with a wooden collar knelt in the sand holding his side.
Standing over him with a blunt practice sword was a white wolf-kin as tall as a doorway.
Ashgar.
His hair was the color of ash and his chest was open in three long cuts.
He did not raise the sword.
"Finish him," called a count from the front bench, with a goblet in his hand. "It's a fight to the end, champion. That's what I paid for."
"The boy yielded," Ashgar said.
"The boy is a servant. Servants don't yield. Finish him."
Ashgar's ears went back, and the collar at his throat began to glow a dull amber.
The Binding was waking.
It would force his arm if he refused much longer.
Nimeriel saw his jaw lock and the veins stand up along his neck.
She stepped out onto the sand.
The crowd went quiet.
Ru walked half a pace behind her with a hand on his sword, and she heard him mutter, "Princess, this is a bad idea."
"Noted," she said.
She stopped between the wolf and the boy.
"By the Warden's mercy," she said, loud enough for the back benches, "this boy is my patient."
The count lowered his goblet.
"Highness, you're not Warden yet."
"I'm Warden-elect. The mercy is mine from the day my father named me. Bring me the law and I'll read it aloud."
Nobody brought the law.
The count looked at the benches around him, where a great many elves were suddenly interested in their shoes.
"My coin," he said weakly.
"Charge it to my house," said Nimeriel. "I'll pay double, and you can explain to the Emperor why you wanted to lose it."
Somebody on the benches laughed.
The count sat down.
The amber light in Ashgar's collar faded out.
She knelt in the sand beside the boy, put both hands on his ribs, and let the warmth run.
The skin knit under her palms.
The boy stared at her with wet, wide eyes.
"Go to the infirmary," she told him quietly. "Tell them I sent you, and don't let anyone send you back."
He ran.
She stood up and found Ashgar watching her.
He had not moved.
His pale blue eyes were cold and curious.
"You're bleeding," she said.
"I've bled worse."
"Come with me."
"I answer to the Pit master."
"Then the Pit master will hear that the Warden-elect wanted you in the cells with a healer, and he'll say yes. He has a good head for who signs his pay."
Something at the corner of his mouth moved.
It wasn't quite a smile.
The cells under the Pit were cold and damp, with straw on the floor and one barred window high in the wall.
Ru stood in the doorway with his arms folded and his back to them.
Nimeriel sat Ashgar down on the cot and pressed her hands to his chest.
He flinched at the first touch, and then went still.
"I don't want your kindness, Princess," he said.
"It isn't kindness. I need something from you."
"There it is."
"Not what you think." She watched the cuts close one by one. "Tell me what you dream about."
Under her palms, his heartbeat jumped.
He said nothing.
Behind her, she heard Ru shift his weight.
"Fire?" she said. "A palace with white towers? A ceiling coming down?"
Ashgar looked past her at Ru, and Ru did not turn around.
Something passed between them.
When Ashgar spoke again, his voice was very low.
"Who told you?"
"Nobody. I dreamed it. Eleven nights."
"Eleven." He laughed once, without any warmth. "That's how many I've had."
"The same dream?"
"The wall breaks at the east gate. The fire goes up the towers. We walk in with the collars on the floor." He caught her wrist, and his hand was huge and scarred and shockingly careful. "And every night, Princess, you're the one standing in the middle of it."
She held his pale gaze.
"Am I alive?" she asked.
His grip tightened.
"That's the part I never see," said Ashgar.
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