Chapter 10: The Challenge

By dawn the great roots had stopped at the foot of her tower.

Ru wore a grey scarf over his throat and refused to talk about it.

Iven called it "very romantic" and was hit with a pillow.

The summons came before breakfast.

A herald in the Chancellor's grey stood in the sitting room and read from a scroll.

"The Lord of the Pit demands satisfaction under the Festival law. The champion Ashgar owes a bout, paid in full, and will fight today at noon."

"Against whom?" said Nimeriel.

"A swordmaster of the count's house, Highness. To the yield."

Ashgar, sitting on the arm of the sofa with a honey cake, did not look up.

"I yield to nobody."

"That's the problem," said Iven quietly.

The Pit was full by noon.

Nimeriel sat in the front row beside the Chancellor, in a white gown, with Ru standing behind her seat.

Brannoch and Iven stood at the rail.

The Chancellor patted her hand.

"A man must pay what he owes, my dear. It's only a sparring match. Nobody will be hurt."

On the sand, the count's swordmaster walked out and bowed to the crowd.

He was an elf, lean and fair, with a thin curved blade that gleamed oddly in the sun.

Ashgar walked out the other side, bare-chested, with a plain training sword.

His collar glowed amber the moment he entered the ring.