Chapter 21: The Courtyard

The Lowell courtyard had torches on every wall.

The whole Hierarchy stood in a ring on the flagstones.

The eldest sat at the head of it in a chair, with her cane across her knees.

I stood at the front, between Rosalind and the pearl woman.

Lucian walked out into the middle in his shirtsleeves.

There was a long pink scar on his chest where the silver had gone in, and a plain sword in his hand.

"Is he well enough?" the pearl woman whispered.

"He's well," I said.

I could feel it through the bond. His heart was slow and even, and his rage was cold.

A door opened on the far side of the court.

Tristan walked out of the house in his shirt, with an old sword in his hand and a bruise on his cheek.

He had not slept. His hair was greasy and his eyes were red-rimmed, and he did not look at the crowd.

He looked at Lucian only.

"You came," he said.

"I said I would."

"Then let us do it properly."

The eldest struck her cane once.

"Combat for the name of Lowell," she said. "To yield, or to the end. Begin."

Tristan attacked.

He came in fast and high, with a cut that would have taken Lucian's head off.

Lucian stepped inside it and turned the blade with his own.

Steel rang across the court.

Tristan cut again, left and right and left, hard, and Lucian gave ground.

The crowd groaned.

I felt Lucian's pulse jump, and his cool voice came down the bond.

*Let him tire.*

*He is not tiring.*

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