The Princess of Ash novel · Chapter 7 of 24

Chapter 7: The Ash Pit

The ash pit lay at the bottom of the Emberhold.

It was a round arena of packed grey cinders, forty paces across, ringed with tiers of black stone.

Three hundred dragon-kin sat above it, and every one of them had come to see the princess die.

I stood at the south gate in a leather jerkin Marit had stolen for me.

The steel knife was in my right hand, and a short blade of Marit's was in my left.

Across the pit the champion waited, bare to the waist, with a spiked iron club on his shoulder.

He was twice my weight.

On the high balcony Auren sat with his hands locked in front of him.

His eyes were orange from across the whole arena.

The law said the sovereign could not stop a trial of the bride.

The law said that if he rose from that seat, the marriage was void and I was ash.

Marit sat at his elbow, gripping his sleeve, white as milk.

The Ember Speaker raised his iron staff, and a gong sounded.

The champion came across the pit.

I didn't run.

Lord Hask had taught me never to meet strength with strength.

The club came down, and I slid sideways, and it smashed into the cinders where I had been.

Grey dust exploded into the air.

He swung again, backhand, and I ducked under it, and cut him across the ribs.

It was shallow, and he grunted, and it did nothing at all.

"Little princess," he said, grinning.

"You bleed like the rest of us."

"I haven't started."

The club caught me on the shoulder, glancing, and I went down in the ash with my arm numb.

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