Authors: Aprille Legacy
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t fight that many without
revealing what I was. Nor could I guarantee the safety of
any I had to fight, and I didn’t want my reign to begin
with me injuring my subordinates.
The flames roared higher than the crowd, burning hot
and bright. Several people screamed and reared back from
them. Most of the guards took a step back. I saw one hold
his ground through the flickering fire.
“We will not arrest him,” the guard called, of whom I
could see very little. “But you will understand that you
will need to be questioned by the Governor.”
“Go ahead,” he replied. “The Governor can only stall
for so long before accepting you as the Queen. It has to
happen at some point.”
“They will want to see if you indeed have the power of
the Queen. This could be an exhibition or trial by
combat.”
I knew which one Ryman would pick, though I hoped
he’d pick combat. I desperately wanted to kick his sorry
arse all the way to the portcullis.
I lowered my arms, letting the flames sink into the
pavement. I was surprised to see the guard who’d been
speaking to us was the amber magic guard who’d been part
of the team attempting to arrest Seff. The other guards
surrounded us and though I flinched, didn’t make any
move to arrest either of us. Instead, we were marched
back up the high road from whence I’d come. Phoenix
stood at my shoulder, and carefully slipped his fingers
through mine.
“You’ll be fine,” he murmured. “No matter which the
Governor picks. You are the Queen of Lotheria. The blood
of the previous monarchs runs in your veins.” He glanced
down at me, his eyes full of love. “And you are my Sky.”
My heart squeezed painfully, and tears brimmed in my
eyes. I’d missed him more than I could bear. All I wanted
was to spend the day with him, catching up on all the time
we’d missed out on.
People openly stared as we were escorted back to the
palace. Phoenix seemed thoroughly unimpressed with the
city, which unnerved me for some reason. I had fallen in
love with Castor in the short amount of time I’d been
here. A lot of the time I felt as though this city was meant
to be my home. Not Ar Cena, not the Academy, this city,
with its people and its charms. I could only hope that the
place would grow on him as we ruled.
We trailed obediently. Phoenix’s hand had grown
sweaty, but I didn’t let it go. I didn’t want to ever let go.
The other half of my soul was finally at my side. My heart
was singing.
I met his amused gaze, as stony as the city wall.
Suddenly I understood completely why Iain and Netalia
had picked him to govern; he was an oppressor, and
something about him, though diminished in size,
demanded respect and power. Though he was a small,
lumpy man, I got the feeling that his followers would
continue thinking the sun shone out his behind until the
very end until someone pointed them at the sky.
“Were you now?” I replied, not letting my voice betray
anything. Phoenix’s hand clenched slightly around mine.
“I was expecting a governor who was reasonable and
would step down from his station without a fuss, but hey,”
I shrugged, letting go of Phoenix’s hand. “We can’t all
have what we want.”
“Making a claim to a throne that has been vacant for a
thousand years is huge responsibility,” one of his wormy
little eyebrows twitched a bit and I think he was lifting it
in derision. “Are you prepared to accept the consequences
if I can prove that you’re lying?”
I already knew that he’d pick an exhibition. I couldn’t
imagine Ryman ever caring about something enough to
leave his reinforced desk chair.
“Trial by combat,” he announced with a shrewd little
smile, and suddenly I felt like I’d misjudged the situation
completely.
“No, I think my
champion
will best you,” he replied
smugly, settling back into his chair, his hands folded
neatly on his protruding stomach. “Griffin is the Captain
of the city guard. He should prove more than a match for
you.”
Captain of the city guard? So this would be the man
Eleanora replaced if she took up my offer. I was hardly
surprised when the amber-eyed guard stepped forwards,
amusement in his eyes.
I glanced at him quickly, taking in his stance and
demeanour. His hands were loosely clasped behind his
back, his brown hair pushed back out of his eyes and
falling almost to his shoulders from a widow’s peak. I saw
a man who had never lost before, and didn’t plan on
relinquishing that title anytime soon.
“You’ll pick a second who will take over in the combat
if you tire or die. The fight shall only be to the first knockout however.”
“Well, my dear, accidents do happen.” Sympathy really
didn’t work with this man. I wished again that he’d
dobbed himself in for combat. “As the accused, you may
not pick a champion and must fight in the trial yourself.”
Clouds were beginning to roil over the city, but that
hadn’t stopped Ryman from moving the trial to one of the
outside courtyards. The weather was unusually warm and
muggy, but I could almost taste the rain that was on the
way. I was dressed in loose fitting breeches and a shirt
which allowed full mobility. Griffin was dressed much the
same.
My friends, some of my old classmates, and my parents
were watching on the sidelines, as well as all of the guards
who’d been able to get off duty and some who hadn’t.
Phoenix had been confined to a room in the castle lest he
interfere.
“You will now point to the person you have chosen as
your second.” Ryman announced from his chair which
he’d had brought outside.
I’d had ten minutes to discuss who would be my second
with my friends. Theresa was out in the city, Dena at the
hospital and my parents had arrived at the end of the
discussion. Yasmin, Ispin, Petre and Rain had all offered to
be my seconds, with Phoenix being told that he wasn’t
allowed to volunteer. After a few minutes of
consideration, I chose Petre; his fighting style was similar
to mine, and as the son of the Lord of Riverdoor, just his
name held sway. Yasmin had been raring to fight, but
when I told her that Ryman had named a champion and
wouldn’t be fighting himself, her disappointment was
clear. She still remembered the slight about her being
human born, and wanted to make sure Ryman
remembered it too.
I stretched my muscles carefully, listening to Ryman
repeat the rules for the benefit of those watching. I saw
Jett standing on the edge of the courtyard, expressionless.
He’d been more than annoyed when he’d arrived to find
that I’d challenged the Governor’s rule without consulting
him first, and no amount of explanation seemed to placate
him. In the end I’d given up.
I turned and faced my competitor. Griffin was watching
me closely as I warmed up, and I knew he was taking note
of which hand I favoured and which leg I leant forward
on; I’d been doing the same to him. It was crucial to know
these things, as mages would prefer limbs to others for
fighting. It would be my right hand and leg he would
target, in the hope of crippling me and therefore slowing
my response time to his attacks. I’d noticed that whilst he
favoured his right hand also, it seemed to be his left leg
that he relied most upon. I could only hope he hadn’t been
concealing which side he preferred to confuse me.
“When the spark hits the ground, you will begin.”
Ryman lifted his hand, conjuring a single spark that flared
momentarily and then began to drift towards the ground.
It hit the ground, and faster than I could follow, Griffin
whirled into action. A bolt of amber flames whipped
towards me, and I only just got my shield up in time.
As the flames roared around the green bubble I’d
managed to create, I realised that my besting Griffin in the
lower districts that day had been a complete fluke. This
man was trained in the art of combat, a fully fledged mage.
A cracking brought my attention back to my shield.
The flames were beginning to overcome it! I dropped the
shield and rolled to the left, narrowly avoiding being
roasted or sapped by the magic. As I got to my feet, I spun
and kicked out, sending a wave of green fire towards
Griffin. He jumped it easily, retaliating as I got to my feet.
I ducked the wave of flames but as I stood and faced my
opponent again, I caught only a glimpse of silver before
the throwing knife hit me.
It grazed my cheek, leaving a searing line of fire across
my cheekbone. Something hot trickled from the wound,
and I didn’t need to check to know that it was blood.
He was using weapons. I chanced a glance at Ryman,
who hadn’t mentioned anything about weapons. If he had,
I would’ve had my swords down here in an instant.
“Oh yes, I did quite forget that little detail, didn’t I?”
Ryman sneered, and I was suddenly more angry than I’d
been in a while. He’d given his champion an unfair
advantage. He meant for me to lose this fight.
Biting back a flood of expletives, I lashed out with a
vine of prickly magic. Griffin deflected it with a lazy swat.
I fought harder than I ever had in memory, but I knew I
was significantly hampered by my lack of weaponry and
completely outgunned by my opponent’s skill.
The fight continued, but it was clear to everyone
watching, as well as myself, who was the more powerful
mage. How could this be? I’d been so sure of myself, of my
power. I’d never thought that I’d lose this battle.
“There’s a difference between power and skill,” Griffin
told me loudly as I climbed back to my feet after a
particularly nasty hit. “Sorry to prove that to you right at
this moment, Your Majesty.”
I didn’t answer, saving my strength. Thunder was more
frequent overhead now, the wind was picking up and I
could smell rain in the air. We were in for a storm.
Griffin, apparently not noticing the weather or not caring,
continued his assault. I blocked the worse of it, but I
allowed the lesser ones to hit me, saving my strength.
What did I do now? I was the reincarnation of Queen
Fleur, I was entitled to the throne. I wouldn’t have been
called to duty otherwise. But beaten in combat... no one
would take me seriously again. I ground my teeth in
frustration.
I got up off the ground again, and glanced up just in
time to see Griffin produce another throwing knife from
somewhere. I watched him weigh it in his hand, and on
the sidelines noticed Petre beginning to gear up to take
over.
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
As he threw the knife, I conjured a shield in front of
me, but my magic was weak and the knife broke right
through it. I cried out in pain as the knife sunk deep into
my right shoulder.
People were yelling now, mostly my classmates but
some of the other spectators as well. Ignoring the fire in
my shoulder that was threatening to send my vision
spiralling, I looked over to Ryman. He looked steadily to
me and then nodded in a ‘carry on’ motion.
I fell to my knees again, my left hand going to the
knife. Agony was blazing from the wound, and my vision
wobbled again.
I barely heard her through the fog of pain. My fingers
grasped the hilt of the knife and the whole world tilted.
Blood was thudding in my ears, but I could still hear the
agonised scream that took me a moment to realise it was
mine.
I pulled on the knife, desperate for some relief from the
agony. The bloody blade clattered to the ground, my blood
falling from it in little droplets. I experienced a split
second of euphoria as my body recognised that the blade
had been removed, but that was quickly replaced by the
horror of feeling blood beginning to pump out of the open
wound.
I now realised why Rain had been telling me not to
take it out. I pressed my left hand to the wound, but I
knew that I was bleeding out.