This is not what I’m used to at all, this kind of fighting, this battle that is no war.I’ve never been emotional on a battlefield, commanding troops, leading charges.But that’s an ebb and flow and a tide of attack.This is something far more intimate, and while I despise the crowd for their excitement, I understand why they’re into it.
I might win, but my heart might not survive.
Three more times I fight three opponents, three more times I cut them down and accept the accolades and the chanting of my name.More fighters have left the contest, perhaps a dozen or so of the hundreds still standing when I look up and note that the sky has taken on the tones of twilight.At least none of them are faces I know, Onu and Carrigan both wounded, my stable, too.
Even Brem.“I’m stepping out.”She cradles her elbow in one hand, nursing an injury she received in her last fight.It didn’t stop her from taking out her opponents, but I’m happy to hear that she’s done.With the rest of our stable yielded, conceded, I don’t have anyone else to worry about but myself.And from Brem’s grin, she’s not angry about it.“Romouth will be delighted,” she says.“This is the furthest our stable has ever come, Remi.”She hesitates, smile fading, though it’s fixed and rigid again a moment later.“Besides, we all knew how this would end.”She looks up and out over the crowd, still screaming.“You’re going to win.”
“I am,” I say, eyeing the last of the competitors.Wait, I do know one face.Sukes of Zandir salutes me from across the sand.“Take care of your arm.”
She shakes her head.“Not until it’s over.”
I don’t tell her that I wanted to ask her to stay, and am grateful she’s here when the next fight is announced.I’m not in it, or the one that follows.In fact, I’m not called at all until only two men remain, facing off against one another, and I realize I’m being held for the final bout.
“They’re betting on you,” Brem says.“And against you.”She nods at themasterresandmistresses, how they talk back and forth, accepting that they are wagering either in favor of my success or my death.Romouth doesn’t look my way, but nor does she appear concerned.
All while the Sun God yawns and says something to the young man, who laughs in return.
I’m formulating an idea that’s truly terrible when the tall, burly fighter with a massive scar across his back goes down, though he’s not dead, just wounded enough to concede.Sukes allows it, backing away, though the crowd is furious with him for not killing, and now, I know, in this final round, they’ll be out for blood.
His or mine, I doubt they’ll care.
Then again, it’s not his name on their lips.As I cross the sand, the War Queen’s daughter called one last time, they’re chanting before the announcer can finish.RE-MA-LLA, RE-MA-LLAechoing, bouncing from tier to tier, reverberating until my whole body vibrates with the sound of my name.
RE-MA-LLA, RE-MA-LLA—
It’s impossible to block it out, but it fades finally as I salute Sukes.
“Somehow,” he smiles, “I knew it would be you.”
He attacks without warning, no quarter in his eyes.
Which is good, because I plan the very same.
***
Chapter Twenty-One
He’s already tired.I can see it in his movements.It’s infuriating to me when I step out of his first strike to take my own, that the choice to save me for this final battle has tilted the scales against him.I’m not completely fresh, but I’m certainly far from weary, my recovery complete, even stronger than I’d been before I was taken.All of the time I’ve spent fighting and eating hearty meals, resting and soaking in the baths has given me the kind of conditioning I’ve never experienced before.
Battle feels effortless, even against such a talented opponent, and I’m briefly sad for him because, were he fresh, I have no doubt this would be far more of a fair fight.
Sukes knows he’s going to lose, but he doesn’t quit, throwing everything he has at me, and it’s a formidable and valiant effort.If only that parry weren’t a half-second too slow, leaving me an opening to slice across his forearm, weakening his right grip, or his pivot a fraction of a turn too narrow, exposing his lower back to the point of my left blade, the inch-deep penetration not enough to kill, but crippling the muscle and slowing him further.
“Stop fucking toying with me,” he finally pants through clenched teeth when I avoid his last, desperate lunge, all skill gone, sheer force of will the only tool remaining to him.“Finish it.”
I step back and salute him.The crowd stills at the sight, collective breath-holding crushing in the shift of sound, the assault of constant screaming to near silence like a behemoth’s foot on my chest.Sukes straightens, grim and accepting, and salutes me back.
He tries to parry my killing blow, but he’s just too slow.It’s a quick death, the light leaving his eyes when I step in and embrace him with my swords, both sliding up through his abdomen, penetrating his chest cavity, his heart and lungs faltering and going quiet as his eyes lock on mine.I watch his life leave him, and kiss him in that final moment when what animates him returns to whatever place it came from.When I step back, my blades sliding free of his body, he falls slowly to his knees, then his side, graceful in death before landing on his back, still and empty.
As the crowd explodes.
I look up, emotion washing over me, so powerful I feel myself leave my body, too, as though I’m rising above where I stand, an eerie and disjointed experience I’ve never felt before.But it’s dispassionate and calming, and an escape from the hate that pushed me away from that moment of victory.
I would kill them all if I could reach them.If I had the magic to do so.Every single one of them would die as he died.No, they would suffer first.But none more so than the Sun God.
Who finally pays attention.He’s watching me, staring at me with a languid expression, the young man at his side leaning forward, face cupped in his hands, captivated, finally, though I barely spare him a moment of focus.
I can only stare at the ruler who thinks he’s above all of us and hope that at some point I have the chance to kill him.
