I glanced up and saw that Ceba gestured to the young man beside him, his great-grandson, who was a quiet man in his twenties.I had seen him mayhap a handful of times in my life, and this was the first time I had seen him without a scroll in hand.I didn’t remember his name.We all called him Ceba’s historian-in-training.
“Yes, grandsire,” the historian-in-training said.
“You may rise, Mara,” my father said.I stood and moved back to my place beside Finnrey.
“As I understand it—and you will correct me if I misspeak”—he glanced at Ceba who nodded—“the rite is between a marriageable princess of Earsleh and the prince of a neighboring kingdom who wishes to win a bride.”He turned to Ceba.“Has a princess ever come to attempt to claim a prince?”
“We’ll speak of that later,” Ceba said.He made an impatient motion with his hand.
The historian-in-training turned back to us.“From my reading, I’ve gleaned that the rite involves His Majesty graciously receiving the foreign prince and hosting a large banquet for him.During that time, the prince is allowed to observe and speak with each eligible princess.”
“Alone?”my father asked.
The historian-in-training glanced at Ceba.Ceba nodded.“If he wishes.”
The great-grandson continued, “The next day he will declare which princess, if any, he wishes to challenge.This declaration is made in the arena at noon.After which, the princess and the foreign contender engage in combat.If the foreign prince is the victor, he may return to his kingdom with the princess.If the princess is the victor, she may allow him to leave unharmed or spill his blood there on the battlefield with a ceremonial blade.”
“And what weapons are used in this combat?”my father asked.
“No weapons,” the historian-in-training said.“The battle is fought bareknuckle, both parties unarmed.There are no rules otherwise.Anything is allowed.The first combatant to stay down for the count of ten loses.”
The silence in the throne room was deafening when the historian-in-training finished his explanation.We sisters looked at each other and then my father.The king lifted his chin and gave each of us a level look.“I know this is a shock, but I also know my daughters.I trust you will do your duty, and your actions will embody the honor of the kingdom.We will show ourselves to be a noble people with great integrity, win or lose.”The king rose.“That said”—the king gave us a rueful smile—“don’t lose.You must send this Zulenii home with his tail tucked between his legs.”
***
“THIS HARDLY SEEMS FAIR,” Morga said when the king, Ceba, and his great-grandson had departed.We princesses were alone in the throne room now, with only the sound of the crackling fire and the wolves’ snoring.Morga put her hands on her generous hips.“How am I expected to defeat a man without a weapon?A man has the advantage in brute strength.”
“I’m not worried,” Broga said.“I can beat any man.”
This was probably true.Broga was very strong.I understood what Morga was saying, though.My talents were in speed and agility.I was no weakling, but I was not stronger than most men.
“Perhaps he will be old or weak,” Finnrey said.“Ceba told us they are too busy singing and dancing to train on the battlefield.”
“Why is no one discussing the most terrifying aspect of all of this?”Riah asked, pushing her hair off her shoulder.“If the princess he chooses fails to best him, she must marry a man with a tail!I don’t want to bed a man with a tail!”
Behind us I heard my mother let out a snigger.I kept my expression unchanged, but I saw Finnrey put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile.
“He doesn’t have a tail,” Broga said, elbowing her twin hard enough to send her off balance.
“But Papa said—”
“His tail tucked between his legsis just an expression,” Cameed chimed in.“The Zulenii didn’t have a real tail.It means disgraced or embarrassed.”
“Why didn’t he just say that?”Riah asked.
Finnrey patted her sister’s shoulder.“What I am most concerned about is killing this person.I don’t believe he’s really a foreigner, but even if he was, I’ve never killed anything that wasn’t a Hollow.”
“You don’t have to kill him,” Morga said.“You can let him go.”
“It’s better to kill him,” Broga argued.“What if the next time he returns he brings a Zulenii army?He’ll have the advantage having been inside our walls and seen our defenses.”
“What army?”I never could pass up an opportunity to counter Broga.“A singing, dancing army?I hardly think we need to fear an army who pirouettes into battle.”
“No doubt you will kill him if he chooses you,” Riah said, and I could have sworn I detected a hint of a sneer in her voice.“You’ll slit his throat and not even blink an eye.”
“I will because—as much as it pains me to admit this—I agree with Broga in part.It’s dangerous to allow him to live.If he is Earslehen masquerading as a foreigner, he has no honor and deserves to die.Let him live, and others might think his actions acceptable.If he truly is a Zulenii and returns with an army, they would be easy prey for the Hollows in the forest and the western outerlands.And while I’m not concerned about a dancing army, I do fear an army of Hollows.”
“That’s a good point,” Finnrey said.“We’ve fought for decades to beat back the Hollows and keep them on the other side of the Barrier.I don’t want to lose all we’ve gained and go back to living the way our grandparents lived, hiding in the castle and starving because the outerlands were too dangerous.”
