"I am glad to see your ego intact," Alik said.
"Naturally," Eamon said.
Alik was disturbed to see how at ease Eamon was with this but he recalled how Eamon had remarked on Alik's ability to deal with people. Different arena, different rules, but it was always a combat nonetheless. The only difference was that Eamon had a sword in his hands.
Alik let out a breath and nodded. "Well enough," he muttered and Eamon smiled at him. He leaned down and kissed Alik thoroughly, until Alik was tempted to tell everyone to wait until he had had a turn with Eamon.
As they went through the door, Eamon paused and turned to Alik. "It was. Very clever of you, that is," he hesitated a moment longer and looked out the window to the sea.
"Thank you," Alik said and studied Eamon for a moment longer. "Is there something else?"
"There has been talk, among the men. That there is some kind of dissent through our lands for this very reason. That there are spies among us that clear the way for more and more Vresal to make their way into the lands. I am-"
"Concerned that Malcolm is one of them." Alik finished when Eamon stopped.
Eamon pursed his lips and nodded.
"Then take care of it. Show them, all of them, what the Crown Prince does to those that welcome the enemy into your home, into your lands, and make orphans of the children here," Alik hissed, an anger overtaking him that he wasn't aware of. He needed to get word back to the steward of his own lands. It was paramount that the Chancellor back in his own kingdom was kept informed of everything.
Eamon raised his eyes to meet Alik's.
A sneer, not entirely unlike Malcolm's from earlier, stretched his lips and Alik was immensely glad that he was not the one facing Eamon in the ring.
THE KINGS AND THEIR queens sat in the raised box above another line of chairs. Edmond, Lissandra, and Avelina were already seated. There were two other chairs left, usually for Eamon and Alik but only Alik slipped into his seat next to Avelina.
King Alexios startled and opened his mouth but King Therris put his hand on his friend's arm.
"What is this?" Therris asked.
"Malcolm challenged you. You are bound by honor to be down there," Queen Aconi said, her face aghast.
"I accepted a challenge. It was up to Sir Malcolm to lay the rules. The only rules were a trial by combat-" There was a roar of welcome when Malcolm entered the arena. "And none other. Eamon so selflessly volunteered to be my champion."
As though summoned, Eamon entered the ring.
There was silence and then a roar so deafening, Alik had to stop himself from putting his hands over his ears. The screams for their Crown Prince, their warrior, shook the risers that they sat on.
There was no mistaking the identity of who stepped into the arena. Even if the armor didn't give it away, gilded and glinting silver, the tattoos and sheer breadth of his shoulders gave it away.
"What is the meaning of this?" Sir Malcolm demanded. His voice boomed through the arena and it was clear enough what he said to those that could not hear him.
Eamon's laughter was clear to Alik and he threw his arms open wide. The crowd cheered again. He was clearly in his element. Alik memorized this scene before him for the next time he was in Eamon’s bed.
Which he hoped would be that night, if Eamon would have him.
"As the challenger, you set the rules of the challenge. All you set was a trial by combat," Even from the stands, Eamon's smile was blinding. "Alik chose a champion, something not against the rules."
There was another cheer and Malcolm waited until it was calm. "Cheaters!"
"The rules of the challenge have been set for hundreds of years. It is not my fault that I have one who is familiar with the rules and you do not. No rules have been broken. It is merely a failure on your part," Eamon paused. "You could always forfeit the match."
There was another cheer, some of boos, but most were screams for their Prince.
Eamon grinned broadly at his subjects, arrogance oozing from him and his stance.
"Coward," Alik murmured and Nicolin murmured the word too, thoughtlessly. The knights down the line began whispering it until it caught on and the whispers had become a singular cry.
Lissandra looked to Alik.
Alik shrugged, "I had no intention of that happening."
"Yes, Your Grace," she muttered but it did not sound like she believed him.
Malcolm held his hand up to quiet the crowd, but it did nothing to quell the crowd. Eamon smirked at him and held up a hand.
The people fell silent.
"I accept this challenge, false though it may be," Malcolm said.
The announcer, having so far stayed out of the two men's way, stepped forward and looked up at the King. King Therris looked at him and signaled for him to begin.
"A trial by combat will only be completed until one man yields, is no longer able to continue fighting, or is dead," the announcer paused, for dramatic effect, it appeared. The crowd was silent but for a soft murmur here or there and a single baby crying in the distance. "The winner of this battle will have the claim to the crown," he finished and turned towards the stands. "Your Highness?"
King Therris, for the first time since Alik had arrived, looked interested in something other than the wine in his hand and the friends at his side. "You may begin."
Alik had to admit, though King Therris looked interested, he did not look concerned. None of the royal family did. That did nothing to ease the tension in Alik’s shoulders.
The announcer signaled and stepped out of the ring.
Malcolm and Eamon circled each other and Alik found Lissandra clutching his hand. On his other side, Avelina took his other. Their grips were tight but it seemed like neither one of them knew that they had reached for him.
Malcolm was the one to strike first, but Eamon threw him off easily. There were words exchanged and Malcolm swung again, and Eamon blocked him again.
It went like that for a few more moments, with Malcolm testing Eamon and Eamon blocking him and throwing him off.
Then Malcolm charged and the fight began in earnest.
Malcolm was the first to draw blood, though it didn't seem as though Eamon even noticed until Malcolm backed off and pointed it out to him with a laugh. Eamon took the moment to charge in at Malcolm and suddenly Malcolm was being pushed back further and further back and there was a sudden slash and then Eamon was pacing back.
Eamon came back, his sword dripping red, his back to wherever Malcolm was.
Then Malcolm came storming into view and Avelina's grip on him tightened when they saw the blood drenching his left arm and face.
"I had hoped he had killed him," Edmond muttered and Alik was inclined to agree.
When the two men reached the center of the arena once more, Eamon turned and faced Malcolm. The blood at his side was barely a scratch compared to the gash on Malcolm's arm. It seemed like Eamon had cut deeply and Malcolm's left arm was useless.
"Well, this should be done with quickly," Willhelm said and he sounded bored.
Eamon kept his stance loose and easy, his feet shoulder width apart as Malcolm paced. It was easy to see Eamon's strategy and Alik had to wonder how Malcolm couldn't see he was just wasting his own energy instead of investing it elsewhere.
Then, there was a flash of silver, a flick of Malcolm's wrist, and he had used his sword to throw dirt into Eamon's face.
There were screams of outrage from the stands and distantly, Alik noted that a knight standing in the arena had to get another's help to hold Kane back.
Eamon stumbled back and it was pure luck that he stumbled away from Malcolm's slashing blow but he wasn't so lucky when Malcolm struck him across the face.
"Call it, call the match!" Alik yelled at the announcer. But his cries were drowned out by the crowd, as they all yelled much the same thing. Alik stood and headed for the exit, straight for the announcer that was down the short flight of steps and in the dusty arena.
Edmond caugh
t his arm though, and Willhelm and Nicolin blocked his path.
"You can't," Edmond snapped and jerked Alik away from the exit. "You can't. If you call it, he forfeits his crown and the lands and my sisters."
"He cheated!" Alik roared and tried to get away from Edmond but his grasp was too tight.
"Malcolm will say the same of you," Lissandra said and shoved him away from the exit. "You must let him finish this."
King Therris was gripping his seat, his eyes glued on the arena in front of him, as the others argued amongst themselves. Alik looked to him for some kind of reason but the man's eyes were not meeting Alik's and he knew he wouldn't get any help there. His own parents didn't have any kind of authority here and Alik's was tenuous at best.
Frustrated, he turned back to the arena and clenched the railing in front of him. He had no power here, no way to sweet talk his way out of this mess.
"You must have faith that he will protect you," Avelina whispered in his ear. She wrapped one hand around his upper arm and dug her nails into his flesh. For some reason, the pain made him suck in a deep breath, brought the present back to him in startling clarity. "You can talk your way into or out of anything. Right?" She shook him when he didn't answer until he nodded his head. "He can fight his way out of anything," she inhaled deeply and turned him to face the arena. "Watch."
Eamon's face was bloody and he was favoring his right arm. Alik clutched the railing harder and regretted his words that made Eamon his champion. He was dirty, bleeding, and limping.
But when Alik looked to Eamon's face, he seemed to be-
"Smiling?" Alik said out loud. "Is he- does he- is he enjoying this?"
"Oh, immensely," Queen Christenne said from behind him. "He'll complain about being stitched up later but right now-" She gestured delicately to the scene before them. "He is alive."
The men met again in the middle of the arena and they turned so quickly, traded blows with such intensity that Alik had a hard time keeping up.
Then they were much too close, much too still and there was blood forming at their sandals.
The silence in the stands was deafening.
When Eamon jerked his sword out of his body and Malcolm crumpled, the ground shook with the people's screams and then Willhelm and Nicolin were leaping down the stairs and to Eamon's side and somehow, Alik made it past Edmond to join them.
"Are you alright?" Alik asked when he finally made it to Eamon who had one arm slung around Willhelm.
Eamon cocked his head at him and Alik watched a bead of blood run across his upper lip. "Your Grace, do I look alright?" He asked.
Up close he looked worse.
"You're right, I apologize," Alik said and pushed people out of the way. "I'll send for the healer."
Chapter 12
After he was bathed and bandaged and fed, Eamon fell on his bed. "There will be no feasts tonight, I command it," he said.
He opened one eye to look at his sisters who were watching him silently.
"I mean it. I rarely command things. But I will not have another feast. I don't care if it is to celebrate my victory. I will not be at the feast tonight."
Lissandra sighed and looked to Alik who sat nearby, with a goblet of wine in one hand. When he caught her looking at him he shook his head. "I believe I have expended my allotted number of favors for the next fortnight," he said.
Avelina huffed and smoothed down her skirt. "Fine. We will say that you needed to rest from your day and that Alik is keeping watch over you. But it will only work for so long so do not think that this will happen tomorrow."
Eamon waved his hand away and the healer came into the room, a small cup in her hands. Eamon raised his eyebrow at her. "What is that?"
"Milk of the poppy," she said and held it out to him.
"I don't need it," he said immediately.
"Please, sire- you must rest," he said.
"No," he said and tried to turn away but could only turn his head without pulling at his stitches.
Alik stood, took the cup from her and led her out the room with the assurance that he would get Eamon to take it. When he turned, Eamon was glaring at him and Lissandra and Avelina were watching him very carefully.
"Come," Alik said gently. "You'll be able to rest."
"I said no."
"We'll take our leave of you," Lissandra said. "Banquets and weddings to plan. Excuses to be made. All that."
And with a twirl of their jewel-bright skirts, they were gone, the door closing behind them.
"Eamon."
"I don't like how it makes me feel. And it gives me nightmares that I cannot wake from. Keep it. Use it yourself. You could use the rest," Eamon said and studied Alik's face. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he looked exhausted.
"We'll share it. Half each," Alik proposed.
Eamon sighed and Alik finally saw his noble shell start to crack. "Will you leave me be if I agree to this?"
"We will both be asleep. Yes," Alik said.
"Fine," Eamon said and held his hand out. He looked down at the comically small glass in his fingertips and took a drink. He held out the glass and Alik finished it. He smacked his lips in distaste and frowned at the glass.
"You should lay down," Eamon said and patted the bed beside him.
Alik had a dozen objections about how neither one of them would rest if Alik was in the same bed as Eamon, but the poppy hit him harder than he thought it would. The room seemed to tilt on its own and he swayed on his feet.
"Yes," Alik said and sat down.
When he turned on his side, Eamon's face was relaxed, his mouth was open slightly, and he was asleep.
It wasn't long after that Alik slept.
ALIK WAS JERKED TO his feet roughly. The poppy had left him feeling numb, his fingers felt thick and his eyes wouldn't stay open. Lights flickered in his eyes and he couldn't focus on anything, everything blurred in front of him.
There were voices and then Eamon was saying something to Alik, but it was far away and Alik was so exhausted, so tired-
He woke again as he was being dragged down the hall. The torches were dim and there were shouts and clashes of things against other things that Alike could not quite figure out-
Alik woke once more when he heard a scream and then a yell and a clatter. He was being jerked about and when he tried to put his feet underneath him, someone landed a punch to his stomach-
Then there was a cell being opened and he was pushed through unceremoniously. He fell onto his side and then someone was thrown in after him. The light was dim and the person who had fallen into him curled away from Alik. He laid there for a moment, tried to force his brain into waking and then hauled himself into sitting.
"Who's there?" A stern voice asked.
The light was wavering and Alik couldn't focus but he recognized the voice.
"Avelina, it's me," Alik murmured.
There was a moment of silence and then she was shuffling her way over to him. The meager light from the door fell on her and he saw that her lip was bruised and puffy and her hair was down around her shoulders. Her gown was torn and dirty and she was trembling. She threw her arms around him and he caught her in his arms and he felt her tremble.
"What happened? Where are we?" Alik asked. He felt like if he could just wake up, if he could just figure out what was happening because it was all so obvious, it was right there on the tip of his tongue but his brain was clouded.
"Alik, I'm so sorry- your parents-" Avelina clutched him for a moment longer.
Alik couldn't be sure if it was the poppy or what she was implying, but another wave of dizziness hit him so hard that he had to push her away and dry heaved in the corner of their dank cell.
"Start from the beginning," Alik said.
He turned his head towards her and watched as she steeled herself for what she had to tell him. "Malcolm was taken home but his sentiment had grown to a few other lords and knights. Earlier this week, I spoke with Lissandra and she also believes the
y were goaded by Vresal people. They-" She paused. "They caught your father unaware. He was drinking," she whispered. "Your mother-"
"Was not a fighter. Not with a sword," Alik provided and swallowed back against another wave of nausea. "Do you know who-" He gestured with his hand. He couldn't say it. He couldn't admit that he was the last of his family, that his parents, for all their faults and fights, were gone.
"Sir Gervase. He is a knight under Malcolm," Avelina whispered.
Gervase, Gervase, Gervase, he repeated the name endlessly in his head, looping it around his thoughts so that he could remember the name later.
"Go on." Alik whispered.
"Your parents - That happened before the final feast of the evening, after Eamon fought Malcolm. We were-" She shook her head and Alik realized for the first time that she was in disarray. "We were unaware. Lissandra only realized halfway through that your parents, as well as ours, were later than usual and-"
Alik gave her a moment.
"She made an excuse and stood to go look for them. She didn't take any knights with her. All she had was Titan. I don't know what happened to her," Avelina's voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm not sure who it was- or how it came to be. The next thing I knew, there was a great clamor from the hall and knights that I am not familiar with burst in," she swallowed and paused. "Edmond and the others did the best that they could, but it seems that the knights that were present were drugged from either the food or wine."
"Where's Edmond?" Alik asked. If Eamon was too drugged and too hurt to carry on, Edmond was their next best hope. Alik could talk his way in and out of most situations, if he had his guard from back home with him, he could probably get them out but-
No. He was alone here.
"There were too many. Our knights, they did what they could but at best, it was five to one," Avelina said. "The last I saw of Edmond, he was stripped of his sword and armor and was being carried away."
"Did any of your knights, or mine- Issat?" Alik asked and slumped to the ground.
A Prince's Duty (The Royal Houses of Sea and Snow, #1) Page 17
