The contenders took their positions and Firen called for them to start. They did so, slowly.
“This is ridiculous,” Taro muttered. “When would she ever need to do this? It’s not a practical experience.”
“It would be handy in battle,” Browne suggested. “To be able to endure days and nights of military conflict.”
“There aren’t going to be any more military conflicts,” Taro responded firmly. “This is going to end things, one way or another.”
I hoped so, but I couldn’t feel optimistic about it. Horrible violence had been introduced to everyone. Could we all really put this aside, now that we’d been exposed to it? Gods help us if we slid back to the vicious mayhem people had regularly endured centuries before.
One of the rungs on one of the hurdles was pulled right out when Aryne put her hand on it. A lot of people in the audience hissed. The majority, it seemed. Was Aryne gaining supporters?
The shifting rung caused Aryne to swing a little, but she was able to swing back and she grabbed the top of the hurdle, quickly climbing over.
The rung could have come out at any time, so it was illogical for me to feel it had been a deliberate attempt to undermine Aryne.
“An indication of how she handles the unexpected,” the Commissioner murmured. “This would be an excellent training exercise.”
Only if he wanted to earn the hatred of everyone he trained.
“The rungs fall out!” someone shouted to Green. Giving her warning. The wretch.
Green slowed right down so she could pull on each rung before trusting it with her weight. Too bad it really wasn’t about who finished faster.
Wait a moment. Did that mean one of them could just saunter from hurdle to hurdle, take her sweet time climbing over them, and last longer because she hadn’t exerted herself too intensely? That was probably allowed by the rules, too.
But it would be a hell of a lot less impressive.
Neither of them thought of it, though. That was good, I supposed.
It ended the same way it had ended the day before. Green tripped and couldn’t get up. And again, Aryne ran an extra lap just to rub it in.
As expected, Ogawa found for Green. Lady Oval and Trader Thax found for Aryne.
“Lady Aryne is triumphant,” Firen announced. “Contenders may rest for two hours. They may not sleep.”
Aryne stumbled over to our table. After she had drunk another mug of water, Browne gave her another dose of kyrra.
That couldn’t be good for Aryne, consuming so much so quickly.
And half-way through our meal my concern was realised. Aryne’s face became a little paler than it should be and she grabbed the nearest bowl and threw up into it. The sound of her retching was loud, seeming to bounce off the walls, and everyone stopped talking.
Browne hurried back over to us and checked Aryne’s eyes and throat and put a palm against her forehead. “I don’t think she’s ill,” she said in a low voice.
Aryne grabbed another bowl to vomit into, a bowl that was still half full of soup. Which was fine. We’d all lost our appetites, anyway.
“It’s the kyrra,” I whispered. “She’s had too much.”
“That’s possible,” Browne admitted.
“Could it be poison?” Taro asked. “Right now, Aryne’s one test ahead. Sort of.”
“It would count as interference,” said Browne.
“This is important. Green might think the risk worth it. And she might think we couldn’t prove it.”
“Can you tell?” I asked Browne.
Aryne was running out of bowls.
“I didn’t bring the right ingredients,” Browne fretted. “I didn’t expect anything like this.”
“Lord Firen!” Taro called out. “A word, please.”
Firen frowned. “I won’t speak to you alone,” he said. “I risk accusations of favouritism if I do so. If you wish to speak to me in private, Lady Green must be present.”
That was a legitimate position to take, but it was inconvenient. I didn’t want to discuss in front of her the possibility that Green had poisoned Aryne. If she hadn’t, I didn’t want to give her any ideas.
I looked at Green. She was watching Aryne with great satisfaction. That didn’t necessarily mean she was the cause of Aryne’s discomfort. She would triumph at any sign of weakness.
“Tea,” Aryne croaked. “Give me tea. Please.”
Druce fetched a cup for her.
Aryne was careful sipping her tea, but she looked a little better after she’d finished. It probably helped that a servant had come out of nowhere to remove the vomit-laden bowls. It certainly helped settle my stomach.
“I’ll drink tea and soup,” Aryne said in a clearer voice. “Then I’ll have more kyrra.”
“If you start retching in the middle of the test, there’s no chance of you winning it,” Taro warned her.
“And if they are poisoning you, it has to be through the food,” Browne added.
“I’ll make the soup myself. No one would have anticipated I would do that. The ingredients in the kitchen were meant to be used by both Green and me. They wouldn’t have meddled with them there, in case Green accidentally chose a tainted ingredient.”
That was probably true.
Aryne didn’t linger to hear any further suggestions or warnings. She just left the table.
“We’re going to the kitchen,” Taro told Firen.
“Why?”
“Is it against the rules?”
Firen considered that. “No.”
“She’s not to leave the room,” Green objected.
“She’s not to leave the palace,” Firen corrected her.
“I insist on going with her.”
“Fine,” Aryne barked back.
So a ridiculous crowd followed Aryne to the kitchen. As I watched Aryne pick out her ingredients, I realised she was preparing a soup designed for her tastes. That was far better for her stomach than what was being served in the ballroom.
Over the following two hours, Aryne drank the whole pot. Not only did she manage to keep it down, it seemed to revive her a little.
Just before the next test was to start, Aryne held her hand out to Browne.
Browne hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“I really don’t have a choice, do I?”
No, she really didn’t.
We watched her anxiously as she licked the kyrra off her palm. The tension returned to her. She didn’t look nauseated.
It had taken a bit of time for the nausea to kick in after the last dose. She still might end up vomiting in the middle of the test. One of the most dangerous tests, of course.
We returned to the ballroom. There was only a single table remaining, two identical rapiers lying upon it.
Green swiftly grabbed up one of the rapiers, carefully testing the point and the side of the blade, and then the balance. It was obvious she wanted to try the other as well, but Aryne got to it first.
Physically fighting over the throne was so barbaric I could barely stay silent about it. It had nothing to do with being a good ruler. It was supposed to symbolise health and the ability to protect the people from harm, but it was really nothing more than a brutal residual from less civilised times.
Then again, the traditional performance of the code didn’t involve an actual fight. The heir was required only to demonstrate knowledge of the sport.
“The classic rules are suspended for this test,” said Firen. “It is legitimate to strike with either the point or the side of the blade. There is no target area. You may strike any part of the body. There are no rules, there are no points, there will be no pauses. The arbitrators will not be delivering judgments. The first to raise blood wins the test. Take positions.”
Aryne and Green faced each other, standing close enough to cross their blades.
“Begin.”
The word was barely out of his mouth before Green thrust her blade at Aryne’s stomach. Aryne parried with a wide swing of her rapi
er. Green angled her blade in a way that looked odd – at least, to me – that had her point driving straight to Aryne’s face, her eyes in particular.
Green wasn’t going for first blood. She was aiming to kill.
Aryne wasn’t able to counter this strike with her blade. Instead, she just dropped, rolled, and then jumped back to her feet, teetering a little over one of the cracks in the floor.
It quickly became clear that Green had far more skill in this activity than Aryne. Green’s attacks were vicious but controlled. Aryne, for the most part, had to rely on dodging rather than using her rapier. I could see that Green was actually directing where Aryne was going. She slashed at Aryne’s left side, then her right, and then back at her left. Even when Aryne jumped out of reach, Green lost only a moment in crowding into her again.
Aryne had been trained for this for years. No one had ever indicated she lacked talent in this area. Maybe she didn’t, but maybe Green was just particularly good. And Aryne had to work far harder to defend herself than Green did attacking. If the match became a test of endurance, Aryne would not only lose, but it was likely she’d be killed.
And Druce would be taken down with her.
I wanted to jump in. I didn’t care if it meant Aryne lost the whole ball, I wasn’t going to stand there and let her get killed.
But if I interfered, she’d end up dead anyway, one way or another. And all of this, everyone’s work and courage and sacrifice, would have been for nothing. Sometimes I hated life.
Besides, I didn’t know how to use a rapier, did I? I could have learned. I’d had plenty of opportunity. Why had I persisted in refusing? Any weapon was handy. Stupid.
Aryne backed up, and backed up, and backed up. The closest spectators parted to get out of her way.
Damn it, Green was forcing her to the wall, and Aryne just couldn’t escape.
And then, she was trapped, her ability to use her rapier hampered.
Green thrust at her face.
For some reason Aryne raised her empty left hand instead of her rapier. Green’s blade sliced through the side of her palm. Aryne cried out in pain, blood rising to the skin.
But Green wasn’t satisfied with winning. She pulled back to strike again.
Aryne used the moment to slide down the wall and roll again. She rolled herself right into a stone jutting up out of the floor. She used her right hand to avoid crushing her face against the stone, dropping her rapier.
“Enough!” Firen called out.
Green didn’t stop. She jumped forward and sliced the side of Aryne’s arm.
Aryne struggled to her feet. It looked like Green was going to stab her in the back.
“You will forfeit if you don’t stop!” Firen shouted.
“That’s not in the rules!” Ogawa objected.
Apparently, the word forfeit was able to infiltrate Green’s mind, for she finally stopped. Her feral grin was disturbing.
“Lady Green is triumphant,” Firen announced.
And that was the end of the tests.
Looking back, I counted the triumphs of each contender. Out of eight tests, Aryne had won four and Green had won three, with the law test undecided. So, if they found in favour of Green, each participant would have won four tests.
A tie. Possible because of the even number of tests. No one thought of that before because we were all brilliant.
“Lady Ovan, Trader Thax, do you have a judgement concerning the legal test?” Firen asked.
“I find in favour of Lady Aryne,” said Lady Ovan.
“I find in favour of Lady Aryne,” said Trader Thax.
“Lady Aryne has given us a superior performance of the code,” Firen proclaimed. “She is entitled to the crown.”
People gasped as though they never would have guessed that for themselves, and then spoke, and then argued. The volume of the chatter rose quickly.
They shut up when Green shouted, “The rules don’t state the person who provides a superior performance wins the crown!”
That was the way of devising new customs, wasn’t it? You couldn’t predict what might go wrong, what might be lacking, until it was attempted.
And then, Taro broke the silence. “An event’s coming.”
Um, what?
Firen frowned. “Erstwhile doesn’t have events.”
“Well, it’s about to have one now.”
It was possible. Cold sites could go hot and hot sites could go cold. It was just, well, how was that for timing?
“No, there isn’t,” Ogawa said sharply.
Taro stared at her. “Are you serious?” He, a Source, would know. She, a Shield, would not.
“You’re going to cause one to kill us all!”
“Then why would I warn you?”
Ogawa flushed, aware she had just said something stupid, but she persevered. “To make us think you’re not doing it.”
“Why would I do that? We’ve won.”
“No, you haven’t!” said Green.
“Natson?” said Firen. “What do you think?”
That was nasty, throwing the flame to her.
Apparently, Natson thought so, too, and she glared at Firen. “I assumed the person who won the most tests would be deemed successful.”
“There is an earthquake coming,” Taro repeated loudly.
“Tenneson will handle it,” Green said dismissively.
“Then why isn’t he?”
“There is no earthquake,” said Tenneson.
Taro raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You really can’t feel that?”
I looked at Druce and she shrugged and shook her head. She couldn’t feel it, either.
But Taro had always been able to feel the onset of an event almost before it happened.
Apparently, Green thought this a suitable moment to take another shot at Aryne. “This filthy, backward, illiterate, uncivilised child would never be fit to rule even her own life,” she claimed. “As she never has. She’s under the control of the Triple S. Giving her control over all of us would be pure idiocy.”
“An. Event. Is. Coming.”
“She stole jewellery to win one of the tests.”
I’d known that would come back on us. Pointing out that the item had been returned would just sound pathetic.
How had she found out?
“The merchant was left feeling satisfied,” said Aryne.
Green ignored that. “That’s all she is. A thief. That’s all she can do. She has no other skills. She has no experience with directing other people. And members of the Triple S have no understanding – no honest understanding – of coin. How will she use the taxes collected from you? Not wisely, you can be sure of that.”
The palace began to tremble. Chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling.
“You’re causing this,” Ogawa accused Taro.
“If I am, Tenneson will be able to stop me, right?”
Not a chance.
Taro had an unusual amount of control over his instincts to channel when an event arrived, but he would be forced to channel if no one else stepped in.
“Tenneson,” said Green. “Perform your duties.”
“I can’t,” Tenneson responded.
What?
“Ogawa has failed me in the past. I can’t trust her not to fail me now.”
He’d been working with her for months, probably years, learning to shift soil and create events. Why was he afraid to channel now?
Could it be that they hadn’t channelled a natural event, something out of their control, since the disaster at High Scape? Was that the problem?
Or had he just changed sides? That seemed a much more likely motive. It was unfathomable, how people so easily flipped loyalties. How could anyone trust anyone?
“Tenneson!” Ogawa was furious.
“There’s nothing I can do.”
The rumbling of the ground could finally be heard through the thick walls of the palace. I wondered what was going on outside, how people were reacting. They’d liv
ed in Erstwhile confident that they’d never have to endure an event. They were probably reacting with less sense than those who lived in hot sites.
“Someone do something!” one of the spectators shouted. Pleaded.
“Ready, Lee?” Taro asked.
“Of course.”
It was not a powerful event. I had no doubt Tenneson could have done it. Taro quickly quieted it.
The falling plaster took a little longer to stop. Everyone spent several tense silent moments watching it, waiting for hints of other damage. None came. I released a slow breath in relief. There were a lot of people in the room and panic would have created a bloody nightmare.
Firen recovered his composure. “All a monarch has to do is inspire loyalty. Lady Aryne has inspired the loyalty of people of every work and level. Farmers who never chose to destroy their homes and stock rather than give them to her. Merchants prepared to deliver their best. The Triple S: the proper establishment, not a handful of deserters. Members of the High Landed. And the most talented Pair in the world.”
This was not the time to point out that levels of talent really were impossible to accurately quantify.
“After His Majesty died,” Firen continued, “it was discovered that many of us were subjected to casts during the delivery of our oaths. I would put forward the belief that mere theft pales before the act of robbing us of our wits.”
So the power of the spells cast during the oaths of fealty had dissipated.
“I am His Majesty’s chosen heir,” Green insisted.
“We have no evidence of that.”
“The succession documents were drawn!”
“No one has seen them.”
“You made sure no one would admit to seeing them,” she accused him. “What did you promise them?”
“Why don’t we seek the opinion of those who witnessed this code?” Firen suggested, neatly avoiding that question. “Those who believe Lady Aryne would be the superior monarch, state ‘aye.’”
Green looked baffled. I didn’t blame her. “What are you doing?” she asked.
The chorus of ‘ayes’ was loud and surprising.
“Those who would chose Green?”
The chorus of ‘ayes’ was weak and also surprising. I noticed some spectators didn’t speak at all.
A vote to determine our leader. Interesting idea. One I hoped didn’t become a permanent part of custom. It would make succession a nightmare if we had to vote every time we needed a new monarch.
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