I could see a flash of painful memory spread across her delicate features.
“Maybe she’s highborn?” said the one with the tanned skin. Her coffee-colored eyes sparkled, and a tiny smirk made its way to her face.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Triss. She’s not highborn,” said Kayla, before I could reply.
I was pretty sure she was about my age, but she looked down at me like she was about to scold a child.
“The state of your nails and your clothes, and the way you carry yourself more like a soldier than a lady—you might look highborn, but you can’t fool me.”
I hid my anger and smiled. “Never said that I was.”
“She’s a witch, didn’t you hear?” Triss’ white teeth glistened as she smiled.
“Witches can change their appearance. My mom told me that. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. There’s no way she could have hidden for so long. She shape-changed into a cat. Didn’t you?”
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a witch.”
“What then?” pressed Helen. Her cheeks reddened, and she put her delicate hands on her hips. “How did you do it?”
Although it was Helen who had asked, I could tell that all the women were dying to hear how I’d escaped the clutches of the priests for so long. They had stopped moving, and their eyes fixed on me. While they were obviously intrigued, I could also see that they were angry with me. It was unfair that I had escaped for so long while they had been trapped.
I didn’t want to lie to them, and somewhere I felt that I owed them the truth. They had been here for years, probably since they were eleven or twelve years old. My stomach twisted at the thought of the priests soiling their innocence.
I tugged on my towel.
“After my mother died when I was ten,” I began, not wanting to tell them that she had been murdered by my father, “I was placed in the care of a barren woman. There was a trap door under our living area, and I’d hide there when we had unwelcome company. The priests knew she could never have children, so they seldom came by. But sometimes they did. They had heard rumors over the years, and they would come and check periodically, just to make sure. I was lucky.”
“Until now,” said Helen.
It was almost as if she were glad that I had finally been discovered. It was plain that they all felt that it hadn’t been fair that I’d escaped the clutches of the priests for so long. I saw a hint of envy in their faces. And even if I wanted to hate them for it, I couldn’t. If I’d been one of them, I’d hate me too.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” said Kayla, and we all looked at her. “They own you now.”
Even if I knew this, it still stung when she said it. She shook her head disapprovingly.
“This is a fool’s race. You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She was right. I was a fool participating in a fool’s race for a group of men I detested. I almost trusted them enough to explain why I was really entering the race, but I couldn’t risk Rose’s life by telling them that the high priest was blackmailing me.
Although they resented me, I could see that they were also sympathetic. Maybe because they thought I’d be dead soon. Maybe they were right. A life as a priest’s concubine was better than no life. I couldn’t believe I was thinking this, when just two weeks ago I’d sworn that I’d take my own life rather than become a concubine.
They dressed me in silence, and it only made me feel worse. But I brightened at the sight of my new clothes: a long-sleeved green linen tunic with a leather bodice, a pair of soft leather leggings, knee high leather boots, and a black cloak made of the finest wool I’d ever touched. All my life I’d had hand-me-downs, and most of the time I’d made my own clothes from rags that even the people of the Pit considered trash.
I stood there gaping like a lovesick girl. I was immediately struck with a profound sense of guilt because, for a moment, I’d forgotten where the clothes had come from.
When they were finished dressing me, Triss stood behind me and weaved my hair into one long braid.
“There,” said Triss. She held me by the shoulders and faced me.
“You look beautiful.”
I envied her perfect smile and her sparkling white teeth.
I smiled in spite of myself. “Thank you.”
I had never really thought of myself as beautiful. Rose had said it often enough, but with the priests always on the lookout for me, I wore it like a shadow. My good looks were a curse, just as they were for these women.
“That’s enough, Triss. She’s had enough pampering.”
Kayla was all business now. She straightened to her full height, at least two inches more than the rest of us. “Come along now. This way.”
We all filed behind Kayla as she took us out of the bath area and down another corridor. The only sounds were the soft soles of my boots padding on the polished stone.
The blood pulsed in my ears. I feared the priests, and I feared the race that I knew nothing about.
And after what felt like an eternity, Kayla pushed open the doors to the front entrance.
When the fresh air first hit me, I nearly laughed out loud. The clamor of voices in the distance was stirring and exciting, and it burst our silence.
We passed through the holy district where priests’ houses lined the streets. Their limestone walls sparkled in the early sun, and I was disgusted at their beauty. As soon as we entered the merchant district, the voices grew louder.
Crowds surged between the trees that lined the broad avenues, and music bellowed around us. We made our way down the cobblestone streets, and I could see black flags with gold suns flapping above grand buildings and villas. Noblemen, women, and children in colorful gowns of the richest silks waved small temple flags and paraded in the streets.
I was shocked at the display of sparkling jewels. Just one of their trinkets would have fed Rose and me for years.
Merchants stood by kiosks filled with exotic meats, and servant girls filled the goblets of the wealthy with wine. Although the smell of roasting meat and spices was almost overwhelming, it couldn’t suppress the fear that twisted my insides.
This is it. This is how it starts.
I followed the line of courtesans through the streets of Soul City, but no one paid any attention to the gorgeous, nearly naked women who walked by with their heads held high and their shoulders back. I couldn’t help but admire their courage. I wasn’t entirely sure I could do what they did. They were by far the most beautiful women in the city, and I’m sure they pulled courage from that. But even then, they were still the priests’ property. It didn’t matter how beautiful they were—they were still slaves.
The people of Anglia were more interested in the clothed woman who strolled between the concubines. Me. A few men looked on, curious, but the women caught my attention. Their leering, cruel faces surprised me, and I couldn’t look away. When they saw that I had become self-conscious because of their stares, they burst out laughing. The blood rushed to my face before I could stop it. Everyone could see my face and ears turn red. They laughed harder because they knew they had struck a nerve.
The courtesans didn’t flinch. I guess they were used to this sort of thing. I wasn’t.
I did my best to ignore the laughter behind me and searched for any signs of the other competitors. But there were only merchants and the wealthy here. Where were they taking me?
With every step closer to the race, my breathing became more rapid. I knew I was having a panic attack, and I clamped my trembling fingers into fists. I wouldn’t show fear.
I was distracted from my panic when the concubines suddenly stopped in front of a large wooden building. A giant man stood just inside a set of double doors. He wore a stain-covered gray apron over his uniform, but it did nothing to hide his bulging muscles. A symbol of the sun was stitched over his right breast. Although most of his face was covered with a thick brown beard, I could still see lines around his eyes
that revealed years of hard labor.
“Follow me,” he said, his voice deep and without feeling. He turned and made his way inside the building.
“Um…” I whirled around. “Am I supposed to follow him?”
The concubines were gone.
CHAPTER 10
I WAITED FOR A moment, searching the streets for the women who had scrubbed me clean, but they had vanished like specters. Slightly annoyed at being abandoned without a goodbye or even a good luck, I turned and walked into the building.
It was blazing hot and smelled of burning coal, wood, metal, and sweat. A sheen of sweat quickly covered my body. The building was an armory, and the walls were lined with shelves that overflowed with swords, daggers, spears, regular bows, crossbows and longbows, battle-axes, maces, bludgeons, picks, and an assortment of deadly looking weapons I’d never seen before. Long wooden tables were piled with shields, metal helmets, mail hauberks, and hundreds of leather and metal gauntlets. And through a small opening at the back was a blacksmith shop.
Fire blazed in a giant stone forge at the back, and an anvil sat in the middle of the shop. Tongs, bellows and a variety of hammers varying in size for shaping and finishing weapons were piled on top of worktables. The mystery man was no doubt a blacksmith.
“Take what you like,” said the strapping man without a glance in my direction.
I walked over to the nearest table, but I didn’t take anything. I had hoped my own weapons would be returned. I missed my lucky dagger. But I was fooling myself. I didn’t know what I needed.
The priest had said that this race was deadly, and that most of the competitors never made it back. But what did I need? I was skilled with a blade and a short sword, but I wasn’t trained in combat. It just came naturally to me. Worse, I didn’t know how to use most of these weapons. If I was meant to weapon up, it confirmed my suspicions that the race was going to get ugly very quickly. What kind of weapons would the others bring with them? I was probably the only inexperienced peasant in the damn race. I had to be smart and stick with what I knew.
I swallowed hard. “What should I take?”
I hoped I’d hidden the tremor in my voice.
The blacksmith turned and watched me for a moment.
“Nothing fancy. Go for something that you can easily draw and use, like a dagger or a short sword. You’re too thin to wield a regular sword. And anything else you can carry, nothing too heavy, you need speed.”
I smiled. He hadn’t insulted me and had made a truthful and helpful judgment call.
I strapped a leather weapons belt around my waist and selected two daggers, a large hunting knife, and a silver short sword. I bound my forearms with thick leather bracers.
I spun around and grinned. “Done.”
The blacksmith raised his eyebrows in approval, but before I could ask if I should use a leg strap, a temple guard appeared.
“I’m here to escort you to the race.” He stood with his hand on the hilt of his sword. The hard expression on his face made it clear that I should expect no charity from him.
“Yes, sir,” I murmured under my breath.
“The high priest instructed me to give you this.”
He handed me an oval-shaped cage made of gold. It was the size of my hand and looked like a small birdcage with an opening and a lock.
“If you get the stone,” he raised his brows, obviously questioning my abilities, “you’re to put the stone inside. Understood?”
He was very specific.
“Got it.” I tested the weight of the cage. It wasn’t too heavy, but the gold would feed a thousand hungry bellies.
“Why do I have to put the stone in this?”
The guard ignored my question completely and turned to leave. After I’d mumbled my thanks to the blacksmith, I followed the guard back through the streets.
“Excuse me, but is there any food for the racers? I’ve hadn’t had much since I was locked up and I was wondering…”
The guard kept walking without answering.
“Guess not,” I said grumpily.
We merged onto the main street, moving west towards Soul City’s west gate. We rounded a corner between the tall limestone buildings that towered beside us, and the gate came into view.
It looked and sounded as though the entire population of the six kingdoms of Arcania had come to see the start of the race. Thousands of nobles and highborn folks crowded around the west gate and stood on the ramparts. Musicians played a melody I had never heard before, and I let the music cheer me for a moment. The unmistakable white robes of the six high priests glimmered on a raised platform. Like great kings, one for each of the six kingdoms, they sat on thrones and looked down on us all. While they all differed physically, they all shared the same cold, evil look in their eyes.
The high priest of Anglia’s pale skin and eyes were lost in the brilliance of his silk white robe. He looked godlike and surreal, which was probably what he was going for. He held a jeweled staff with a yellow diamond and a sun symbol on the top. His cold, self-important smile made my stomach churn. He hadn’t seen me yet.
As I looked more carefully I could see that the priests were accompanied by grotesque, shadowy figures that hovered next to them. No one else seemed to notice these small, gnarled beasts that knelt beside each priest. I suspected that I might be the only one who could see them. While they were grotesque, their wet eyes told a story of pain, and I immediately felt sorry for them. They were probably slaves, like the rest of us.
I searched the crowds for Brother Edgar, but I couldn’t find him. I had the unmistakable feeling that he was watching me from somewhere.
We finally came to a stop at the entrance to the west gate, and I saw the other champions, my competition.
There was no mistaking them. Representatives from all of the conquered nations were lined up on their steeds facing the west wall.
I recognized the blue and white flag of Fransia, and the orange and yellow flag with the eagle and snake emblem of Romila.
Even atop their great horses the Girmanians were huge. They were broad-shouldered men and women whose muscles bulged underneath their thick leather clothes and steel armor. They looked like fairy tale characters as their horses chomped at their bits under their green, black, and yellow colors. I could see the intricate designs that had been shaved into their heads.
The riders from Purtula were dark-skinned, and the fierceness of their appearance was matched in the intensity of their eyes. Their purple and green flag was emblazoned with two snakes coiled around a sword.
The Espanians’ emblem depicted a red dragon on a blue shield, and their red and blue uniforms shone in the sunlight.
I had the sudden impression that I was being watched.
A woman with a red dragon stitched to her cloak was staring at me. She was Espanian with coffee-colored skin and dark glossy hair. She looked like she’d been in the sun a while. Her expression was curious and intense. Was this an intimidation? There was something strange about the way she was looking at me.
She turned away, and I continued to survey the other champions.
I spotted the Anglians. I knew their heraldic badge all too well. The red and gold lions embroidered on their tunics were the royal seal of Anglia.
I thought it strange that the priests had allowed the representatives and supporters from the different realms to wear the royal colors of their countries. I would have thought that everyone would have been obliged to wear the simple black and gold emblem of the Empire. Perhaps the priests had reached some agreement with the states they had conquered regarding the display of colors.
My eyes rested on a man with his back to me. When he turned around, his appearance took my breath away.
His white tunic was cut low and revealed his broad, muscular chest. His face was flawless, as though the Creator himself had molded him. His thick dark blond hair fell in soft curls around his square jaw, and I could see his ocean-blue eyes staring back at me. He smiled a cheeky co
nfident smile. I turned my head away quickly, but I knew he’d seen the flush on my cheeks.
New movement caught my eyes, and I spotted a plainer looking group of men and women on horseback. Their mounts were regular carthorses, and they wore thick linen tunics and cloaks like the one I had worn the day I’d been caught thieving. Their clothes were travel-stained, and they looked weary. Although their weapons and clothes were not on a par with those of the nobles from the other realms, there was a fierce pride in the folk from the Pit.
I should have been representing them, not the priests.
I counted quickly. These were at least a dozen racers from each realm, and that meant more than seventy in the race. I turned to make a comment to the guard next to me, but he had vanished.
And then the last person I’d expected to see here stepped up to me.
“Are you all right?” asked Mad Jack.
It was more of a statement than a question. I recognized the two cronies who stood next to him. The tall freckled redhead was Leo, and the shorter one, whose hair was shaved to the scalp and who stank of ale, was Will. They said nothing, but watched me nonetheless.
Mad Jack sighed in relief and then smiled at me. It was a smile that would have sent me to my knees weeks earlier, but now all I did was stiffen.
“Thank the Creator. I was afraid…”
He didn’t finish but looked surprised at himself for what he was about to reveal.
I didn’t care how genuinely concerned he seemed. My feelings of betrayal and hurt cascaded down on me until I could hardly breathe. I could feel my angry tears well up, but I suppressed them and glared at him. I clenched my hands into fists.
“What are you doing here?” I hissed.
I didn’t try to hide the anger in my voice or how loudly I spoke.
“I thought by now you’d be in your new manor, spending all the coin you got from the priests for turning me in. I do hope I was worth it.”
Mad Jack’s jaw tightened, and something dark flashed in his eyes. He leaned forward, and his lips brushed my ear.
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