by Drea Damara
“Ricky,” Sarah said and glanced around to make sure they were alone. “I think you should go home.”
“No. I can’t. Not while I know you’re still stuck here!” he exclaimed defiantly.
“I’ll be safe,” she said insistantly, walking over to him. “This is stupid. It’s not worth you getting hurt or…”
“Look, whether he meant to or not, my father started this mess. If I leave, I can’t imagine the family name will keep you safe in Farwin Wood if you’re still stuck here. The way I see it, I have no choice.”
Henry came up beside Ricky. “He’s got a point Sarah. It’s not safe for him to fight, but if he doesn’t, you won’t be safe.”
“I’d rather take my chances then let you go through with this!” she yelled. “I won’t let you go through with this!”
Ricky inhaled and pursed his lips. “Well, I’m going to go through with it no matter what you say. At least let me make sure I’m prepared.”
Sarah’s body shook with the urge to cry. “I can’t bear this. What would your father say?”
“I think he’d actually understand,” Ricky said in a calm voice.
Sarah shook her head and looked away. She’d cried enough in the last week, and she couldn’t bear the shame of it anymore. There had to be something she could do to stop Ricky from so nobly going to his death. “I’m going to search every inch of this place again and again until I find what I lost,” she responded with more fortitude. “Don’t wear yourself out,” she scolded before she left them.
VASIMUS RETURNED to the hall at lunchtime after seeing to the arena preparations. No one met him at the table, and he finally commenced eating after his staff informed him that the men were practicing, and Lady Sarah did not have an appetite. Satisfied with this report, knowing none of them had fled, he brooded over the silent treatment he was receiving by their absence. After he finished, he left again to continue the duel arrangements and did not make it back to the hall until dinnertime.
When everyone arrived for dinner, Vasimus thought he saw Sarah shake her head while she was looking across the table at her nephew. Her expression looked bleak. “I see you have all decided to join me this time,” Vasimus said as they took their seats.
No one responded as the servers brought in the meal food. Vasimus looked at Sarah again; her attention was fixed on her empty plate, her face seeming indignant. The only one who looked at him was Henry on occasion. He didn’t like the anger in the man’s eyes and couldn’t help but notice Henry’s lip seemed to curl up to the side each time their eyes met. They ate in silence, and he couldn’t think of anything to offer as he chewed, sensing they all held bitterness toward him and worry over the impending duel. He finally settled on that as a topic of discussion.
“My guards said you took the liberty of the training area today,” he said cordially to Ricky. “Ranthrop’s thrusts are clumsy and often from a downward angle, but his strength is great enough that he can fight so precariously and still come out successful.”
“Thanks for the insight,” Ricky replied, sounding unenthused.
Perhaps if he told the young lord the news about how people were reacting to the upcoming peace it would brighten his mood. “The talk in the town is that people from all over Farwin Wood are expected to attend tomorrow.”
“Does that make you happy, Lord Vasimus?” Sarah muttered and set her spoon down.
“It makes me happy that the people unanimously approve of peace and will be mixed together in one place so freely to witness it, without fear of repercussion or mistrust.”
“Imagine that—a promise between two men was all it took to allow them to do so,” she replied.
Vasimus shot her a look realizing her implication. He looked back to Ricky and Henry and was met with a hateful audience. He set his fork down; just as the metal rattled on the wood table, Sarah forced her chair back and stood up.
“You’ll excuse me, please,” she nearly whispered as she turned and walked toward the door to the patio.
Vasimus pressed his palms on the table to stand but stopped when Henry quickly rose from his chair. It was clear the man intended to follow her, which annoyed him.
“I’ll see after your aunt, Ricky,” Henry said to the boy. Henry made no effort to be quiet the way he shoved his chair back into place before he turned on his heel and walked out.
VASIMUS LEANED back in his chair and exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. “Your aunt’s every opinion perplexes me these days. She was much easier to speak to when we were younger.”
“Well, maybe good looks only get you so far with women as they get older,” Ricky said.
“Ha! You understand why I felt compelled to commit to this duel, do you not?”
Ricky sighed and dropped his fork. Even though he had something of an appetite, he couldn’t muster swallowing the food. “I understand, even though agreements like this can be reached by peaceful negotiations. I think if my father had any idea things had gotten this out of hand he might have come back.”
“Are men so weak in your world that they cower away from fighting when there is no other alternative?”
Now he’s really starting to piss me off, Ricky thought. “I’m not going to be a coward, even if I know I will likely die. It’s just that we don’t give way to violence as easily as you seem to do in Farwin Wood. It’s not weak to debate with your enemy, to speak like men, to compromise. That takes more strength in character than any display of force.” Ricky couldn’t believe what a statesman he sounded like.
“I would like to see this take place in your land, so I could understand it, if it’s even possible. You are young. What can you know of war?”
“We have our history and we teach our children its importance so we don’t make the same mistakes for their future,” Ricky began. He segued into a version of World War II for Vasimus to prove his point, ad-libbing countries and Adolf Hitler for terms like “houses” and “lords” so that he would understand. If anything, the tale would keep him from chasing after his aunt and Henry out on the patio.
OUTSIDE IN the cool night air, Sarah hugged herself and looked out beyond the patio wall. Tomorrow her nephew could die. If that happened, she couldn’t even go home to explain to Richard what a terrible chaperone she’d been to his only son. Tomorrow could also mark the beginning of her dismal future in Farwin Wood. Would Ranthrop keep his promise of peace regardless of the duel’s outcome? If he kept his promise and her nephew died, she wouldn’t even be able to rejoice with or for the people of Farwin Wood. At least she would have Netta and Dergus to spend her glum days with after she lowered Ricky to his grave.
Sarah wanted to have faith in her nephew, but she kept thinking of Ranthrop’s size and his temper when he had asked about her brother. She hadn’t told Ricky, but a tainted sword from Blinney Lane probably was no match for someone the size of Ranthrop. And what about Henry? This was not the way she wanted to say goodbye to him. She’d never see him again once she sent him back. She knew Franci and Mary would know better than to allow him to return here.
“Sarah?”
“Henry…” She sighed on seeing him walk toward her, his gait much less intimidating than the stomping steps of Vasimus, who she had worried would follow her.
“Are you okay?” He rubbed her shoulder as he came up to stand next to her.
“Henry, I found nothing today. I thought maybe I could save him from this…this foolish duel. I—” She stammered for words to express her feelings, but exhaled when she looked at Henry’s sympathetic expression. She’d never opened up to Henry about anything, and now, as she confessed her deepest anguish, she was met with nothing but kindness from him.
“Just don’t think so hard. Keep looking tonight. And Sarah, I can’t imagine this Ranthrop would truly want to harm a teenage boy. Maybe he’ll settle for just humiliating him tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “No. I told him I had no contact with Richard. When he learned that Ricky was here, that likely enraged him
and led him to believe I had lied to protect Richard. No, he’ll want his duel and probably thinks it’s a way to draw Richard out by challenging his son. To these people a family member stands to honor their house, regardless of who it is. At home Ricky’s barely a man, but to them he’s old enough to duel.”
“Sarah, I will do whatever I can to keep him safe tomorrow. I promise you that.”
“No, Henry! I don’t want to lose my nephew, but if you interfere and keep them from their fight, they’ll kill the both of you for sure.” She grasped his hand. “I wish the stubborn kid would just go home!”
“Sarah…” Henry hooked a finger under her jaw, gently guiding her view back to him. “If your roles were reversed, would you leave Ricky stranded here?”
“That’s not fair, Henry.” Her lip quivered, and she pinched her eyes shut.
“I know it’s not fair. None of this is fair, but it’s true, isn’t it? I know you can’t right now, but you should be proud of him for being so responsible and for loving you so much. You’ve seen what broken hearts have done to people here. Would you want Ricky to live like that knowing you were trapped here, surrounded by the wrath of an entire kingdom he could have prevented? That’s a lot to ask of a young man.”
Sarah let out a painful sob. She brought her hand up and clasped it around Henry’s wrist. “I know I can’t stop him, and I know you won’t drown him for me either. You stupid stubborn men.” She paused for a breath. “But promise me something?”
Henry closed the little distance that remained between them. “What?”
“No matter what happens tomorrow, promise me that you will leave immediately and never come back.”
“Sarah—”
“I mean it, Henry! If I have to stay here the rest of my life, I don’t want to see your face reminding me of what I…”
“What?”
“Of everything I truly lost.”
“Sarah,” Henry whispered and brushed the hair from her face, “I will leave when you find what you’re looking for and not a minute sooner.”
“No, Henry! Tomorrow. Promise me!” She glared at him.
Henry slid his hand down Sarah’s hair to the base of her neck. He pursed his lips tightly together as their eyes remained locked, but her angry expression did not change. Did she still love this Vasimus character? How could she ask this of him? Didn’t she know leaving her here would torture him? He couldn’t stand thinking of her living in misery all alone here or, worse yet, with Vasimus and the cruel authoritative way he treated her. Every fiber in his body wanted to refuse her request, but it was the only thing she’d ever asked of him, even if he didn’t think it was good for her. He cupped the back of her neck and squeezed when he gritted out his reply: “I promise.” He looked away as soon as he’d said it, disgusted with himself.
“Thank you,” Sarah said and let out a long breath; she grasped the front of his vest with both hands. She tugged on the fabric, hoping it would bring his eyes back to hers and remove the bitter look from his face.
“And will you promise me that you’ll never give up looking for what you lost?” Henry finally spoke and pinned his stormy green eyes on her.
“I promise,” she whispered with conviction.
Henry suddenly had the instinct to pull away from her. If the possibility of never seeing her again was real, he didn’t want the memory of even the smallest touch to haunt him. He already had five wasted years of passing glances and hands brushing that clouded his every waking thought. He took a step back, but Sarah caught one of his hands and squeezed it. She looked at him in questioning wonder.
“I’m not a noble man, Sarah, but I’d do anything to rescue you. You just have to let me,” he muttered.
“Henry, you don’t owe me anything. Don’t dwell on me, please. Look what it’s done to Vasimus after all these years. He never stopped loving me, even after he thought I was dead, and it’s twisted him into something bitter and hateful.”
Henry shook his head as he spoke, sounding broken up by anguish. “Love shouldn’t do that to a man. If you were mine, I would try to make the world the kind of place it was when you were in it.” He let her fingers fall from his hand and walked back into the hall.
Sarah watched him go and felt like something had just kicked her in the heart. She braced herself with her arms and squeezed her fingers into a fist on the hand that had just left his. She wanted to savor the feel of that touch—the brief touch of a man who’d just spoken a credo she’d been longing to hear.
DAUNDECORT ARENA
SARAH WATCHED Vasimus’s back shift up and down with each step his stroomphblutel took, her disdain for him increasing with each movement. She and Ricky rode behind him out of Daundecort Hall’s gates. The light breeze in the warm air made the skirt of her shimmery light gray dress flutter up at the hem. It was the only thing beautiful about the day. To her surprise, Netta and Dergus had arrived that morning, bringing with them the finest clothing of House of Allister’s colors for her and Ricky to wear. She was humbled by the gesture and was grateful that they were still proud of her family’s name. It was a thoughtful comfort.
She glanced over at Ricky and felt a sense of pride in his appearance. Dergus had brought a shined shirt of chain mail for him, which he wore under a finely stitched tunic. If they were going to be on display for this atrocious moment in Farwin Wood history, at least they looked dignified. She cast her head backward, knowing Henry was riding just behind them, but gave herself the reassurance by glimpsing the nose of his stroomphblutel.
Ricky could hear the hum of voices as they approached the arena. It was surrounded by high stone walls with seating on each side of the arena. There was a wood awning above the seating areas and all around the perimeter of the wall. He let out a long breath and tried to peer over the awning as they made their descent down the road to his place of death. He noticed a bright flash of red approaching from the opposite side of the arena’s exterior. His stomach turned at the sight of the man he assumed was Ranthrop Groslivo.
Vasimus held out a hand for them to stay behind, and he rode up to the outer gates where Ranthrop met him on his own mount. Their faces retained the expressions of enemies as the two men eyed each other, but then Ricky saw their mouths move. He couldn’t hear what they were saying against the noise coming from inside the arena. He took the time to study his opponent undetected. Ranthrop wore a similar shirt of mail under his own tunic, and Ricky scoffed when he noticed this. “Like he needs chain mail,” hesaid, grumbling, looking at the size of the man’s arms, nearly as big around as Henry’s tree trunk biceps.
Sarah reached over from her stroomphblutel and grasped his hand. “Be fast. And if he fights dirty, then don’t be afraid to do the same. Make yourself smaller every chance you can,” she said as she started to dismount.
“That won’t be hard to do,” he mumbled and got down.
Sarah came around her stroomphblutel and hugged him. Clasping his face in her hands, she said, “Ricky, I hate this and wish you were more of a coward, but…I’m proud of you and your father would be proud of you too.” She gave him a pained smile and looked to be on the verge of tears.
He patted her hand and smiled. “You forgive me? For being a pain in the ass?”
His aunt let out a ragged laugh and pulled him to her. He felt her head press against his while she held him. Was this really it?
“I love you, Aunt Sarah. Try to be happy after all of this, okay?”
“I love you, too,” she whispered.
“May you fight well, Lord Ricky,” Vasimus said and offered his hand. Ricky went to shake it, but Vasimus clasped it and tugged Ricky’s hand toward him, giving him a strange look when he didn’t do the same. Geez. He hadn’t even learned how they shook hands here and he was going to die. Vasimus then gestured to two of his guards for Ricky and Henry to follow.
Sarah watched them go, seeing them both looking like they didn’t want to leave her. She turned and found Vasimus watching her curiously with his han
d extended to a wooden doorway in the arena wall. A Daundecort guard bowed to her and opened the door as she approached.
Vasimus passed her and waited for her on the stairs under the arena seats that led up to the honored seating box, and she got the impression they would make an entrance together. She came up and stood next to him. His hand grasped hers and then placed her palm on the crook of his arm. Her hand felt like a dead appendage to her for how much she wanted to be free of his touch. She refused to look at him and forced her blank stare to remain on the ascent in front of them, knowing his eyes were on her.
“He will fight well, Sarah. I am sure. Do not hate me for allowing this. Your family will be honored today by the peace that Ricky will bring to the land.”
Eyes still fixed ahead, she responded, “I’m already honored. There’s a boy out there willing to do what a man had twenty years to accomplish.”
It was a cruel thing to say, she knew, but it was true. She heard him make a sound as if her words had cut him. Without a word, he led them up the stairs toward the sound of the cheering crowd.
They walked to a seating box surrounded by a low wall that separated it from the bleachers that filled the rest of the seating area. The stadium-style seating ended at a stone wall that overlooked the dirt arena some fifteen feet below. Behind them, the bleachers were filled to the brim with people from the Daundecort lands.
Sarah caught a glimpse of the cheering faces as she went around the wall behind their seating box. People waved and watched as she and Vasimus approached the two high-backed chairs that awaited them. When was the last time anyone had sat there?
Across the vast arena was yet another stadium section of seating, filled from top to bottom. Sarah saw not only villagers but also many guards and foot soldiers wearing red tunics, and she knew that it was full of people from Ranthrop’s lands. As they waved and cheered toward her and Vasimus, they threw flowers out into the fighting area in their direction, although none of them would have made it across the expanse to where they sat.
