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"Your Highness, if I could get a word after dinner," Sir Malcolm said as they sat at dinner the next night. Alik paused as he reached for a napkin.
Eamon and Lissandra didn't even glance at each other as they settled themselves on either side of Alik.
"That won't be possible, Sir Malcolm," Lissandra said easily.
"Really, it won't be more than a moment." Malcolm insisted with an easy smile to Lissandra. He was a handsome man, charming, and polite. There was talk about a marriage between one of the princesses and him. He was the lord of several islands, profitable land that produced both valuable timber and plenty of crops.
However, he made Eamon uneasy for a reason he could not place.
"The Crown Prince is indisposed for the night," Eamon said and watched Malcolm try to search for words to insist on the meeting. "If it would interest you, my sister could speak to you, with Lady Issat and Princess Avelina accompanying them," he continued and sat back. He steepled his fingers under his chin and regarded Sir Malcolm silently for a moment.
Alik became aware that the entire table was quiet and staring at them. He reached over and put a hand on Eamon's forearm, silently warning him to tread carefully. Eamon glanced over at him and settled back in his seat, though he did place his hand over Alik's, effectively pinning his hand there.
"Or, if you'd prefer, you and I could speak. Privately," Eamon suggested.
"My fiance has become concerned about the time I spend away from him. Believe me when I say that Princess Lissandra or Princess Avelina speak for me." Alik said, in an attempt to smooth out that look on Malcolm's face.
It did not work, as a sneer rose to Malcolm's face. "When will it end? We are forced to accept this farce of a marriage that will not produce an heir and I am now being told I must deal with a princess if I am to talk about trade?"
Eamon leaned forward on one arm and his brow furrowed. "Go on."
"You think I will not? You think that I am not sick of this play you put on? That your family bends to your will and does not say a word against you, Bladebringer?" Malcolm demanded.
"It seems you have plenty to say," Alik noted and gestured to a servant who brought a jug of wine forward, "Please, let us hear it."
"The entirety of this land is beholden to your wants, to your desires, to the fact that between four heirs-"
"Five," Alik said and gestured to himself.
"That none of them have produced an heir to either kingdom of the most powerful military might or the richest nation? How does such a thing stand?" Malcolm demanded and pounded his fist on the table. A few of the lords around Malcolm startled. Alik studied the man’s features, his red face and bulging eyes. It seemed like they found the root of what was bothering the kings.
"Is there anything else you would like to share?" Alik prompted.
The other guests in the dining hall shared looks and quietly murmured.
Malcolm seemed to realize what kind of position he had put himself in and quieted, though the disgust was clear on his face. He stood and the knights behind Eamon shifted forward as one. Eamon raised a hand to them and there was a moment of hesitancy before they shifted back.
"I lay down a formal challenge for the throne," Sir Malcolm said.
The silence was complete.
"On what grounds?" Alik said. His eyes sparkled and a smile tugged at his lips. It took Eamon a moment to realize that he was enjoying this spectacle that Malcolm was creating, probably more than the lengthy debates of the past several days.
"The grounds that this whole engagement is false and will produce no heir and that both nations are only using the other. If you were decent and had the slightest modicum of intelligence, you would marry one of the princesses so that at least a legitimate heir could take the throne. Instead- we are thrust into a game of your choosing-"
"Fine," Alik said. "I accept your challenge."
Eamon turned to Alik slowly and opened his mouth as though to say something but Alik squeezed Eamon's forearm and met his eyes.
A united front, his words echoed in Eamon's head.
So he shut his mouth and turned back to Sir Malcolm with a cold look on his face.
Malcolm threw back his head and laughed. "A trial by combat it is."
Alik stood and the silence around them was thick and heavy. He seemed to be waiting for Malcolm to say something else but Malcolm remained silent, only stared Alik down. Everyone else stood slowly.
"As you say," Alik said evenly.
Everyone turned to Alik, even Lissandra and Edmond on Eamon's other side. From the other side of the table, Avelina’s horror was unmistakable.
Sir Malcolm left with his retinue and the others stared at their retreating backs.
"Come," Alik said and left the room with Eamon at his side.
***
"ARE YOU INSANE?" EDMOND hissed at their backs as they walked to Alik's rooms. "Malcolm is a warrior, has trained all his life, has battle experience-"
"You will be dead before your wedding and one of us will be married off to that horrid man!" Lissandra added.
"He would not give me beautiful children, I would like to add," Avelina said.
"Any children of yours would be beautiful," Alik said politely as they swept through the halls and went up the stairs.
"I don't want to sound impertinent or impolite, Your Highness," Sir Nicolin began slowly, "But you are not trained as he is and I haven't seen anything other than the sparring armor you brought with you. Do you even own any armor? Let alone know how to fight in it?"
"No," Alik said and pushed open the doors to Eamon's rooms. "I was hoping for some as a wedding gift though. Is that too much of an extravagant gift to request?" He asked Eamon.
"If you survive this night, I will make it myself," Edmond snapped. He seemed even angrier than the others, if that was at all possible.
"And pray tell, why would I not survive this night?" Alik said and went to the table and poured himself some wine that Lissandra immediately snatched out of his hand. She glared at him when he had the nerve to look offended.
"Because you are going into the arena with Sir Malcolm and he will not let you out of there in one piece," Avelina snapped. "Of all the foolish, stubborn decisions I have ever even heard of-"
"No, I'm not," Alik said and poured himself another goblet of wine.
"You just told them-" Sir Nicolin sputtered, "You cannot go back on your word- You are bound by honor-"
"I said that I accepted the challenge. Ever since that debacle with King Alyx in Cerith, I have been mindful about studying all the laws of the lands I am entering. Duels differ throughout the lands. The rules of Ataton dictate that the challenger can then set the rules of the arena when the challenge is made, no later. If he tries to change the rules at a later time, he is labeled a coward, the match is forfeit, his challenge is null and void, and the victory goes to the opponent." Alik said. "Malcolm made one rule. A trial by combat. Therefore there are no other rules to break. I accepted, yes. Did I agree to go into the ring personally?" Alik snorted. "Do I look like a fool? That man would shred me into pieces. I like all my pieces connected, not on some arena floor. Therefore, I choose my champion," he turned to Eamon. "Would you be so inclined, my darling?"
"You devious little-" Eamon said and inhaled deeply. He thought he was going to be forced to watch Alik face down Malcolm and probably die in the arena that night. When he realized that the would be the one facing Malcolm in the ring, his heart slowed and he calmed. He slumped in a chair.
"Ah, ah. You will be marrying me in less than a week," Alik said and raised an eyebrow.
"I mean it as a compliment," Eamon insisted.
"I'm sure you do," Alik said and turned to Nicolin and Willhelm, who had joined them. "Well? Suit him up. Get him ready," Alik gestured at Eamon. "Whatever it is that is done before such things, I am not sure of the protocol of this moment."
"I-" Willhelm said and let out a huff of breath that turned into laughter. "I am highly impressed." He turned to the wardrobe and pulled out a helmet and shook his head.
"Get used to it," Alik said and smirked. As Nicolin and Willhelm laced up the chest guard and the forearm guards Alik looked at Eamon and asked, "Can you tell me exactly how you earned the name Bladebringer?"
Edmond snorted and Lissandra took a seat. Avelina fussed over Eamon's hair, loosening the leather strap he tied it back in and securing his hair more tightly.
"In the Battle of the Sons, our army was losing. Quite badly. Our line was about to break and I could see it. I could see where my death was, out in the dirty, bloody field. The ground below our feet was mud but not from rain, but rather all the blood that had been spilled. So, as with any blood drunk man, I charged the army," Eamon explained succinctly.
"He was alone," Willhelm added. "Completely and utterly alone."
"All he had with him was his blade," Nicolin said and passed Eamon's sword to him. Eamon hefted it into his hand, as though testing the weight, like he didn’t know it just as well as he knew his own body.
“Heartseeker.” Nicolin said and eyed the blade in Eamon’s hand like he was scared of the weapon itself, and not the man ready to wield it.
"So I charged. I broke through their line and fully expected to die. But I would not die without taking as many of the Vresal as I could. I fought and I fought-" Eamon’s voice dropped as he concentrated on buckling his sword around his waist.
"He brought Heartseeker past the front line where no man had before," Nicolin explained when he saw the look of confusion on Alik's face.
"Ah," Alik said and nodded.
They were silent as Nicolin and Willhelm finished.
"Can I have a moment before we go?" Alik asked when everyone stood.
"Of course. We'll wait for you in the foyer," Lissandra said and took Edmond's arm.
When the door closed behind them, Alik spun to Eamon. "You can take him down, right? I haven't gotten you into something that could get you injured or killed, have I?"
Eamon tugged at one of his forearm guards and snorted. "Hardly. Malcolm is-" Eamon sighed and met Alik's eyes. "He is trained more than you and he does have battle experience but there are few out there that can match me in single combat."
"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 caught 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."