Oda, grinning from ear to ear, circled Adeya. She moved with him, keeping her sword pointed at him. He swept his blade in fancy arcs and twirls so that the edge sung as it whipped through the air. Without warning, he charged.
Adeya dodged sideways as he slashed. She blocked another slash then turned aside a thrust. At his third slash, she leapt away. Oda’s sword sliced the air where she’d just been standing. Grinning, he hung for a moment with his blade outstretched behind him at the end of its arc. He straightened as she edged around him.
Leaping forward, Adeya stabbed at his face, but Oda casually leaned out of the way. She twisted the thrust into a swipe, but Oda blocked it. Their blades locked together.
Oda pushed his weight against Adeya, but when she held firm, he grabbed her by the hair and wrenched. She gasped in pain. He pulled harder, forcing her head to crook at an awkward angle, and shoved at the same time. Adeya gritted her teeth and dug her feet in, fighting to keep her balance. Slinging Oda’s sword aside, she kneed him in the groin—hard. He released her with a yelp.
Adeya backed out of reach.
Oda, doubled over, staggered out of range, muttering curses under his breath. He struggled to straighten up as he walked a few steps, glaring at Adeya.
Chuckles ran through the crowd.
The side of Gennen’s face twitched as if with a smile, Wynne snorted, but Kyen looked grimmer than ever.
Adeya shook out her golden locks. Glaring back at Oda, she lifted her sword. She attacked before Oda could straighten up but he still managed to parry her blow. His blade flashed towards her face, and snicked her hair as she leaned away. He slashed again, but instead of aiming for Adeya, he connected their blades. Winding the two together in a rapid circle, he twisted Adeya’s hilt from her grip and sent the sword flying. It landed in the dust with a thud.
She started after it, but he ducked in her way.
From the sidelines Gennen watched with narrowed eyes as Oda stalked Adeya into the corner. Kyen stood still beside him but for a muscle working in his jaw. Wynne glanced at them both, uneasy.
“Time to surrender, chitling.” Oda grinned; he flourished his blade. “You wouldn’t want me to put a scar on that pretty face, would you?”
Adeya, even swordless, fell back into a fighting stance.
“Suit yourself.” He launched himself at her, still lobbing with a one-handed grip on his sword. Adeya dodged him. He swung hard, and with each swoop his blade flew wider and wider. She ducked then sidestepped then backed away. Her heel hit stone—the rim of the square. Oda slung out again with such force, the arc of the swing took his blade clear behind his back.
Adeya jumped into the opening. She grabbed his sword wrist, ducked under his arm, and threw all her momentum into the twist.
Oda gasped in pain. His body snapped taut as the wrench in his shoulder pushed it to the brink of dislocation. He tried to shift off the angle of tension, but Adeya, standing behind him with both hands gripping his wrist, twisted harder.
“Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow!” Oda’s blade dropped from his fingers as he danced on tiptoes.
“Don’t you ever dare touch my pretty face!” Adeya shoved him forward and snatched up his dropped sword. As Oda staggered to catch his balance, she ran and grabbed her fallen sword, too. She pointed both blades at him.
Oda, holding his shoulder, straightened. A shocked disbelief filled his face as he stared at her.
“Do you declare mercy?” she asked.
His disbelief morphed into anger. He started to charge her, but Adeya jabbed at his stomach with both blades, forcing him back. She backed him up to the rim of the sparring ring.
“Do you declare mercy?” she repeated.
Oda relaxed out of his fighting stance. A fidgety smile struggled to mask his anger.
“This is stupid,” he said. “You’re just a mainlander. Contests are only binding between Blades. Everyone knows that.”
Throughout the crowd faces fell and scowls rose. Oda turned to leave the ring, but the warriors pressed forward to block his way. Voices rose from the crowd.
“There’s no reason the tradition shouldn’t hold.”
“She is a bladepupil.”
“Declare mercy or keep fighting!”
“You’re honor-bound.”
Many voices took up the echo of this last phrase.
“Do you declare mercy?” Adeya asked again, still pointing the swords at him.
Oda laughed, sweat standing out on his face. “What are you all even doing here?” he addressed the crowd. “You didn’t really believe me, did you? This is just a farce. A practice run to benefit the mainlander. None of you believed this to be a serious contest, did you?”
The frowning faces in the crowd grew into glares.
“Either declare mercy or continue the contest, Odallyan,” said Gennen with a smug smile. “Or your oath will carry no weight henceforth. You are honor-bound to the terms of the contest.”
Growling under his breath, Oda turned to face Adeya. He stood straight and tall with a placidity that loosely veiled his mortification.
“Mercy.”
“Really?” Adeya’s face lit up. “I won? I won!” She beamed at Gennen and Kyen.
The blademaster gave her an approving nod, but Kyen looked disconcerted. Wynne leapt in the air with a shriek then bound over the stones to rush Adeya.
Adeya’s eyes widened. She blocked with the swords and flinched away as if expecting an attack but Wynne pummeled her with a giant hug.
“You did it, mainlander! You did! You stuck it to Oda! I can’t believe it!”
“Th-thank you?”
The tension melted out of the air. All the Blades began crossing the rim to join them, crowding and jostling past Oda. A sea of hands clapped Adeya on the back, pumped the air at her side, or ruffled her hair. She laughed and smiled like breaking dawn under all the rough attention. Wynne clutched Adeya with an arm around her shoulders, but even her high-pitched chatter went unheard in the babble.
“Can you believe it? A mainlander!”
“And only a bladepupil too!”
“Odallyan’s so annoying. High time someone rubbed his face in it!”
“You’ll not be a half-bad Blade! For a mainlander.”
“You can keep my longsword, if you’d like, Lady Adeya.”
“Three cheers for the Lady Adeya!”
“Huzzah!”
While the huzzahs continued, Oda stood apart from them with his arms crossed. He watched the throng around Adeya with a sour look.
“If I didn’t know you to be an idiot, I’d say you threw the match.” Inen stepped up beside him.
Oda scoffed in disgust. “How was I supposed to know to take her seriously? She’s a mainlander—a mainlander!—a bladepupil, a chitling.”
Inen turned narrowed eyes on Oda and stared until he bobbled uncomfortably on his heels.
“I mean, my lady Adeya.” He growled out the words.
Inen smiled approvingly.
“Still,” said Oda. “It wasn’t a fair match. I was just toying with her. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Your decisions in battle are yours,” said Inen. “You’d be a better swordsman if you owned them.”
“Whatever.”
The huzzahs, which had continued far past three, grew louder. Adeya attempted to excuse herself and push through the throng but found herself hoisted up and carried on the shoulders of two large warriors. Laughing and smiling, she clung to them as they marched her out of the sparring area. She beamed down on Gennen and Kyen as she passed.
Gennen, looking supremely pleased, followed.
Kyen lingered behind. He smiled a little, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“No! Wait! Please, put me down!” Adeya laughed as they carried her towards the common hall. The crowd of Blades trailed after them. In the sparring square, Avanna children hurried over the rim to begin re-enacting the battle with wooden swords.
No one noticed when a figure crested the central stair and entered the city circle. Nobody noticed until his booming voice resounded in the air and killed the hubbub.
“Kyen, son of Odyen, of the House of Crossblade. I challenge the throne!”
All the Blades—Wynne, Oda, Inen, Gennen, Adeya, Kyen—all turned.
With a hand on his hilt, Ennyen stood, his dark eyes fixed on Kyen. The fiend caladrius swooped up the stairs behind him, a shadow flitting across the afternoon sky.