He’d been given an inferior sword. Rupert ran his hand along the porous steel and thumbed the dull edge of the blade. Dammit.
Yesterday, after the obstacle course, Brody had passed on a warning from Brigitta. She had overheard the king’s plan to be rid of the annoying number Seven. Gunther had arranged for him to fight the general.
Gunther’s decision had not come as a surprise to Rupert or Stefan. After all, Rupert was posing as an Eberoni nobleman, and he’d become the crowd favorite. That was something the Tourinian king would never accept.
Brody had given them an additional warning, although Rupert didn’t know what to make of it. For the last two days, Brody had caught the scent of the Chameleon in the stands. But since there was a least a thousand people in the stadium and Brody didn’t know what the Chameleon looked like, he hadn’t been able to detect him.
Rupert and Stefan had never heard of the Chameleon, so Brody had explained how the bastard had attempted to take over Eberon by assassination and impersonation before escaping in the form of an eagle. Since he had failed to steal the Eberoni throne, his sudden appearance in Tourin could only spell trouble.
Now, the following morning, Rupert pushed aside all thoughts of the Chameleon. His first concern had to be surviving today’s swordfight.
He examined the field before him. The obstacle course had been removed, but the mudhole still remained. The boar had been killed and served at a celebratory feast last night.
General Tarvis and Captain Mador were nearby, boasting about the feast and making sure Rupert and Five heard about how they had courted the princess while Five and Seven had been kept under guard in the basement.
Rupert glanced up at the royal box. Even from here, he could see how pale Brigitta looked. She was frightened.
Hell, she had every reason to be frightened. Stefan had warned him that General Tarvis was rumored to be vicious with a sword.
“Use your powers,” Stefan had urged him. “Blow him away. Do whatever you have to do to stay alive.”
“But you can’t afford to be obvious about it,” Brody had quickly added. “Being Embraced is a crime here in Tourin. They could kill you for it.”
Rupert glanced down at his shoddy sword. He might be forced to use his power.
“Are you making your peace with the Light?” General Tarvis smirked as he approached Rupert. “You should before it’s too late.”
Rupert squared his shoulders. “Is it true what they say? That you’re the best swordsman in all of Tourin?”
The general shrugged. “It’s a well-known fact.”
“Then why have I been given an inferior sword? Is the prospect of a fair fight too scary for you?”
The general’s eyes blazed with anger. “Mind your tongue, Seven, or I’ll cut it out before I deliver the final blow.”
“When this sword breaks in half on the first strike, the crowd will know you were too cowardly to—”
“Enough!” General Tarvis bellowed, his face turning a mottled red. “Guard!” he yelled at a nearby soldier. “Get him a good sword.”
Yes! Rupert tossed the inferior one on the ground.
Tarvis sneered. “Don’t think it will make any difference. You will still die today.” He marched off to complain to number One.
When the guard handed Rupert a decent sword, he said, “Thank you. Can you give Five a good one, too?”
The guard winced. “He already has a good one.”
Rupert snorted. Perhaps he should be flattered that he was the one they most wanted to kill.
The guards handed each of them a white tunic to put on over their shirts. Each tunic was emblazoned on the front and back with their number.
As the crowd grew increasingly noisy and impatient for the match to begin, Rupert wandered over to Five. “If you’re in danger of being wounded or killed, surrender.”
With a grimace, Five whispered, “The north has surrendered enough to these bastards.”
Rupert looked around to make sure no one could hear them over the noise of the crowd. He rested a hand on Five’s shoulder and leaned close. “I need you alive so we can make things right.”
Five’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you, Seven?”
Rupert squeezed his shoulder. “Stay alive.”
A horn blasted, signaling the king’s wish for the match to begin. The four contestants put on their helmets.
The kettledrum pounded, escalating the tension in the air as the four swordsmen strode onto the field.
Rupert glanced at Stefan and Brody in the stands. They both looked worried, but gave him a thumbs-up.
The contestants paired off on either side of the mudhole—Five fighting Captain Mador, and Rupert facing General Tarvis. They took their stances, their swords raised and pointed at their opponent.
The trumpet blared.
Rupert charged, figuring a bold attack would catch Two by surprise. The general had probably assumed that Rupert would adopt a more defensive posture.
Their swords clashed, the ringing noise echoing about the stadium as the crowd began to chant Seven! Seven!
The fight continued for a few minutes until Rupert shot a small burst of air toward his opponent to make him stumble back. The surprise on Two’s face gave Rupert hope. If he kept using just enough power to undermine Two’s confidence, he might make the bastard desperate enough to make a mistake.
With a shout, Two attacked, his sword striking with speed and incredible strength. Rupert was hard-pressed to parry each move. Eventually, he pushed the general back with another gust of air.
Two breathed heavily, cursing under his breath. No doubt he was confused as to how Rupert was managing to repel him.
Without hesitation, Rupert charged. The general retaliated and came close to slicing Rupert’s arm. Rupert leaped to the left, but his opponent kept slashing at him. Rupert blew him back to take a small break.
And that’s when he realized they had turned enough that Two’s back was now to the mudhole. On the other side of the mud, One was forcing Five into a retreat.
Two charged toward him, his sword raised. Rupert blocked the downward swing aimed for his head. With a growl, Two strained, pressing hard against Rupert’s sword. Rupert’s arms burned, but he managed to shove Two back and keep attacking until Two was forced to retreat toward the mud.
Two slipped, his arms flailing as he tried to regain his balance. Rupert jumped and kicked him in the chest, causing Two to crash into the mud with a loud smack.
The crowd roared, Seven! Seven!
Before Two could get up, Rupert planted a boot on his chest. With both hands on the hilt of his sword, he held the sword with the tip aimed for the general’s heart.
“Surrender!” Rupert yelled.
“Never,” General Tarvis growled.
“I surrender!” Five yelled, and Rupert quickly glanced at the other pair. Captain Mador had pinned Five to the ground, his sword raised just like Rupert’s was over the general.
With a laugh, Mador lifted his sword high, ready to plunge it into Five’s chest.
“No!” Rupert let loose a blast of wind that knocked Mador’s sword aside enough that it hit the ground beside Five’s shoulder.
Five rolled away, safe for the moment.
The general grabbed Rupert’s leg that was pinning him down and wrenched him off balance. As Rupert fell on his rump, Tarvis struggled to get to his feet in the slippery mud. With the flat edge of his sword, Rupert knocked Tarvis’s feet out from underneath him. The general fell down with another splat just as Rupert jumped to his feet.
He kicked the sword out of Tarvis’s hand, then planted his foot on the general’s neck. With a growl, Tarvis threw a clod of mud at Rupert’s face.
Rupert spit it back onto the general and lifted his sword once more. “Surrender!”
The horn blasted, signaling the end of the match. Armed guards ran onto the field.
“Step back!” one of them ordered Rupert.
Rupert glanced up at Gunther. So the king wanted to save his general from the disgrace of surrendering. No doubt Rupert’s victory would be ignored, while One would be named today’s winner. Since Five was the only one who had surrendered, he would be the loser.
Tossing his sword aside, Rupert stepped back.
General Tarvis scrambled to his feet and snarled, “I’m going to kill you, Seven. In the next contest, you die.”
Rupert removed his helmet. “You’re welcome to try.” As the crowd continued to chant Seven, he smiled. “But apparently, everyone wants you to lose.”
* * *
“Don’t worry,” Rupert whispered to Five as they mounted the stairs to the platform with the trapdoors. “I’ll make sure you and the others survive.”
Five gave him a wry look. “I’m starting to believe you can.”
“You have my word.” Rupert patted him on the back as he moved toward trapdoor number five.
Mador and Tarvis stood at the far end of the platform, glaring at him.
The horn sounded, the crowd counting along till five blasts had been completed. Five’s trapdoor opened, and he fell through.
After the roar of the crowd quieted down, the horn blared again. King Gunther stood, and everyone jumped to their feet. A hush fell over the stadium.
Gunther swept an arm toward the platform. “Good people of Tourin,” he shouted. “You see before you the three best warriors in the land. And so, it is only fitting that they confront our country’s worst enemy. The next round will be a noble quest, and the winner will be the one who first delivers to me the head of a dragon!”
Rupert stiffened as a thousand gasps echoed around the stadium. Holy crap. How could he kill a dragon?
* * *
That night, Brigitta paced in her bedroom, waiting for Brody to emerge in human form from the dressing room.
“Try to remain calm,” Sister Fallyn said quietly.
“Calm?” Brigitta cried. “How many times must I watch Rup—you-know-who risk his life? The swordfight was bad enough, but now he has to face a fire-breathing dragon?”
Brody strode from the dressing room, wearing breeches and an unbuttoned shirt. “Is there anything to eat—”
“Did you see him?” Brigitta demanded. “Is he all right?”
“I couldn’t see him.” Brody gave her a sad look. “After the swordfight, the guards took him to the army barracks. They won’t even let Stefan see him. They claim if they don’t keep him under watch, he might try to escape.”
Brigitta sank into a chair. Any man in his right mind would try to escape Gunther’s ridiculous quest. “I think the king is using them for revenge. He must hate the dragons for what they did to him.”
Brody nodded. “Probably so. Tomorrow, Gunther and several army troops are taking the three contestants to the Norveshki border. They expect to arrive before nightfall. The following morning, the three contestants will cross into Norveshka to hunt for dragons.”
Brigitta took a deep breath. For four days now, she’d been forced to sit still, looking pretty while Rupert risked his life. No more. If she wanted a say in her own destiny, she needed to act.
“Here.” Sister Fallyn passed Brody a tray of food leftover from dinner. Brigitta had hardly been able to eat.
“You were closer to the field,” she said quietly. “You could see him better than I. Was he all right?”
“He’s fine. Not a scratch.” Brody ate a slice of ham. “Stefan went back to their room in the basement to pack up their things. He’s rejoined the other guards and servants from Eberon, who have been staying in town. They plan to follow the troops tomorrow at a discreet distance.”
Brigitta nodded. “That sounds good.”
Brody sighed. “It’s not all good. I shifted into a bird and landed on a windowsill close to where Captain Mador and General Tarvis were having a discussion. Once they cross the border into Norveshka, they’re not even going to attempt to kill a dragon.”
“But then they’ll lose the round,” Brigitta said.
Brody shook his head. “There can be only one loser. They intend for it to be Seven. Instead of hunting a dragon, they plan to ambush—”
“Rup—” Brigitta pressed a hand to her mouth. Of course, if Rupert was brought back dead, he would automatically become the loser. The captain and the general would become the last two.
“From their position, it’s a great plan,” Brody muttered. “They won’t have to risk their lives fighting a dragon.” He bit off a piece of cheese. “I wanted to pass the news on to you-know-who, but I couldn’t get near him. I tried slipping in as a dog, but the guards shooed me away. Even if I made it inside the barracks, I would have to shift to talk to him, and the soldiers would see it.”
“We have to warn him.” Brigitta rose to her feet and paced across the room. “And we need to be close by in case he needs us.” She stopped in front of Sister Fallyn. “Pack some clothes. We’re going with the troops in the morning.”
Sister Fallyn gasped. “What? I don’t think the king will allow it.”
“If he tries to refuse me, I’ll remind him that he agreed that I could participate as I desired. I need to be there to congratulate the winner when he returns.”
“The king might still refuse,” Brody muttered. “He’s not exactly known for keeping his word.”
Brigitta shrugged. “If he does, we’ll travel with Stefan and his group. I will not stay here, doing nothing!”
Brody smiled. “Fine. I’ll travel along as your dog. Or even fly overhead as a bird.”
“Excellent.” Brigitta’s heart pounded. Rupert would not have to face this quest alone. Even if she had to follow him into Norveshka, she would do it.
For this was her destiny, too.