“No idea,” Hadrian replied, studying the board.
Merrick smiled at him. “I see why Royce likes you. You’re not big on conversation. You two are quite the odd pairing, aren’t you? Royce and I are far more similar. We each maintain a common pragmatic view of the world and those in it, but you are more an idealist and dreamer. You look like an ale drinker to me, and Royce prefers his Montemorcey.”
Another quick succession of moves made Hadrian slow down his play and left him studying the board.
“Did you know I introduced him to that particular wine? That was years ago, when I brought him a case for his birthday. Well, that’s not precisely correct. Royce has no idea about the actual date of his birth. Still, it could have been, so we celebrated like it was. I liberated the wine from a Vandon caravan loaded with merchandise, and we spent three whole days drinking and debauching a tiny agrarian village. That town had a surprisingly large proportion of attractive maids. I had never seen Royce drunk before that. He’s usually so serious—all dark and brooding—or at least he was back then. For those three days he relaxed and we had arguably the best time of our lives.”
Hadrian focused on the board.
“We were quite the team back in our day. I’d plan the jobs and he’d execute them. We had quite a contest going. I tried to see if I could invent a challenge too difficult, but he always surprised me. His skills are legendary. Of course, back then the shackles of morality didn’t weigh him down. That’s your doing, I suppose. You tamed the demon, or at least think you have.”
Hadrian found Merrick’s conversation irritating and realized that was the point. He moved his queen to safety. Merrick innocently, almost absentmindedly, slid a pawn forward.
“It’s still there, though—the demon within—hiding; you can’t change the nature of someone like Royce. In Calis they try to tame lions, did you know that? They take them as cubs and raise them in palaces as pets for princes. They think them safe until one day the family dogs are gone. ‘Perhaps the dogs warranted it,’ the love-struck prince says. ‘Perhaps the hounds attacked the cat or antagonized it,’ he says as he strokes his loyal beast. The next day they find the carcass of the prince in a tree. No, my friend, you can’t tame a wild animal. Eventually it will return to its true nature.”
Hadrian made a series of moves that succeeded in taking the white bishop. He could not determine if Merrick was just toying with him or was not nearly as good at the game as Hadrian had expected.
“Does he ever speak of me?” asked Merrick.
“You sound like an abandoned mistress.”
Merrick sat straighter and adjusted the front of his tunic. “You’ve had a chance to see Breckton joust. Is there any doubt about whether you can defeat him?”
“No.”
“That’s good. But now comes the important question… will you?”
“I made an agreement, didn’t I? You were there.”
Merrick leaned forward. “I know you—or at least your type. You’re having second thoughts. You don’t think it’s right to kill an innocent man. You’ve met Breckton. He’s impressive. The kind of man you want to be. You’re hating yourself right now, and you hate me because you think I helped arrange it. Only I didn’t. I have no part in this—well, beyond suggesting they offer you the princess. Whether you want to thank me or kill me for that, I’d just like to point out that at the time you were threatening to kill everyone in the room.”
“So if this is none of your business, then why are you here?”
“I need Royce to do another job for me—an important one—and he’ll be far less inclined if you die, which you will if you don’t kill Breckton. If, however, you keep your promise, everything should work out nicely. So I’ve come to affirm what you already know, and what Royce would tell you if he were here. You must kill Breckton. Keep in mind you will be trading the life of the most capable enemy of Melengar for its princess and the leader of the Nationalists. Together, they could revitalize the resistance. And let’s not forget your legacy. This is your one chance to correct the sin of your father and bring peace to his spirit. If nothing else, don’t you think you owe Danbury that much?”
“How do you know about that?”
Merrick merely smiled.
“You’re a smug bastard, aren’t you?” Hadrian glared at him. “But you don’t know everything.”
Hadrian reached out to move, but Merrick raised a hand and stopped him.
“You’re about to take my rook with your bishop. After that, you will take the other with your queen. How can you not? The poor castle is completely undefended. You’ll be feeling quite pleased with yourself at that point. You’ll be thinking that I don’t play this game anywhere near as well as you expected. What you won’t realize is that while you have gained materially, you’ve systematically given up control of the board. You’ll have more troops but discover too late that you can’t effectively mount an attack. I will sacrifice my queen. You will have no choice but to kill her. By that time, I will be perfectly positioned to reach your king. In the end, you will have taken a bishop, two rooks, and my queen, but none of this will matter. I will checkmate you on the twenty-second turn by moving my remaining bishop to king’s seven.” Merrick stood and moved toward the door. “You’ve already lost, but you lack the foresight to see it. That’s your problem. I, on the other hand, do not suffer from that particular malady. I am telling you for your own good, for Royce’s sake, for Arista, Gaunt, and even for your father—you must kill Sir Breckton. Good night, Hadrian.”
CHAPTER 16
TRIALS BY COMBAT
The sky was overcast, the day a dull gray, and the wind blew a chilled blast across the stands. And yet the crowd at Highcourt was larger and louder than ever. The entire imperial court, and most of the town, had turned out to see the spectacle. Every inch of the bleachers was jammed, and a sea of bodies pushed against the fence. On the staging field only the blue and gold tent of Sir Breckton and the green and white tent of Sir Hadrian remained.
Hadrian arrived early that morning alongside Renwick, who went right to work feeding and brushing Malevolent. Hadrian did not want to be in the palace and risk an encounter with Breckton, Amilia, or Merrick. All he wanted was to be left alone and for this day to be over.
“Hadrian!” a strangely familiar voice called. Along the fence line, he spotted a man amidst the crowd waving at him while a pike-armed guard held him back. “It’s me, Russell Bothwick from Dahlgren!”