Erisial’s gaze hardened. She said, “The challenge is to the death.”
Coledon glanced at Rezkin and then to his matrianera. “You have heard the reports of the tournament, and I saw him practicing this morning. I cannot win, Telía.”
Telía scowled at him with cruel eyes. “The reports are exaggerated, and your humility is unnecessary, Coledon. You can and will win. I will be queen, and we will put an end to this madness.”
“No, Telía, be reasonable—”
“I am your matrianera, Coledon. You do as I say. I have named you my champion. You fight or die.”
Coledon unbuckled his belt and let it drop to the floor as he yanked angrily at his coat and shirt. Once his chest was bared of any hindrances, he bent to retrieve his sword from its sheath. He rounded on Telía. “Since this is the last time we speak, Sister, I am taking the opportunity to say that you are a heartless wretch, unworthy of your position, and it would have been a blessing to have been born to any other house.”
The man turned to face Rezkin and waited expectantly.
Rezkin said, “You are prepared to fight a battle you know you cannot win?”
“She will never let me go,” Coledon said, his pain and frustration obvious for all to see. “If I am to die, I would die fighting.”
“Killing you serves no purpose,” Rezkin said. “I have not seen you fight, but I have been told that you are an accomplished champion. I offer you an alternative.”
Coledon glanced at an equally confused Erisial and back to Rezkin. “Your matria has set the terms of the challenge. It is not your right to change them.” He raised his sword in preparation for the duel.
Rezkin said, “I do not offer as a Leréshi. I am the King of Cael. In exchange for your oath of fealty, I offer you sanctuary as a citizen of Cael.”
“You cannot,” shouted Telía. “He belongs to me!”
“You are welcome to present another champion in the matter of the claim, Matrianera Telía, but this,” he said, motioning toward Coledon, “is no longer a personal challenge between claimants. I am the ruler of another kingdom offering sanctuary to a potential defector. Any challenge must be issued by the queen, and she must present a champion or prepare for war.”
Erisial stared at him blankly as everyone turned to see what she would do. She descended the steps and stopped in front of him. Now that she stood on his level, he towered over her. She reached up to stroke his face as he looked back at her dispassionately.
She smiled and said, “He is magnificent, is he not? He stands before the queen, in the midst of the Leréshi court, and offers sanctuary to a defector, and everyone is too afraid to move against him. I have already stated my intent to claim him as husband, and we have negotiated the terms of our marriage. He has control of the military. If we go to war over this, we go to war against ourselves.”
Telía said, “The claim is not yet binding!”
“The marriage contract has been signed,” Erisial said, motioning to Celise who hurried forward with an apologetic glance for Frisha and Yserria.
“But … but there has been no ceremony,” Telía said, “and it has not been consummated before witnesses.”
Erisial waved away the concern. “Minor technicalities that will be remedied before the morrow. As for this matter”—she ran a hand over Coledon’s bared chest as she passed him on her way back to the dais—“your king has given his guardsman permission to apply for citizenship in another kingdom. I do not intend to stand in his way.” She stood upon the dais and gazed around the room at the stunned faces. “Besides, we had best put this matter to rest before he makes the same offer to other disgruntled champions.”
Some of the women appeared worried as they shook their heads in agreement, and many of the men looked around as if to discourage anyone from getting ideas of defecting. Meanwhile, Coledon dropped to his knees, placed his sword on the ground and crossed his arms before him. He pressed his forehead to his wrists and muttered a string of words in Leréshi. Two of the few words Wesson understood were Rezkin and Cael, so he assumed it to be an oath of fealty.
When the man rose, Rezkin said, “You may join my royal guard.”
“It is my honor, Your Majesty,” Coledon said. He retrieved his shirt but left his Leréshi guardsman’s coat lying on the ground. He then moved to stand behind Rezkin’s entourage.
Rezkin glanced about and said, “Does anyone else wish to declare a challenge?”
Telía seethed at the queen. “You are weak, Erisial, and you know it. You hide behind this man just as you have hidden behind Serunius for so long.”
Erisial laughed. “This is why you will never be queen, Telía. I have gained the advantage of the most exquisite weapon on the Souelian, one that none in this court is brave enough to face.”
“You think you have conquered him?” Telía spat. “He is a rabid animal. You will see. He will betray you and destroy this kingdom. He has already wreaked havoc in Ashai and Channería, and he is not yet done with Gendishen.” She looked around at the crowd that was stunned into silence by her outburst. “You will all regret not killing him where he stands!”
Erisial turned from the crazed woman, smiled to the crowd, and said, “Shall we get on with the ceremony?”
A servant hurried forward with a tray covered in black velvet, upon which lay two silver ribbons. Serunius stopped the servant in his tracks and took the tray. The queen’s consort carried the tray to where Erisial and Rezkin stood upon the dais. Rezkin removed the black ribbon that held his hair in a queue, allowing it to fall loose. Erisial smiled tightly at her consort as she took a silver ribbon from the tray and muttered foreign words as she wound it into a smaller braid that hung from Rezkin’s temple. The silver gleamed brightly in his raven black hair, and her hands began to shake as she tied off the end. Rezkin followed suit, twisting a silver ribbon into the queen’s golden locks as he spoke the same words, but Erisial looked away as if she could no longer meet his icy stare.
Both of them turned to view the audience, and Minder Finwy and an older priest stepped up to the dais. Rezkin did not glance at the priests as his predatory gaze roved the crowd and caught on something at the rear of the hall beyond Wesson’s view. Whatever he was seeing held his attention for a minute before he moved on to scan the rest of the far room. His gaze finally fell on the priests as they were finishing their benedictions in both Ashaiian and Leréshi, and Wesson wondered if Rezkin had heard any of it. When the priests stopped speaking, the crowd applauded, although the enthusiasm seemed to be lacking. As far as Wesson could tell, no one in the room was happy about the union, including the newlyweds.
Wesson felt the slight tingle of power and then beside him, Frisha yelped. From her other side, Nanessy whispered, “Just something to dry your tears before they fall.”
Frisha nodded but appeared incapable of speech at that moment. Wesson was just as surprised as the rest of them. He had been expecting Rezkin to come up with some wild announcement or crazy plan to get out of the marriage. The noise of the crowd had risen steadily as people gossiped about the proceedings.
“Maybe he’ll kill her,” Frisha whispered. Her companions all looked at her aghast. “What?” she said with a shrug. “He does that—kills people, I mean. Maybe he’ll kill her before they … you know … consummate it. Then he can take the throne and whatever he wants.” They continued to stare at her in surprise, and she said, “I’m not saying he should.”
Without even looking their way, Rezkin turned to leave with the queen. A small voice called out from somewhere near the dais.
“Queen Erisial!”
At first, the queen did not seem to hear, but the crown quieted as the voice called again. “Queen Erisial. I-I would like to make a claim!”
Erisial paused and turned back to see Celise standing at the foot of the dais. Everyone moved back to give her space, and she looked around anxiously.