And there had been only one event like this in the last thousand years. That had been the first Sentinel Games, when his original seven had fought their way to their current positions. Then, he had recruited the most Powerful of the Wyr throughout the world. They had come together to establish who was the strongest amongst them, and they had fought for the chance to rule by his side.
He had been working toward this point since Tiago and Rune had left their positions last summer. This time the worldwide recruiting and screening effort had been conducted electronically. Notices had gone out, job application forms had been posted, and an entire team of recruiters and HR personnel had spent the last several months screening and checking references for all the applicants.
They had arrived at a short list of 448 contestants, and most of those were predator Wyr. There were any number of lions, of course, and several gargoyles. Dragos liked the gargoyles. They were community minded, and when they changed into their Wyr form, their stone-like surface was almost impossible to penetrate in hand-to-hand combat.
There was one of the two other known thunderbirds in existence aside from Tiago, a clash of harpies, and a very interesting, rare individual who was mixed race but whose Wyr side was strong enough that he could shapeshift. Most interesting of all to Dragos, there was a rare pegasus. While Powerful immortals, as herbivores pegasi were peaceful creatures, and it was unusual for one to seek out such a public, potentially violent position.
All-predator sentinels made for a hawkish group, a fact that was brought home to him when Pia, with her more peaceful outlook, began to sit in on conferences and voice her opinions. It might not be a bad thing to have a pegasus as a sentinel—as long as he could establish his prowess in physical combat. If he couldn’t fight worth shit, there was no point. The pegasus could go push some pencils in a bureaucratic position somewhere. Right here? It was call of the wild, baby.
The shortlist of contestants also included all five of his current sentinels, who had to participate in the Games to prove they were still the strongest and the best, because while the Wyr demesne adopted modern technology, legal concepts and principles, at its heart it was still a feudal system. It had to be; his sentinels needed to be the strongest and most capable of taking down any other Wyr who might go rogue, and they also had to be capable of leading a world-class defense against any potential attackers.
Might did not always equate with right, but it did provide damn strong security in an uncertain, often brutal world.
Still, the participation of the five sentinels was probably just a formality. Probably. The only stipulation Dragos had made was that they fight other contestants, because the point of their inclusion wasn’t to find out which of them was the strongest against each other. The real question was, were they stronger than anybody else?
Everyone was on edge, and more tempers than just his had flared frequently over the last few weeks. Crews had been laboring overnight to put the last touches on the combat arena. It was a simple area, a huge cordoned-off space with a sand-covered floor. The sand could be raked in between bouts to get rid of the blood.
Because there would be blood.
With all the paperwork and formalities out of the way, the Sentinel Games had just one objective: beat your opponent by any means possible. One fight, Wyr to Wyr. No weapons, no second chances, no holds barred.
There was just one rule: don’t kill anybody.
At least not on purpose.
? ? ?
Nobody wanted to talk to Dragos these days. No doubt it had something to do with him being so snarly. He was liable to bite off somebody’s head if they so much as looked at him funny. That wasn’t winning him any friends.
Which was all right with Dragos. He didn’t need friends, and he didn’t want to talk to anybody else, anyway. He could probably stand to not talk to anybody for the entire length of Pia’s trip away.
Yeah, that could potentially save lives and maintain inter-demesne alliances. Unfortunately, that strategy wasn’t on his agenda for the foreseeable future.
Approximately twenty thousand spectators were on site, along with countless staff and security, a team of medical personnel on standby for the week, the four hundred and forty-eight contestants, a gaggle of assorted dignitaries, some protest groups and a shitload of press.
Whenever his five current sentinels were not competing, they would be working with Wyr divisions in NYPD to maintain an extra-sharp vigilance throughout the city. This week would be particularly challenging for them, for they would have virtually no downtime between rounds in the arena, other than what they might need to physically heal from any injuries. They were all taking the rigors of the week as their own personal challenge to excel.