Valour

‘A tyrant? Surely it’s a little too early to tell. I have only been Queen of Narvon and Ardan for half a day.’

 

 

Owain lunged at her but Morcant clubbed him across the shoulders, sending him sprawling.

 

‘You started the war between Brenin and me,’ Owain snarled.

 

‘Yes, I did. Which is why you accuse me of being a thief, I suspect. Stealing your realm from you. To be fair, you did have a choice in the matter. And Brenin did try to explain my part in things to you. He was always the brighter of you two. Besides, I have not stolen your realm; I have taken it from you. There is a big difference.’

 

‘But . . .’

 

‘Now, the real question left is what to do with you. You could serve me, you know. Be my vassal, govern part of my realm for me.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘I know, a shocking idea, and most likely a bad one. You see, I am not sure that I can trust you.’

 

Owain snorted.

 

‘So what other options do I have? Exile. A lenient ruler, merciful even, might choose that, as you are kin.’

 

She looked around the crowd. ‘What should I do with this vanquished king?’

 

‘Mercy,’ a voice shouted behind Veradis. It was Nathair, hands cupped to his mouth. ‘Show him mercy.’

 

‘Mercy,’ Veradis called out, joining his voice to Nathair’s. Soon it was a chant, hundreds strong.

 

‘Very well,’ Rhin said. ‘And if I grant you mercy, will you accept it?’ she said to Owain.

 

He stood silently, glowering at her.

 

‘Please, merciful I may be, but patient I am not. Well, not tonight, anyway. I am too hungry, and that roasting pig smells very good.’ She looked about the ring, all eyes on her.

 

She’s enjoying this, Veradis thought.

 

‘You killed my son,’ Owain said.

 

‘Not me personally, actually. That was him.’ Rhin pointed to Evnis. ‘But I did order his death.’ She shrugged. ‘It was war. Men die. But now the war is over, with you, at least. And you have the chance to live. Will you take it?’

 

‘I would rather die than serve you.’ Owain stared defiantly at her.

 

‘Very well.’ Rhin shrugged. ‘Braith, hold him. Morcant, take his head.’

 

The woodsman kicked Owain behind the knees, dropping him to the ground as Morcant drew his sword. Owain struggled, spluttering mud, then the sword was whistling, chopping with a wet thunk. It did not cut all the way through Owain’s neck, and his body jerked, spasmed, his feet kicking. Morcant wrenched his sword free and swung again, then Braith was holding Owain’s head for Rhin to see. He turned slowly, showing the crowd.

 

‘Well, that’s done, then. Put his head on a spike, Morcant, but later. First come and cut some meat for me,’ she said, rising and holding her hand out to her first-sword.

 

Veradis sighed at yet another life lost and looked down at Cywen. She was gone.

 

He snapped a curse at Bos, scanned the crowd.

 

‘But I was watching the head,’ Bos said.

 

Then Veradis saw her, a figure pushing through the crowd, moving determinedly towards Rhin. Thought she would have been going the other way, trying to escape. Then it hit him. She can’t seriously be thinking to kill Rhin. He charged after her, warriors grunting as he shouldered them out of the way.

 

Rhin was standing by the spitted boar, Morcant about to slice the first cut of meat for her, when Cywen stepped into the ring. She started to run, reaching a hand low to the heel of her boot – no doubt a hidden weapon. Veradis gave a burst of speed after her and yelled a warning, knowing he was too late, that she would reach Rhin before he managed to stop her.

 

Morcant looked up, shoved the Queen away and stepped forwards, reaching for his sword.

 

Cywen threw her knife and barely paused as it hit Morcant in the shoulder, knocking him back into the boar, flames flaring around him. She leaped at him, heedless of the flames, her hands reaching for the knife. Veradis closed the gap; all about people were staring in frozen surprise. Warriors hastened towards Rhin.

 

Morcant and Cywen rolled away from the fire, flames licking about them from Morcant’s clothes. She had a hand around the knife hilt, was trying to pull it out to use again. He managed to get a knee up and kicked out, catching Cywen in the gut, sending her rolling away. In a heartbeat he was on his feet, grabbing his dropped sword and raising it high. With a hiss of iron Veradis drew his own sword, sparks flying as he blocked Morcant’s swing. For a heartbeat the warrior stood and stared at Veradis, then Cywen was leaping at him again as Veradis lunged for her, grabbing a handful of her tunic, and managing to block another strike from Morcant as the warrior tried to cave Cywen’s skull in with the hilt of his sword. Veradis glimpsed Alcyon striding into sight, Calidus, Bos and Nathair close by. He pushed Cywen towards them just as Morcant seemed to decide that Veradis was an obstacle that needed to be removed.

 

Their blades clashed; Veradis retreated before a surprisingly fast combination of blows. He stepped out of range and then Rhin was moving between them, scowling at Veradis.

 

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