With a triumphant shout he lunged forward, head-butting Radimar hard enough in the stomach to knock the wind out of him. Both men crashed to the groud, Alreed on top of Radimar. The champion abandoned his shield to rip at Radimar’s helmet and expose his head for a skull cracking. Radimar heaved to one side just in time to avoid the full impact of a blow as Alreed drove his sword pommel toward Radimar’s face. The pommel clipped the edge of his helm and caught the curve of his cheek just below his eye. For a moment, Radimar’s vision went black on that side, and the inside of his skull vibrated.
He had managed to keep a grip on his own swords when he fell and used their pommels to slam them into into Alreed’s sides. A satisfying pop sounded, and Alreed groaned. It wasn’t enough to dislodge him. The swords were too long to maneuver in the close space between them. Radimar released one and smashed the heel of his gauntleted hand into the underside of his opponent’s chin.
This time Alreed screamed and hurtled backwards, but not before showering Radimar in a spray of blood, teeth and what he suspected were bits of Alreed’s tongue.
Radimar sprang to his feet, snatched up his sword and retreated back to the straw as he waited for Alreed to rise. The side of his face throbbed hard enough to make his entire head pound and he wiped away blood not his own so he could see properly. Had the champion’s blow struck him full on, he would have killed Radimar.
Alreed rose on a stagger, blood coursing from his mouth and down his chin in a crimson stream. He grinned at Radimar, revealing broken teeth and spaces where no teeth remained. His breathing gurgled, and he spat gobbets of blood into the straw. Animalistic growls vibrated from his throat as he retrieved his sword and shield. The man who said he’d take Jahna like a dog was transforming into one himself, made rabid by pain and fury.
Sensing that this duel, begun as an exercise of frivolous entertainment, had turned both personal and deadly, the crowd screamed for more. For Radimar, their screeching was nothing more than a whisper. There was only Alreed and his defeat.
It didn’t take long after that. The swordmaster of Ilinfan proved to all who witnessed the fight that those who trained with the Brotherhood of Ilinfan knew and understood the art of the sword like no other.
Alreed’s attacks had lost all finesse, becoming nothing more than the charges of a maddened bull. Radimar dodged them effortlessly, using his own swords either to deliver land multiple bruising strikes. When the disappointed king finally declared him the winner, Radimar had Alreed on his knees, facing the king, one of Radimar’s blades pressed to the champion’s throat in the sign of victory.
People roared his name and soon a hail of flowers, ribbons, scarves, gloves and hats rained down in the arena, pelting Radimar as he saluted the king and walked away from the now prone and bloodied Alreed. The sound of his name shouted in chant filled the night air, but the triumph he felt sprang not from the crowd’s adulation but the internal satisfaction of wreaking vengeance on the man who had insulted a woman so undeserving of the offense.
Once more he paused before Lord Uhlfrida whose jubilant expression assured Radimar he’d just made his employer a wealthier man than he had been earlier in the day. Jahna’s own features held a mixture of joy and fear. For him. She clasped her hands together and offered him a low bow, one mimicked by her father. Radimar bowed in return and tapped his shoulder where the brooch rested unharmed under his hauberk.
He exited the field, now littered with favors of every type and met a grinning Sodrin who looked ready to jump out of his skin from sheer elation. “That was incredible! I’ve never seen the like in any Exhibition!” He inhaled a long breath to calm himself. “And you defended my sister’s honor,” he said in a much more even voice. “You were right, Sir Radimar. You didn’t kill him, but you sure made him wish you had.”
The rest of the night passed in a blur. King Rodan requested an audience and sent an armed guard to escort Radimar to him so the shrieking crowd wouldn’t strip him naked in a frenzied bid to carry a small token home from the swordmaster who had beaten the king’s champion in the arena.
He refused Rodan’s offer to join the royal guard and declined the second offer of replacing Alreed as royal champion. The king scowled. “I didn’t expect a refusal, swordmaster.”
Sensing he was on dangerous ground, Radimar bowed low and tried to ignore the dizziness the movement produced. “I’m honored by your offers, Your Majesty, but I can best serve you and the kingdom of Belawat as a teacher for those men who fight in your name. It is an Ilinfan swordmaster’s first duty.”
Rodan grudgingly acceded to Radimar’s argument. “At least dine with the queen and me tomorrow evening. We will expect you.” It was less of an invitation and more of a command, and Radimar readily accepted though he wished instead he could spend such time with the Uhlfrida family.
He didn’t see Jahna until the small hours of the morning, when the palace had finally quieted and many of the celebrants had finally found their beds or some alcove in which to sleep before they rose again at morning to participate in the last day of the Delyalda festivities.
She stood in the first chamber of their suite, near the shuttered window, head bent as she read a manuscript by the light of a single candle she held in one hand. She looked up as Radimar opened the door and slipped inside. All around them, servants slept on pallets laid on the floor, and the chorus of snores and snuffles hid the light tread of his feet on the stones.
“You are a popular man,” she whispered when he came to stand beside her.
“A tired one as well,” he replied.
Her gaze searched his face, resting for a time on the purpling bruise marring his cheek where Alreed struck him. Her lips quirked. “By tomorrow you’ll have a mark to match mine.”
She’d never know about the filth the king’s champion or his two lackeys had spewed about her. Nor would they say anything else about her, good or bad. He made sure of it. Alreed was already under the care of an army of leeches, in no shape to boast about fucking anybody much less actually performing the act.
Radimar had found the two who joined him in his slander. One was guaranteed to piss blood for the next few days, and the other nursed two black eyes, but both had ardently promised to keep their mouths shut about Uhlfrida’s daughter in the future.
He touched a tender spot under his eye with a fingertip. “It won’t match my hair,” he teased.
Jahna’s lips tightened to stifle her laughter. “Well no, but somehow I don’t think that will frighten away your admirers.”
“Why are you still awake so late?”
She waved the parchment in front of him, her eyes gleaming in the candle’s gentle flickering. “I received a message earlier that Dame Stalt and the Archives council wish to meet with me regarding your accounts of Ilinfan that I recorded.”
He scanned the missive she handed him. “This sounds very promising.” He handed the parchment back to her, noting how slender her ink-stained hands were.
She set it on the small table next to her. “I hope so. Had they rejected my documents, they would have informed Father through messenger. These meetings are only for those whose work they’re seriously considering for acceptance into the Archives.”