Page 61 of The Laws of Nature (Heirs of the Empire #3)

TOBI

T obi watches as Harok is forced back up to his feet and taken from the Sacred Hall out into the dark courtyard.

Lymok, smiling, walks down from the dais. “Come, kushir,” he says, “you will sit at my side for the first trial. The Trial of the Beasts. A place of great honour. Lymok beckons the guards beside Tobi and they pull him up to his feet. Tobi is marched behind Lymok into the courtyard.

A cold wind blows across the wide open space.

The snow has stopped but it still covers the ground, sparkling in the dark.

There are torches lit everywhere. In the zhilvar, Tobi can see the remains of the feast. Was it really this same night he ate and drank with Harok, thinking of nothing but his Irgorye’s bed?

The tables are still set. Lanterns still lit.

He looks around for Harok, but he cannot see where he has been taken.

Tobi only wears his alit. He is offered no cloak, but he barely feels the cold, even the icy cobbles beneath his bare feet.

He feels numb all over. He thinks of the sword he held in his hand.

He was going to kill Harok. Lymok has that blade now.

He glances at it tucked into Lymok’s belt as they cross the courtyard, the purple stones in the hilt glittering.

It’s too long for Lymok to wear it in such a fashion.

, Even Harok wore it on his back. The point almost touches the ground.

They reach the circular pit. Torches blaze all around the top of it.

Mereli had mentioned this, hadn’t he? The pit is used for the first trial. The Trial of the Beasts.

Tobi’s guards lead him behind Lymok, up the steps on the outside of the pit to a viewing platform at the top. Parts of it that were ruined have been draped with rich fabrics to hide the damage and decay. At the top of the steps a viewing platform has been set up with chairs and cushions.

Lymok sits himself on a tall wooden chair.

He places his sword across his lap. Tobi looks at it.

He has never felt such a feeling about a weapon before.

He has heard of fabled swords in stories.

Blades that were meant to be wielded by one man.

But he is the last person who would be meant to use an enchanted sword. He was never good at warcraft.

Tobi is placed on a low stool beside Lymok’s chair.

It reminds him of the stool from the stable.

The one Harok would sit upon to watch him with Baby.

Perhaps it is that very stool. There are more Solwen on the platform, crowded on benches, looking down into the pit, a large circular hole with a dirt floor and timber walls.

Lymok reaches out and puts a hand on Tobi’s thigh. The touch is possessive and unpleasant, but Tobi is cold and Lymok’s hand is warm. “When Harok is sacrificed, all that is his will become mine. I will take you as my own kushir,” he speaks Artemian, his voice a low purr.

Tobi’s belly seizes. “Me? Why would you want me? You do not have the taste of the deep earth, you told me so. You could have any kushir you wished. ”

“I would make an exception for you. And I want an Azurian prince at my side.”

“I thought the Empire charged you to kill me.”

Lymok raises an eyebrow. “Kill? No. They simply asked that I made sure you did not leave Urynwud alive. And you will not. I will keep you in the kushir’s chamber.

I will be your Irgorye and your Ereyek. An honour for you my sweet prince.

The Forest of Amber will become part of the Great Azurian Empire under my rule.

I am blood of this forest and from a grand Azurian noble family.

Who better than me to lead the Solwen when we join with the Empire?

The Rose Court has promised me I will even be able to extend my rule into Ismagaar.

There is great wealth there. I will be the greatest Solwen Irgo there has ever been. ”

Tobi makes a cold laughing sound. “You are a fool,” he hisses.

“If you think Azuria will allow that, you are wrong. They will call you a heathen and a heretic for making rites to Diazuul. You will never be able to hold the Exceli and the Empire. And Azuria knows this. They know why Lal and Erond could not make a pact. You should ask Mereli about it. You are the Empire’s tool.

They are using you to take Urynwud for them and they will betray you.

Look at how they have treated me? I am Selim’s own blood.

And if you want me as kushir, you are only helping them.

A sly marriage is a sin before Zai. If you take me to your bed that will make it easy for them to dispose of you. ”

Lymok waves a hand. It is clear to Tobi that despite his claims of wishing to learn more of Azuria and his mother’s birthplace, Lymok does not understand the ways of the empire at all if he thinks taking Tobi as kushir will bring him any support from the Rose Court.

Or that any of what the Empire has promised him will be delivered.

“So you will be just like your father Irgo Vahul?” Tobi says in a defiant tone that is all performance. “Taking command when the Irgo was given to Diazuul. I will be the Azurian kushir. Just like Alyse. Just like your mother. What would she think of what you’re doing now?”

“Do not speak of my mother.” Lymok raises his hand as if to hit Tobi. Tobi flinches, but Lymok seems to think better of it.

Any other remark Tobi might have made dries in his mouth.

Because Harok appears on a platform opposite, on the other side of the pit, still chained between two guards.

His cloak has been removed. He wears only the hip cloth.

His chest is still smeared with dried blood.

He is standing on a wooden platform that extends over the lip of the pit.

There are two further guards at his back.

One of them leans in and unlocks Harok’s chains so he can bring his arms to the front of his body, the iron bracelets still in place at his wrists and around his ankles and neck.

He moves his right arm awkwardly, as if being chained has caused his weakened shoulder pain. He has a new bruise on his face.

The crowds watching all around cheer to see him like this. Their hated heretic Irgo.

But Harok lifts his chin, noble as a king. “You will regret this Lymok,” Harok says, voice rough and dry. It makes Tobi’s heart chill.

Lymok gazes cooly back at Harok, his long fingers playing with the hilt of Harok’s sword. “Will I? When your lies are exposed as the demon you claim to have slain devours you?”

“Diazuul will not devour me because he is dead. Slain by my own hand.” The Solwen around the edges of the pit jeer and boo.

“You really think,” says Lymok, “that a wretch like you could kill a God? ”

“You really think,” Harok says in a low threatening tone that still carries across the pit. “That a wretch like you could kill me? I am the Unkillable Irgo. But you are welcome to try and slay me. Come Lymok, you have my sword. Draw it and face me in combat.”

Lymok makes a sharp chuckling noise. “I think not. This is a more fitting fate for you. Let the first trial begin. The Trial of the Beasts!” He raises his voice as his sentence ends. The Solwen cheer.

Harok is shoved forward, hard and fast by the guards at his back. He lurches off the platform and falls into the pit. He lands heavily. Tobi winces to see it, feeling it like a stab to the heart. But Harok stands, chains hanging loose from his wrists and ankles.

He looks up, “You will be cursed for this, Lymok, just as Vahul was.”

“The only curse I fear is the one you brought upon us by forcing us to turn our backs on Diazuul,” Lymok says, leaning forward to call down into the pit, before he claps his hands. “Let us move on with this. He needs humbling.”

Tobi watches in horror. The Trial of the Beasts. Why had he never asked anyone more about these trials. What beasts? Where are they? There is a small gate on one side of the pit. After a scuffling noise, something appears behind it. Something moving. Huge and fearsome.

Something familiar.

Tobi freezes. “No,” he mouths to himself. He turns to Lymok and tugs his sleeve. “No,” he says aloud. “No, you cannot.”

On the other side of the gate is Baby.

“Are you not pleased to see your beast, kushir? In a place of such honour?”

“No,” Tobi whispers. Not an answer to Lymok’s question, but an expression of dread. Baby is behaving strangely, snarling and roaring, pawing at the cage in a frenzy. He has never seen her in such a state even when she was desperate to protect him. “What have you done to her?”

“We simply made sure she was not fed this morning. And we added a little something to her drinking water. Just to keep her lively.”

Tobi’s heart turns over as he stares down at Baby, snarling behind the gate. She is clearly drugged with something. And Lymok has learned his lesson about the dosage to give her. She is half-mad. She is as if Tobi had never trained her. A wild animal.

With a terrible, squealing, clattering sound, the gate that holds Baby back from the pit begins to rise.

Harok is a great warrior, a strong fighter. But he is unarmed. He cannot die, Tobi tells himself. The demon inside him will not let him die.

Will not let his body die. But if he is weakened by this fight would that help Diazuul fully possess him? Tobi’s throat is thick. He blinks away tears. If he had only struck that blow true. If he had known how to kill a man…

He spent a whole year having lessons with the Rose Palace Master of Arms.

Before the gate is even halfway raised, Baby forces her way under it.

And Tobi realises something else. This is the first of three trials. Harok is not meant to die here. This is spectacle. There must be some way the Solwen ensure the tribute does not die during the Trial of the Beasts.

Tobi tugs on Lymok’s sleeve. “In this state she will kill him,” he says, a note of fear in his voice. “I thought you were planning to give him to Diazuul?”