Page 18

Killian

Only a knight was supposed to participate in the games, and none of us were knights, but perhaps Fae royalty was almost as good. After all, I knew what to do. I watched many matches, and I used to melee with my brothers and my friends. Sometimes our side would even win. I just wasn’t sure I could win against Bracca. I knew I could never hurt him in a fight, so if we did melee and he came at me, what was the point, really? He could injure me badly, and I knew it.

He was a big, powerful warrior and that would make up for any lack of experience on his part. He was stronger than I was and much more skilled with a sword and a lance. I didn’t think I would stand much of a chance against him. Or against Larek, for that matter, and there would be little to stop him from coming at me too. It was clear how much he hated me and blamed me for all that had gone wrong with his plans to take Daeneid.

Between the two of them, I didn’t expect to survive for long. Bracca had said he’d keep me locked up for the rest of my life, but I’d seen the look in his eyes after I told him he’d have to leave if we won and never return. He hated me now.

Mid-morning would be here soon, so I had little time to prepare. I knew what clothes to wear under my armor, as the tournament clothes were all highly symbolic. White clothes, signifying freedom from sin, a red tunic representing the willingness to shed blood, and black shoes symbolizing the readiness to face death at any time.

These clothes were covered by metal armor that Hendris had sent to me. It was only a helmet and a breastplate—all the Elves usually wore when they fought in battles. I’d have a heavy shield too. The Elves wore this heavy armor to protect themselves, and I’d been told that the Fairies would have similar equipment.

The designated area where we were fighting was by the gates, or just outside, and the time to meet was traditionally at mid-morning, which was almost here. My coronation had been early that morning. They had put the crown on my head and pronounced me, King Killian.

The signal for the tournament starting, which was usually a horn, would be given once things started, and the two sides would ride at each other and meet in the middle ground to fight.

I heard someone at my door and went to answer it. Hendris was there, so I stepped aside and let him come in. He saw the bed loaded down with all the armor and looked at me and shook his head.

“Are you really thinking of going through with this? As the king you don’t have to fight.”

“Yes, I do, Hendris. What other choice do I have?”

“You don’t have to do it at all!”

“If I don’t fight, then we forfeit. It would be considered unchivalrous, and he’d attack us.”

“We’re not mortals, Killian, and we don’t have to follow these silly rules. It’s not too late to call this whole thing off. We’ll fight them in the usual way, and you’ll be safe, directing the army from behind the lines. ”

“No. I won’t forfeit, and I won’t hide. This melee has to be better than real battle. It won’t be to the death, and I have to at least save some of the people if I can. This is all the fault of my parents anyway. They should have found a way around this stupid curse years ago.”

Hendris shook his head. “Once it took hold of them, they couldn’t escape it. Just like it’s taken hold of you and Bracca. There is no escape.”

“I don’t accept that and Bracca doesn’t understand about the curse, Hendris. Did you see his face when I told him we had to separate and not see each other again?”

“I saw it. He intends to punish you for that, Killian.”

“Punish me? How could he possibly hurt me worse than he already has?”

I took off the elaborate crown, put it down on my dressing table and turned to put on my breast plate, sticking my helmet under my arm. “It’s time to go and get this over with,” I said to Hendris. “Promise me you’ll leave Bracca to me.”

****

Killian

The field was full of painted shields and waving plumes and flags. If not for the nature of this melee it might have looked festive. Then again, the weather didn’t help.

The field in front of the caves was almost clean of snow, and especially after the cold, drizzly rain started. I suspected the Fairies had used their magic on the ground to ensure their footing would be at least somewhat secure. About a hundred or more Elven soldiers, mounted on stags had taken their places at the farthest part of the field and the same number of Fairies were on their own side. Most of the time a melee was a no holds barred kind of fight, with any hand-to-hand combat weapon a fighter wanted to use—swords, battle axes, maces or lances. Today seemed to be no exception.

Lances were the most effective at unhorsing an opponent, which after all, was the real goal. In this kind of fight, however, the foot soldiers would come to beat on the armor of any unhorsed man they saw to encourage him to give up his weapons, armor and his stag for themselves. I’d done that often for my stepfather when I lived in the mortal world and had never liked it. One important caveat though, was that we had agreed beforehand that the weapons would be blunted.

In other words, a lance would not have the pointed metal tip that could easily pierce armor and flesh alike. Instead, it would be a three-pronged affair that would easily knock a soldier off his stag but wouldn’t be nearly as lethal to the soldier.

I had yet to see Bracca or his father and I thought they must be at the other end of the field from me. I had sent Hendris away after he hovered around me like a mother hen, and I was waiting for the battle to start when I saw a rider riding at me fast from across the field. I thought he would soon veer off, but he came steadily on, and I realized he was coming for me.

He was wearing his helmet, so I couldn’t tell who it was at first, but from his size I knew it must be either Larak or Bracca. When he got closer, I could see that whoever he was, he meant business. He had his lance extended straight at me. He was charging me, and the melee hadn’t even started yet.

All around me, people were shouting their outrage, but I couldn’t afford to stand around and join them. I knew deep down that he was on his way to kill me.

I was shocked but at the same time, I had actually expected something like this. Suddenly, I knew exactly who this was coming to kill me if he could. It must be King Larek, and his lance had one, sharp metal tip, the better with which to run me through. I knew he had no love for me and meant to do me harm if he could. There was nothing I could do but spur my stag and ride at him as hard as I could, taking him by surprise with my ready response.

I think he thought I’d be frozen in fear or try to run away. He never tried to veer to the side at all as he came at me. He made his first pass, and I managed to lean far enough to the right to avoid the lethal tip of his lance. We passed each other, turned to face each other again and he rode at me hard again to make his next pass.

This time the metal tip of his lance hit my shield a glancing blow on the right side, but it was strong enough to knock it from my hand. I managed to somehow stay on my stag and turn to face him. He took his battle axe and threw it at me, end over end, hitting me squarely in the breastplate. It didn’t pierce the metal, but the pain was still intense and knocked the breath out of me. I didn’t think I’d be so lucky the next time, especially if it hit me in the same place again. I breathed frantically, trying to calm down and take in some air. He spurred his horse to make another pass at me and this time I couldn’t get out of the way fast enough and his lance scored a direct hit.

It had to be the new magic I had found that helped me stay on my mount and that kept the lance tip from piercing my armor. The force of the hit knocked me backward though, so I was lying back on the big broad back of the stag. I gripped hard with my knees and managed to keep my seat, but I heard the horrible sound of wood splintering. He had broken the lance off against my armor. He looked down at his lance in disgust and threw the shaft on the ground.

Yelling something in Fae at me, he threw off his helmet, and I saw that it was the king as I’d suspected. He snarled at me, jumped down and tried to drag me down from the back of my stag. I knew that if he got me on the ground, I was as good as dead, so I pulled up my own lance—the only thing I had left—and with the last of my strength, I brought it straight down into his neck. To my horror and surprise, the three-pronged, blunted tip pierced his throat. Maybe it was because it was made of iron and seemed to melt right into his flesh. I’d never even considered what iron might do to a Fairy’s body in a melee. I heard him try to scream, and I looked down to see that the huge, broad three-pronged tip had almost severed his head from his body. His head was barely hanging on, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

Horrified, I jumped off the stag to catch him as he fell, and I heard a hoarse scream come from behind me. I turned to see Bracca bearing down on us, riding rapidly across the field. He saw me standing on the ground beside his father’s now lifeless body, and he gave a hoarse shout. As soon as he reached us, he bailed off his stag and fell down beside Larek, groaning loudly in pain and grief.

“What have you done?” he screamed at me, and to my horror, he jumped to his feet and drew his huge sword. “I’ll kill you!” he cried, and I barely had time to raise my own sword before he was on me. The odd thing was that he wasn’t slashing at me but pushing at me with his fist around the hilt of his sword—pushing and shouting and calling me names. He was beyond furious at me and in that moment, I had no doubt that he hated me.

Suddenly, I knew exactly what was going to happen and I saw it in my mind’s eye as plainly as if it were happening right there in front of me.

He was completely distraught and out of his mind with grief and pain. I saw myself waiting for a moment of distraction, raising my sword and slashing it straight down across the back of his neck. I saw his body crumple and saw him fall. And I was glad . I wanted him dead in that moment. Both of them, dead at my feet.

And in that instant, I knew that I was seeing something that would truly come to pass if I willed it. The evil of the curse had found me at last. I was looking at a vision of the future, but it was only the future if I wanted it to be. I was about to murder Bracca, the man I loved more than I loved myself.

The knowledge slammed into me, waking me up, jarring those evil feelings out of me, and I shuddered in horror and threw my sword down on the ground. Falling to my knees in front of Bracca, I closed my eyes and waited for him to kill me.

“What are you doing?” he raged at me, his voice hoarse with grief. “Pick up your damn sword. Stand up and fight me!”

“No, darling, I won’t! I can’t! I’ll never hurt you. I can’t do that! Kill me instead and let’s put an end to this horrible curse! I’m ready. I love you far too much to ever hurt you.”

He shook his head, looking confused and dazed and devastated, and I knew how he must be feeling. His beloved father was dead on the ground in front of him, killed by his own husband! He had to avenge him and kill me in return. He had no other recourse. I was kneeling in front of him, so I bowed my head and waited for him to end it.

“I’m ready. Go ahead.”

He violently threw the sword down on the ground beside mine and fell to his knees beside me. He pulled me roughly into his arms and stared down into my eyes.

“I-I can’t. I love you too much.”

He lowered his head then as the icy rain began to fall from the skies, and I pulled him close, as close as I could get to him.

“Don’t leave me,” he said, and I shook my head.

“I’ll never leave you. Never.”

“Whatever this curse brings, we can face it together. But you can’t ever leave me. Promise me!”

“I promise.”

I felt we had made each other a solemn vow there where we knelt on the muddy field, in the blood and the rain. It was a vow that nothing and no one could ever break. It was a promise that I’d fight to keep from now until forever. Until the end of time.