Read Heroes' Reward Online

Authors: Moira J. Moore

Heroes' Reward (31 page)

All of the
witnesses were gathered in the centre of the room. Taro and I abused our
position as a Pair to elbow our way to the edge so we could get a better view
of the events.

“Begin.”

They both jogged
to the nearest hurdle and started climbing.

As the hurdles
had rungs, Aryne didn’t need her special talents to get over them. They were
high, though. Just going up and over and down took effort. And then the
contenders jogged to the next one. There were twelve hurdles in all.

After they’d run
about three laps, Firen called out, “Tables,” and both contenders stopped at
the nearest table.

I watched Aryne.
The woman behind the table opened a slim book. “I’ll read a passage to you, and
you’ll recite it back to me.”

I smiled. Aryne
was excellent as this. And despite the fact that it sounded like the woman had
read out an entire page – Seriously? – Aryne rattled it back with thorough
confidence. Let’s see Green do that.

I couldn’t watch
Green right then, though. She was in another part of the room, and the crowd
obscured my sight.

Then, Firen
said, “Run,” and it began again.

So they ran and
climbed, and occasionally Firen would call for a mind test, apparently at
randam.

I didn’t always
get to watch the mind tests, as most took place at tables in other parts of the
room. I did notice the contenders’ hands and feet starting to slip on the
rungs, and I began to worry that Aryne would fall and crack her head open
against the buckled marble floor.

Once, Green
swore loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. That meant something had
gone wrong for her. Excellent.

As time went by,
both contenders moved more slowly and took longer to perform their mind tests.
Green started stumbling first, but it wasn’t a whole lot longer before Aryne
was barely managing to stay on her feet as well. Their clothing became soaked
with sweat, their chests heaving as they gasped for air.

When they stood
before the tables, they trembled. During one mind test in which she was
required to put blocks together to form a sphere, Aryne kept dropping the
pieces. They clattered loudly against the floor. It sounded ominous.

It became
painful to watch.

Once Aryne
stumbled so badly, she could keep her balance only by putting a hand on the
floor. Everyone gasped. I held my breath, wondering if that would be enough to
lose the contest, but Firen didn’t say anything, so the gruelling competition
continued.

Every so often,
my thoughts would go back to Gifford. I was sure he hadn’t had to endure
anything like this. He’d been significantly older than Green, and not nearly as
intelligent as either Green or Aryne. I’d wager he’d had to run only a single
lap and answer only a single question.

Green was right
in front of us when she tripped over a crack in the floor – or maybe her own
feet, it was hard to tell – and landed hard on her front. Only a quick shift of
her head allowed her to avoid dashing her jaw against the marble, which might
have solved our problems for us.

She did get the
breath knocked out of her, though, and she couldn’t immediately rise to her
feet.

Firen called,
“Done!”

“I’m not done,”
she objected, but her voice was weak, and when she tried to stand she fell over
again.

Aryne didn’t
stop, not right then. She tilted through another lap just to prove she could,
the little wretch.

Once she
finished, she weaved over to us and collapsed into Taro’s arms.

“Well done, my
girl,” he whispered into her ear.

Then the
arbitrators announced their decisions. Lady Ovan and Trader Thax found in
favour of Aryne. Ogawa found for Green.

Green was
shocked at the finding, we could all see it. She had lost so definitively and
yet had expected to be declared triumphant. Some of the spectators were
muttering, and those comments I could hear didn’t reflect well on Green.

The spectators,
who didn’t actually know the steps of the code, realised the show was over for
the night and drained out of the room. Chairs were brought in, along with
bathing jugs, food, and beverages. Taro and I pulled together a single table
with four chairs, while Druce collected a jug of water and a tray of fruit and
cheese and bread. There had been beef available, but that was too heavy for
Aryne to be eating right then.

Aryne sat down
and put her head in her arms on the table. Druce immediately pulled her up by
the shoulders. “You can’t afford to look like you’ve fallen asleep. Drink
this.”

Aryne perked up
a little after a mug of water. She perked up even more when Browne gave her
another dose of kyrra.

I watched Green’s
party, and she seemed alert. Browne was right. Green was taking kyrra, too.

The
Commissioner, the Premier Pair, and Browne withdrew to another table. Taro
pulled a deck of cards from his purse. He shuffled them a couple of times. “The
one who loses,” he said as he smoothly dealt the cards, “has to polish my
boots. All of them.”

It was surreal,
playing cards in the palace with people who wanted to kill us all over the
place. We’d thought playing cards would be a good way to keep Aryne awake
through the night. Something restful that gave her something to focus on.

It didn’t matter
what Aryne did, as long as she didn’t sleep.

“And if you
lose?” I asked. Because he wouldn’t win. Taro was an excellent card player, but
for some reason I could always beat him. I could feel when he liked or disliked
his hand. I had no reason to believe I could beat Aryne or Druce, though.

Taro kept his
attention directed to his cards. “I will sing in public.”

Aryne snorted.
“That’s a punishment, not a prize.”

From the way Aryne
jolted, I gathered Taro had given her a light kick to her ankle under the
table.

“You deserved
that,” Druce muttered as she rearranged her cards.

Playing cards
through the night brought back memories of the first post Taro and I had had,
in High Scape. There had been many nights when we had spent our watch in that
manner.

I had almost
gotten used to not sleeping through the night, with all the disruption I’d
endured through the last several months, but staying awake through the
following day, that would be difficult.

I could have
used some kyrra powder myself, but it wasn’t strictly necessary, and I didn’t
like what it did to me. I wouldn’t be calm and balanced, and Aryne needed my
balance more than my vigour. I drank coffee. It was almost as good.

The hours
passed. Green didn’t fall asleep either, damn it. Her party kept her awake by
singing to her. Some of the songs were lullabies. Perhaps they were hoping to
lure Aryne to sleep. This didn’t appear eough to overcome the effects of the
kyrra, though.

Eventually, the
sun rose, we all ate a light breakfast, and Aryne had another dose of kyrra as
the spectators returned, fresh from their full night’s sleep.

It was time to
start the final day.

 

Chapter Thirty-Four

Over the course
of the night, the hurdles had been modified, beams added to make them higher
and the rungs inserted farther apart. The tables hadn’t been removed. This test
was to run the same exercise, but under harsher conditions: the adjustments to
the hurdles, the fact that each contender had to her back strapped the kit of a
soldier, and their fatigue. Even with the kyrra, neither of them possessed the
vigour they had displayed the day before.

The contenders
took their positions and Firen called for them to start. They did so, slowly.

“This is ridiculous,”
Taro muttered. “When would she ever need to do this? It’s not a practical
experience.”

“It would be
handy in battle,” Browne suggested. “To be able to endure days and nights of
military conflict.”

“There aren’t
going to be any more military conflicts,” Taro responded firmly. “This is going
to end things, one way or another.”

I hoped so, but
I couldn’t feel optimistic about it. Horrible violence had been introduced to
everyone. Could we all really put this aside, now that we’d been exposed to it?
Gods help us if we slid back to the vicious mayhem people had regularly endured
centuries before.

One of the rungs
on one of the hurdles was pulled right out when Aryne put her hand on it. A lot
of people in the audience hissed. The majority, it seemed. Was Aryne gaining
supporters?

The shifting
rung caused Aryne to swing a little, but she was able to swing back and she
grabbed the top of the hurdle, quickly climbing over.

The rung could
have come out at any time, so it was illogical for me to feel it had been a
deliberate attempt to undermine Aryne.

“An indication
of how she handles the unexpected,” the Commissioner murmured. “This would be
an excellent training exercise.”

Only if he
wanted to earn the hatred of everyone he trained.

“The rungs fall
out!” someone shouted to Green. Giving her warning. The wretch.

Green slowed
right down so she could pull on each rung before trusting it with her weight.
Too bad it really wasn’t about who finished faster.

Wait a moment.
Did that mean one of them could just saunter from hurdle to hurdle, take her
sweet time climbing over them, and last longer because she hadn’t exerted
herself too intensely? That was probably allowed by the rules, too.

But it would be
a hell of a lot less impressive.

Neither of them
thought of it, though. That was good, I supposed.

It ended the
same way it had ended the day before. Green tripped and couldn’t get up. And
again, Aryne ran an extra lap just to rub it in.

As expected,
Ogawa found for Green. Lady Oval and Trader Thax found for Aryne.

“Lady Aryne is
triumphant,” Firen announced. “Contenders may rest for two hours. They may not
sleep.”

Aryne stumbled
over to our table. After she had drunk another mug of water, Browne gave her
another dose of kyrra.

That couldn’t be
good for Aryne, consuming so much so quickly.

And half-way
through our meal my concern was realised. Aryne’s face became a little paler
than it should be and she grabbed the nearest bowl and threw up into it. The
sound of her retching was loud, seeming to bounce off the walls, and everyone
stopped talking.

Browne hurried
back over to us and checked Aryne’s eyes and throat and put a palm against her
forehead. “I don’t think she’s ill,” she said in a low voice.

Aryne grabbed
another bowl to vomit into, a bowl that was still half full of soup. Which was
fine. We’d all lost our appetites, anyway.

“It’s the
kyrra,” I whispered. “She’s had too much.”

“That’s
possible,” Browne admitted.

“Could it be
poison?” Taro asked. “Right now, Aryne’s one test ahead. Sort of.”

“It would count
as interference,” said Browne.

“This is
important. Green might think the risk worth it. And she might think we couldn’t
prove it.”

“Can you tell?”
I asked Browne.

Aryne was
running out of bowls.

“I didn’t bring
the right ingredients,” Browne fretted. “I didn’t expect anything like this.”

“Lord Firen!”
Taro called out. “A word, please.”

Firen frowned.
“I won’t speak to you alone,” he said. “I risk accusations of favouritism if I
do so. If you wish to speak to me in private, Lady Green must be present.”

That was a
legitimate position to take, but it was inconvenient. I didn’t want to discuss
in front of her the possibility that Green had poisoned Aryne. If she hadn’t, I
didn’t want to give her any ideas.

I looked at
Green. She was watching Aryne with great satisfaction. That didn’t necessarily
mean she was the cause of Aryne’s discomfort. She would triumph at any sign of
weakness.

“Tea,” Aryne
croaked. “Give me tea. Please.”

Druce fetched a
cup for her.

Aryne was
careful sipping her tea, but she looked a little better after she’d finished.
It probably helped that a servant had come out of nowhere to remove the
vomit-laden bowls. It certainly helped settle
my
stomach.

“I’ll drink tea
and soup,” Aryne said in a clearer voice. “Then I’ll have more kyrra.”

“If you start retching
in the middle of the test, there’s no chance of you winning it,” Taro warned
her.

“And if they are
poisoning you, it has to be through the food,” Browne added.

“I’ll make the
soup myself. No one would have anticipated I would do that. The ingredients in
the kitchen were meant to be used by both Green and me. They wouldn’t have
meddled with them there, in case Green accidentally chose a tainted
ingredient.”

That was
probably true.

Aryne didn’t
linger to hear any further suggestions or warnings. She just left the table.

“We’re going to
the kitchen,” Taro told Firen.

“Why?”

“Is it against
the rules?”

Firen considered
that. “No.”

“She’s not to
leave the room,” Green objected.

“She’s not to
leave the palace,” Firen corrected her.

“I insist on
going with her.”

“Fine,” Aryne
barked back.

So a ridiculous
crowd followed Aryne to the kitchen. As I watched Aryne pick out her
ingredients, I realised she was preparing a soup designed for her tastes. That
was far better for her stomach than what was being served in the ballroom.

Over the
following two hours, Aryne drank the whole pot. Not only did she manage to keep
it down, it seemed to revive her a little.

Just before the
next test was to start, Aryne held her hand out to Browne.

Browne
hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“I really don’t
have a choice, do I?”

No, she really
didn’t.

We watched her
anxiously as she licked the kyrra off her palm. The tension returned to her.
She didn’t look nauseated.

It had taken a
bit of time for the nausea to kick in after the last dose. She still might end
up vomiting in the middle of the test. One of the most dangerous tests, of
course.

We returned to
the ballroom. There was only a single table remaining, two identical rapiers
lying upon it.

Green swiftly
grabbed up one of the rapiers, carefully testing the point and the side of the
blade, and then the balance. It was obvious she wanted to try the other as
well, but Aryne got to it first.

Physically
fighting over the throne was so barbaric I could barely stay silent about it.
It had nothing to do with being a good ruler. It was supposed to symbolise
health and the ability to protect the people from harm, but it was really
nothing more than a brutal residual from less civilised times.

Then again, the
traditional performance of the code didn’t involve an actual fight. The heir
was required only to demonstrate knowledge of the sport.

“The classic
rules are suspended for this test,” said Firen. “It is legitimate to strike
with either the point or the side of the blade. There is no target area. You
may strike any part of the body. There are no rules, there are no points, there
will be no pauses. The arbitrators will not be delivering judgments. The first
to raise blood wins the test. Take positions.”

Aryne and Green
faced each other, standing close enough to cross their blades.

“Begin.”

The word was
barely out of his mouth before Green thrust her blade at Aryne’s stomach. Aryne
parried with a wide swing of her rapier. Green angled her blade in a way that
looked odd – at least, to me – that had her point driving straight to Aryne’s
face, her eyes in particular.

Green wasn’t
going for first blood. She was aiming to kill.

Aryne wasn’t
able to counter this strike with her blade. Instead, she just dropped, rolled,
and then jumped back to her feet, teetering a little over one of the cracks in
the floor.

It quickly
became clear that Green had far more skill in this activity than Aryne. Green’s
attacks were vicious but controlled. Aryne, for the most part, had to rely on
dodging rather than using her rapier. I could see that Green was actually
directing where Aryne was going. She slashed at Aryne’s left side, then her
right, and then back at her left. Even when Aryne jumped out of reach, Green
lost only a moment in crowding into her again.

Aryne had been trained
for this for years. No one had ever indicated she lacked talent in this area.
Maybe she didn’t, but maybe Green was just particularly good. And Aryne had to
work far harder to defend herself than Green did attacking. If the match became
a test of endurance, Aryne would not only lose, but it was likely she’d be
killed.

And Druce would
be taken down with her.

I wanted to jump
in. I didn’t care if it meant Aryne lost the whole ball, I wasn’t going to
stand there and let her get killed.

But if I
interfered, she’d end up dead anyway, one way or another. And all of this,
everyone’s work and courage and sacrifice, would have been for nothing.
Sometimes I hated life.

Besides, I
didn’t know how to use a rapier, did I? I could have learned. I’d had plenty of
opportunity. Why had I persisted in refusing? Any weapon was handy. Stupid.

Aryne backed up,
and backed up, and backed up. The closest spectators parted to get out of her
way.

Damn it, Green
was forcing her to the wall, and Aryne just couldn’t escape.

And then, she
was trapped, her ability to use her rapier hampered.

Green thrust at
her face.

For some reason
Aryne raised her empty left hand instead of her rapier. Green’s blade sliced
through the side of her palm. Aryne cried out in pain, blood rising to the skin.

But Green wasn’t
satisfied with winning. She pulled back to strike again.

Aryne used the
moment to slide down the wall and roll again. She rolled herself right into a
stone jutting up out of the floor. She used her right hand to avoid crushing
her face against the stone, dropping her rapier.

“Enough!” Firen
called out.

Green didn’t
stop. She jumped forward and sliced the side of Aryne’s arm.

Aryne struggled
to her feet. It looked like Green was going to stab her in the back.

“You will
forfeit if you don’t stop!” Firen shouted.

“That’s not in
the rules!” Ogawa objected.

Apparently, the
word
forfeit
was able to infiltrate Green’s mind, for she finally
stopped. Her feral grin was disturbing.

“Lady Green is
triumphant,” Firen announced.

And that was the
end of the tests.

Looking back, I
counted the triumphs of each contender. Out of eight tests, Aryne had won four
and Green had won three, with the law test undecided. So, if they found in
favour of Green, each participant would have won four tests.

A tie. Possible
because of the even number of tests. No one thought of that before because we
were all brilliant.

“Lady Ovan,
Trader Thax, do you have a judgement concerning the legal test?” Firen asked.

“I find in
favour of Lady Aryne,” said Lady Ovan.

“I find in favour
of Lady Aryne,” said Trader Thax.

“Lady Aryne has
given us a superior performance of the code,” Firen proclaimed. “She is
entitled to the crown.”

People gasped as
though they never would have guessed that for themselves, and then spoke, and
then argued. The volume of the chatter rose quickly.

They shut up
when Green shouted, “The rules don’t state the person who provides a superior
performance wins the crown!”

That was the way
of devising new customs, wasn’t it? You couldn’t predict what might go wrong,
what might be lacking, until it was attempted.

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