Page 46 of Bloodguard

“All the rules were followed by this young gladiator,” Jakeb says in a level tone. “He fought his opponents, and while he didn’t slay them directly, his strategy bestowed him the win.”

“Count Nathanial is dead!” someone else says.

“With all due respect, my lord,” a young woman with a light voice replies.Giselle. “Count Nathanial was about as bright as a donkey’s asshole at midnight. Is this really a loss for his court?”

“Giselle,”Jakeb warns.

“Father,” Giselle says.

There’s murmuring. Lots of it. A crowd has formed around me.

“Give him to me, Soro.” Jakeb addresses that bastard once again. “Leith remains in good standing. He is worth more alive than dead.”

Someone nudges my side with their foot. I cough up more water.

“Father?” Soro says.

So, Vitor is here, too.

“High Lord Vitor, if I may remind you,” Giselle says, addressing the regent, “Nathanial has no heir, and as your liege, his house’s riches and that of his bride now belong to you.”

“What say you, High Lord? May we depart?” Jakeb asks. His words are polite. His tone is not.

My legs are on fire, and my vision blurs, then goes dark again.

A few disgruntled lords and one sharp-voiced female continue to object, demanding my head. Hmm, no one put up such a fuss when I beheaded Lord Peacock. So, it’s not really aboutwhatI did, just aboutwhoI did it to. Interesting.

“He followed the rules,” High Lord Vitor says simply. He pauses. “He’ll fight again.”

Will I? I’m not so sure.

Soro argues and curses. Other voices are yelling.

“Enough,” Vitor declares, and his sharp tone silences everyone around me. “This gladiator is strong and smart. In the arena, we honor these qualities. We honor ourlaws. I, for one, look forward to seeing what he does next.”

There’s a pat on my arm. “Do try to survive, Leith of Siertos,” Vitor says smoothly.It’s Leith of Grey, asshole, but whatever.“And if you can’t, be sure to die in the arena next time, will you, young man?”

The joke has some of these lords laughing. Although it breaks the tension, there are still grumbles and mumbled complaints as strong arms hook under mine and lift me. “Try to prevent his feet from touching the ground, Caelen,” Jakeb says.

“Yes, Lord Jakeb,” the man holding my right side replies. There’s a faint brush of long braids against my shoulder as he adjusts his hold. It’s that soldier…the one who keeps Jakeb’s company.

As I’m carried away, the arguing royals are replaced by familiar voices.

The gladiators. They’re still here. Instead of fighting, they’re headed back to the barracks.

“He’s alive,” Sibor mutters.

“Are ya sure?” Ned asks.

Giselle assures him as only she evidently can. “He’s alive. He just looks like shit.”

“He won’t stay alive if we don’t hurry,” Caelen adds. “Look at his leg. It’s twice as large as the other.”

“Oh, thatisnasty,” Giselle says. “Look, it’s purple and his skin is all stretched to hell and back. That can’t be good.”

“Eels aren’t venomous,” Caelen says, keeping his voice low. “They’re only known to shock and bite.”

“Unless they were fed poison,” Jakeb adds. “Look at that red web of veins. It’s spreading.”

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