Page 55 of Bloodguard

He shakes his head, remorse heavy in his voice. “On the toughest days, even when fear battered me, I was never a coward. I was that day. I shouldn’t have given in to those fucking rules. I should have held my ground and challenged any guard demanding I kill Sullivan—I should have demanded an audience with Vitor and Soro!”

“What would that have done?” I ask. The thought of Leith challenging them scares the hell out of me. I know Soro. Leith would not have made it far. And Vitor… He will do anything for the good of the kingdom, and he believes that’s the continuation of the games. “Sullivan would have succumbed to his injuries, and they’d have an excuse to kill you, too.”

“But I would have taken them with me,” he snaps. His eyes darken. “I would have sliced them from throat to groin and torn out their hearts for what they’ve made us do—all for fucking coin!”

It’s mostly true. Vitor and Soro forced Leith to kill his friend to satisfy the people’s greed. And not just for coin—for blood.

“They cheered, remember?” Leith says, jolting me back to the moment. “The entire crowd was on their feet when I cut Sullivan’s hair from his corpse. To them, I was another barbarian fulfilling his duty to entertain.” He looks at me. “They never imagined thatme, a gladiator, amurderer, would have the heart to honor his friend.”

“I knew you would,” I say.

Leith is brutal in the arena, but he’s no brute. He’s a good man who did all this for his family, long before he did anything for himself. And killer or not, he’s capable of kindness that men with riches have never thought to give.

I hope that he believes me. “You were a true friend.”

He turns away, gazing across the lake. “Sullivan would have liked it here,” he says quietly.

His hardened exterior returns, yet he slowly drops to his knees, the blanket over his shoulders slipping away onto the ground as he clutches the pieces of his fallen friend against his heart. He closes his eyes and recites an old poem reserved for the brave.

The warrior,

He led the way,

Through blood,

Through fear,

Through rage,

But when death became the foe he could not beat,

He faced it willingly and at last won his peace.

I kneel beside him and lower my head.

When he’s done, Leith scoops a section of moss away with a flat stone. With care, he places the strands of Sullivan’s hair into the soil and covers them with the moss he removed. The flat stone becomes the marker to Sullivan’s grave. It’s simple and perfect amidst the bountiful flora.

I gently pull a lily from the cluster beside that and rest it over the grave, using the language of my elven ancestors to bid Sullivan infinite serenity.

This twisted bloodbath cannot be allowed to continue. It is a stain on our kingdom, on our culture. By the great phoenix, even if it means Vitor’s death, Imust bequeen.

chapter 21

Maeve

“What must be done to win?” I ask the next day.

I’m in the north wing of the castle, the section that houses the barracks and the war chambers for the lieutenants and generals.

It’s a miracle Soro isn’t here.

A guard with thick red hair looks around, her blue eyes darting left and right. The squat man next to her does, too. Though we’re in a quiet antechamber, that doesn’t mean that other guards or captains won’t walk in.

I’m taking a huge risk—they are, too.

I pass along two heavy pouches of gold. One for each of them.

The female guard pauses. “We can’t take bribes. The Gaming Commission would behead us if we’re caught tampering with the games.”

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