Page 26 of Stardust Child

“My lady?” Sir Miche glanced back at her, his blond brows drawing together. “I was just teasing, you know. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want guards.” She could hardly find the words to speak what was bothering her, and even if she could, she couldn’t tell anyone, even Sir Miche. “I don’t want hallows. Don’t they want to have their own families one day? Doesn’t that mean they’ll keep guarding me even after we die? I’m…”

…nothing.

She swallowed the word, but Sir Miche looked at her as if he had heard every thought racing through her mind.

“The Duchess of Andelin,” he said, with none of his usual frivolity. “You’re not just Ophele of Aldeburke anymore, my lady. You’re a position. The first lady of the House of Andelin must be protected, and Rem’s wife doubly so. If any harm came to a child of the House of Agnephus, he would be blamed, and the stars only know what would happen then. You know that.”

There was no arguing that. However ill-suited she was to the role, there was no doubt that the role existed and she was in it. It was irrefutable logic and still made absolutely no sense.

“But still,” she said, looking again at the line of men. “They’re going to give up their whole lives…”

“Didn’t you do that?” Sir Miche pointed out. “Rem told me what you said, about making up for what your father has done. You’ve done quite a lot to try to make up for it. And though Rem won’t tell you so, he doesn’t understand it, either. He feels guilty about it.”

“But…that’s…” He hadn’t just taken the wind out of her sails, he’d scuttled her whole ship. Ophele floundered. The thought that Remin might feel the same way she did had never occurred to her.

“I’ll tell you what I told him,” Sir Miche said, to punctuate his point. “Respect their decision. People have the right to spend their lives as they choose.”

This was all far too much for her to offer any intelligent response, much less a counter argument. But somehow Ophele felt that even after she had reasoned it through, she would likely find that he was right.

“You’re a very good friend,” she said finally. He flashed a smile.

“I’m spending my life how I choose, too,” he said with his usual drawling good humor. “Now, did Rem tell you what he was planning, or did he just show up in armor?”

“He just showed up,” she said, fluttering her fan to hide her smile.

“His genius is very specific,” he observed with an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t forget to scold him for it later, or he’ll never learn. He wants the pressure of a crowd watching while he tests your guardsmen, and the two who perform best will take the oaths as hallows. It’s not a complicated plan,” he acknowledged, and made her laugh.

“He really won’t get hurt?” she asked, directing her attention back to Remin. “He doesn’t even have his helmet.”

“He doesn’t need it. No archers, and this isn’t a fight to the death. He wants to be able to hear, especially when he’s outnumbered. Looks like they’re ready,” he added, rising to swing over the railing, perfectly at ease with going to speak to a thousand people at a moment’s notice.

“The melee today will be different from the usual contest,” he announced, his voice clear and carrying. “All of you know you’re here for the new beginning of an ancient land, whose traditions were lost in the invasion of Valleth. Today you will see the creation of new traditions, and the building of a new House. You are privileged to witness history,” he added, with a wicked glance at Ophele that made her want to smack him. “Today’s melee will be fought against His Grace, the Duke of Andelin, for the honor of becoming the hallows of the duchess.”

A babble of amazement rose from the crowd, and Ophele sensed the weight of their eyes as an almost tangible thing, swinging from the challengers to herself, an insignificant little figure hidden in the shadowof Remin’s chair. So many eyes. The weight of them made her feel faintly breathless, but she lifted her chin and looked straight ahead, trying for Remin’s sake to look like someone who deserved hallows.

With the exception of Sousten Didion, the watching crowd was probably less interested in the historical event unfolding before them and more interested in watching Remin Grimjaw fight fourteen of the best warriors in the valley. Betting was brisk.

“Good luck,” Sir Miche concluded, with a satirical glance at the challengers, and got out of the way.

How exactly was the winner determined? Did they have to knock Remin down? Knock him unconscious? He was tall, but there were at least three other knights approaching his size. Ophele shot Sir Miche an anxious glance as he flopped back into his chair. She had no idea what to expect. She had never seen anyone fight, with or without a sword. For a few moments, the combatants milled, looking at each other.

The last thing she expected was forReminto charge.

He exploded into motion faster than she had ever seen anyone move, descending on the two unfortunate men to his left like a lightning bolt. They barely had time to step back, much less lift their swords before he was on them, standing so close together that he smashed both blades out of his way with a single strike. Was that why he had decided to attack them? Her hands went to her mouth as his huge boot slammed into one man and ripped the sword out of the other man’s hands, flinging it a dozen yards away.

The man he had kicked flew a third of that distance and landed nearly as hard as Sir Osinot had. He did not get up.

Remin’s shaggy head turned like a wolf scenting the air. Even from a distance she could see his black eyes moving over the nearest men, the opaque eyes of a predator, sharp and eager.

“They always think he’s going to be slow,” Sir Miche remarked as Remin pounced on a third man. This one at least managed to get his sword up, but theclangas Remin’s sword struck it was so loud, it felt as if the very air vibrated. A fourth man tried to seize the opportunity while Remin’s back was to him, but Remin must have heard him coming; his left arm came down on the third man like a falling tree and his sword swung up to block the fourth man’s strike with such force, it almost knocked him over.

“Oh,stars,”Ophele managed, shocked, as the remaining men scattered. Fourteen men, now down to ten, in less than two minutes. “How—how—is it just that he’s strong? Is he hitting them so hard?”

“Partly,” Sir Miche replied as Remin looked down at the men he had just flattened. Ophele would have sworn he was asking them if they were all right. “It’s more he knows where to hit. You can see how fast he is, and when he hits you it’s like having a mountain fall on you, but more important, he can look and see exactly where the openings are, and how to attack them. And he’s much faster at closing the distance than people expect.”

“Even against you? And the other knights?”

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