Page 40 of Chaos and Destiny
Never let them forget who you are at the expense of becoming what you think they want you to be.
My son’s final words to me before he left to find his destiny echoed in my mind. Alewyn had fulfilled her promise, and I only hoped the southern kingdom was on the winning end of the battle to come. Inok was right. I couldn’t ignore the northern kingdoms and simply hope they were also ignoring me. Maybe it was time to call in a war council and start talking about our defenses.
Shaking my head, I tried to bring my thoughts back to the arena where Muth stood rambling on about his fighters and why they were the best.
“Alexi, Alexi, Alexi,” the crowd chanted.
“Yes, yes. I know.” Muth’s snake-like smile plastered across his face as his voice echoed. “I will think about letting Alexi make an appearance tonight. He will not be fighting, but perhaps I’ll let him come say hello.”
“Boo!” the crowd jeered.
Muth held up his hands and let a fake, staged laugh roll from him. “Fine, fine,” he said. “One fight. The final fight.”
The crowd roared louder than it had all night, and obviously, they had played right into his hands. They would stay for all the lower-tiered fights, ordering drinks and placing bets, lining Muth’s pockets. Likely, Attoc was doing the same thing in his fighting arena. Attoc had a nicer establishment on the other side of the city, and while his fighters were fewer in number, his patrons made higher bets.
Muth stepped out of the pit, turning the stage back over to the announcer, who stalked forward, held his hands out and spun in a circle as he spoke. “Tonight, your unprecedented experience will start with these feral beasts. Starved for a week, they would certainly eat anything. Even a fae. Especially a fae. Please join me in welcoming to the pits, for his very first fight, Lere.”
The crowd quieted as a young male entered the pit. He carried only a chain with a heavy spiked ball on the end. He looked to each of the beasts and straightened his back as he swung the mace in slow deliberate circles above his head.
The four males guarding the beasts moved to the exit as one, and the crowd gasped as they watched the beasts begin to circle their prey. I looked from the pit to the crowd and back again. I searched for Muth but was unable to find him. My heart raced as I realized what was about to happen.
The crown allowed the pits to remain open because no fae died. They fought, but never to the death. We bred and built warriors from birth, so fighting was in our blood. It was our right. But this? This was murder for entertainment, and I needed to stop it. I didn’t see how this boy would walk away from this fight.
I stood, leaning forward as the boy began to turn. I grabbed the rail in front of me and squeezed as the dogs moved. The boy swung the mace, forcing them back a few steps, but still, they surrounded him like the target he was.
One of the hounds lunged for him, catching his lean calf and locking its jaw. The boy didn’t make a sound as he swung the mace and it crashed into the hound’s side, spikes impaling his fur. I forced a breath. The hound fell away and didn’t move, only whimpered as the three hounds closed in once more. Again, Lere, took the mace and created a physical boundary between him and the beasts. Half the crowd were on their feet, silent as the boy moved.
“Look out,” someone screamed as the one in the back jumped at him.
But the boy was smart and turned his body with his arms, the mace colliding with the head of the beast.
Two down, two to go.
I blinked, hardly believing what I saw. I wouldn’t have bet a single coin that boy could defeat one hound—but the battle was only half won.
They didn’t give him time to reset his feet from the last hit. He rotated, and a hound growled fiercely from behind, distracting him as the other dove forward. This time, it caught him by the arm that swung the mace. Dark red blood seeped down the boy’s arms, and his poise shattered as he screamed and tried to pull away.
Instead of mercy, the beast from behind clamped his jaws on the boy’s leg. They pulled in opposite directions, attempting to rip him into two.
“Stop,” someone from the crowd yelled.
“Stop this, he will die,” another yelled.
I looked again to where Muth was known to be, but he was absent. I looked at the announcer, who only smiled and watched.
“Stop this at once,” I called, realizing no one could hear me over the screaming crowd and the screaming boy. I leaped, and before I knew what I was doing, pushed my way forward and jumped over the edge of the arena, landing gracefully on my feet. I’d physically regret that later, but for now, I didn’t even think of it.
The crowd went still as I removed my hood.
“It’s the king,” someone shouted.
“Save him. Save the boy.”
I pulled my swords from my back and crossed the arena. “Release,” I yelled at the fae hounds with as much magic as I could possibly force into a single word. One beast whined and let the screaming boy go. “Stay,” I demanded.
I looked to Lere and saw nothing but terror on his face. Of me, or imminent death, I wasn’t sure. Enchanting beasts could be tricky if they were of no intelligence. The opposite could be said of the fae. It was a well-guarded secret that those of stronger will and mind were harder to enchant.
The hound at his leg still growled low as he pulled at the boy, but his eyes were on me as I moved. I swung my swords in each hand and held his gaze as I spoke to the boy. “As soon as he lets go, you are to run to the gate, do you understand?”
