Page 19 of The Lost Nation

“Very well.” I drawled. I sat once more, smoothing down the skirts of my dress.

Harrow shot me an exasperated look, but continued.“Her majesty has decreed that you will first endure a trial of strength. The last five men standing will move on to the next round. You will fight in pairs until the first blood, or you yield. There will benofights to the death.”

The crowd deflated at that, and I scoffed. If I’d let them all kill each other over me, they’d call me the ‘blood queen’ or some other such nonsense. Being a queen was ridiculous on the best of days. I didn't need any ridiculous nicknames.

While Harrow continued to bellow out the rules in a bored tone, my eyes glanced beyond the town to the glimmering waters of the bay. I felt the call of the ocean rise in my blood, and the tips of my fingers felt wet. I pushed the feeling down viciously, andwiped my hands on my dress.

“Pair off!” Harrow yelled. The men shoved and fought, all angling for an advantageous matchup.

“GO!”

It was bedlam as the men attacked each other. The sound of yells and steel clashing created a raucous cacophony, and combined with the jeers of the crowd I felt slightly ill. Men who were injured tried to drag themselves out of the ring, while the winners quickly looked around to ambush the next unsuspecting contestant. Some men used their superior size and strength, sending others crashing to the ground. A few men dropped their swords and ran, not seeing a way to defeat someone twice their size. It took only fifteen for five men to be left standing.

Harrow raised a hand.“Halt!”

Relatives and friends dragged the injured from the ring, and the five men stood proudly before me. Most were massive and muscled, though there were two of smaller stature. One of them wore a heavy hood despite the heat of the day. I waved a hand at Harrow to continue.

“Your next task is one of intelligence. Answer the following riddle:

'Once there was a demon who kidnapped a woman and turned her into a flower, which he put in his garden. The demon changed the woman back every night into a woman, so she could read to him. In the morning, he would return her to the garden. A nearby prince had heard this story, and rode to the demon’s home determined to rescue the maiden. He snuck into the garden, but there were one thousand flowers that looked exactly the same. The prince knew immediately which one was the maiden, and plucked her. The spell was broken, and the prince rode off with the maiden in his arms.'"

Harrow cleared his throat. “You have five minutes to ponder the answer.”

The crowd talked in hushed whispers, trying to solve the quandary among themselves. I scanned the five men before me, noting that a few of them looked completely gobsmacked. One was lost in thought, and one man was pacing relentlessly. The one smaller-statured man simply stood as still as a statue, his hood still firmly in place. The other two were taking suggestions from the crowd.

“Good sir, do you already have the answer?” I called out, my lips curling into a smile. The dark hooded figure nodded. Intriguing.

“Your time is up. Step forward to give me your answers.” Harrow demanded.

The men lined up in front of the platform, and I noticed the smaller man lingered in the back.

“How did the prince know what flower was the maiden?”Harrow asked the first man in line. He stoodstood nervously, his hands nearly shredding the worn hat he held in his hands.Daggers covered every inch of him. “She...she called out to him.”

“Incorrect.” Harrow deadpanned.

The crowd jeered, and the man shuffled off. The next contestant towered over the other men, easily well over six feet. He put a hand on the back of his head and simply walked away, giving up without even trying. The crowd booed, unsatisfied.

The third man was shorter, but wide like an ox with a large battle ax strapped to his back. “The answer is simple...he guessed!” The man boasted jovially.

A shadow of a smile crossed Harrow’s face, but he shook his head. “Incorrect.”

The man shrugged his shoulders, and the crowd laughed good-naturedly with him. It had been a good try. I watched the man walk away, and made a note of him. His answer had been quite clever, and clearly he had a decent sense of humor. I nodded to Harrow, who raised his hand. The man's blonde hair flashed in the sun.

“Ulf, stay. The queen wishes to give you another chance should the others fail.”

Ulf flashed me a grin, and leaned against the fence. The spectators nearest him patted his shoulders and back, congratulating him for his wit. I turned my attention to the next man.

Contestant four was a dark-haired man that reminded me of the draken king—Benedict. I leaned forward in interest, my eyes raking over his muscled frame as he began to speak. “Every night the maiden was forced to attend to the demon, and returned in the morning. Therefore, the prince knew which flower was her because she was the only one without dew upon her petals.”

Silence reigned in the crowd, and I sat up straight on my throne.

“Correct,” Harrow confirmed, one eyebrow arching in interest.

“Have I won then?” The man asked boldly. Harrow looked at me, and I gestured for the man to step closer. What is your name?” I called out.

Those bright, blue eyes found mine and lingered. “Erik, my queen.”

I grinned at him. “Erik, I declare you the winner of this contest.”

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