Page 12 of Tournament

I patted his hand, soothing him before he could work himself up to self-combustion. His face was so red and splotchy it looked like he might burst into flames, and I really hoped he didn't have fire magic.

"Shh. It's okay," I said firmly. "The queen was watching the match. As was the Prize. Neither one of them is blind. And rest easy; today's challenge is not the only one. There will be plenty of opportunities for your Lord Bach and the rest of Raven team to prove themselves."

The boy nodded, looking embarrassed. "You're right. Of course. And Bach wouldn't like me asking for a favor for him, anyway. He'd say a real man proves himself through his actions."

I smirked at him. "He sounds like a wise man indeed. I didn't see him in the champions' tent, or I would have offered him my congratulations on his efforts thus far, and for the way he comported himself today in the arena."

The boy shook his head. Then he nodded toward the tent. "Lord Bach's as stubborn as they come. He's a good man, and he makes an outstanding leader for his team. But he's an idiot when it comes to taking care of himself. That's why he needs a squire. He came back here and collapsed. I've been trying to work up the courage to go get a royal healer. But he said not to, and…."

I snorted. Males. Always so stubborn and prideful.

"All right then," I said, standing and dusting off my hands on my skirt. "Go tell him I'm coming in to see how bad he's hurt. He'll go to the healer's tent if I say so. I'm sure he wouldn't want word to get back to the royals or the Prize that he was being contrary."

The boy leaped into action, zipping into the tent and back out in record time. "He says he'll be but a moment, miss. And I'm to go get us refreshments."

I watched the lanky squire trip over his own feet as he sped away into the throng of people, headed toward the food tent.

"Precocious brat, isn't he?" a deep, rueful voice commented. "But I wouldn't trade him for all the boring, well-trained kids in the world."

I turned to find the runner-up from the sword competition standing in the doorway of his tent. He had one arm wrapped around his ribs, but he stood on his own, not looking too much the worse for wear. I already knew what to expect—after all, I had been very up close and personal with the man already. But he was stunning, even so. His chiseled features were marred by a few fresh cuts and bruises from the day's exertions, but that didn't distract from the perfection of his marble-like gray skin, dark mahogany hair, and piercing blue eyes.

"I apologize, mistress," he said, sketching a short, stiff bow, then tucking a loose strand of shoulder-length hair behind one of his unique, fin-like ears. He addressed me as if we had never met, even though the queen’s spell wouldn’t prevent him from recalling his tumble in the hay with Rina from the inn. "My name is Bach of Raven team. Jasper said you wished to speak with me?"

Bach. Not Ward. I had already seen the files on him, compiled by someone in the royal secretary's office. Lord Bach Seaward, leader of Raven team. Eldest of a passel of children who hailed from a noble highborn family in the territory of Zora, at the southernmost tip of the continent.

I nodded and gestured for him to join me on the straw bale. "Please, sit. I only wanted to speak to your squire about what happened today. But he said you hadn't seen a healer yet."

He slowly sank down beside me with more grace than such a big man should possess, especially when he was injured. "I appreciate your concern," he said politely. "And that of your employer. But one of my teammates has healing magic. He'll see to me when he returns. It's not the first time I've cracked a few ribs." He gave me a surprisingly boyish smile and a wry laugh. "My sword teacher would tell me this is what I get for moving too slow."

I scoffed, gently pushing his hand away from his ribs so I could examine his torso with my own weak healing magic, ghosting my hand over the fabric of his shirt. "Your teacher sounds like an ass," I informed him. "I'd say it's more like a badge of honor for saving a sweet boy from a senseless accident caused by someone else’s blatant disregard for others."

He huffed. "Mmm. I think the champion of the day would say the boy should watch where he's going, mistress."

I sat back and stopped fondling the man. My magic was mostly the home and hearth magic of my brownie ancestors on my dad's side, with just a little boost from my highborn mother. I could diagnose injuries and heal little things like minor burns or cuts and scrapes. Then kinds of things that you'd see when caring for a household. But major healing was beyond me. "You're right, that rib's cracked," I informed him. "I did what healing I could. It should help the pain, but I can't fix it. Get it seen to by a real healer as soon as you can." I narrowed my eyes at him. "And I'll tell you what my employer and the Prize would say. They would remind the winner of the sword competition that we're all here for a friendly game. Not to watch a grown man who should know better try to murder a child and a fellow competitor just for the sake of winning. There was nothing sporting or honorable about that display." Except, perhaps, the way Bach had stepped in front of the other man's sword to save his young squire.

He sighed and looked off into the distance. "Aye, well, I won't argue with you about that," he said evenly. "But what's done is done. All we can do is hope Raven team makes a better showing tomorrow."

I studied his profile. It seemed the raven totem was well chosen in this case. Besides being a symbol for deep magic, Raven also represented wisdom, intuition, and fearlessness. Bach certainly didn't seem like one to make drama or dwell on things. He would prefer to quietly handle things on his own, which I appreciated. But still. "That boy could have gotten hurt. Either of you could have been killed. Promise me something, champion?"

He met my eyes with a curious look. "Yes?"

"If you catch wind of anyone else needlessly endangering others during this competition, I want to know about it."

I gave him a level stare. He nodded slowly. "Of course, miss. Though…I have to be honest, I'm more inclined to sort it out myself before I go telling tales."

I nodded. "I understand." Standing, I held out my hand, gripping his strong fingers as we shook. "It was a pleasure to formally meet you, Lord Bach," I told him honestly, stifling a shiver at the warmth of his big hand in mine. His magic felt like crisp ocean air and rocky heights, and I wanted so badly to relive the time we had spent together.

But I had a duty to my people. And the queen would murder me if I ruined her game by telling him all my secrets. "I wish you and your team the best of luck in the upcoming challenge."

He smiled and levered himself up to stand looking down at me with those pretty, deep blue eyes. "The pleasure is all mine, mistress," he said easily. "Best be wary of the revelers on your way home," he added, nodding to the milling crowds. "Most are well into their cups by now, and still high on combat and more than willing to prove their manly prowess, if you take my meaning."

I gestured at my guards. "Never fear. The queen takes care of her people." I hoped he heard the promise in my words. That although a certain amount of male posturing and nonsense was to be expected during this competition, there was no cause to endanger the men who were willing to go to such lengths for…my employer. And that their safety was more important to her than the stupid competition.

He bowed again as Jasper came jogging back up to us. The young squire chattered so fast I could barely keep up, telling us about all the food and dancing as he handed me a wrapped cinnamon-and-honey roll and a cup of spiced cider.

I laughed as I followed the guards from the grounds, licking sticky honey icing from my fingertips. The sword tournament had reminded me that people could be assholes sometimes. But maybe all hope wasn't lost, as long as there were still Jaspers in this world.

And kind blue-eyed warriors who knew that honor was more important than winning.

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