Chapter 1922: Planting a Barb

"Where is my foe? Where is Reynold Aleese?"

Taghai’s demand rolled over the Imperial Box like a millstone, crushing the optimistic mood that had formed in the wake of Erling and Khorijin’s conversation and grinding it to dust.

For a moment, it had seemed like the Aleese and Southern Steppe would meet as rivals rather than as sworn enemies. Taghai’s statement that he had come to claim heads stripped the civilized veneer away from the contest and exposed the seething animosity beneath it.

"He’s standing out in the cold," Wes Iriso said, glaring at the mountain of a man who threatened his friend. "Waiting for someone to stop blocking the door."

"Wes!" Sorcha hissed, her eyes going wide as she watched Taghai’s face heat while he directed his scowl toward her husband. "What are you doing?"

"What I can," Wes said, locking eyes with Taghai and refusing to look away as the Long Horned warrior took two steps forward. Wes, however, refused to back down.

"You came to claim heads, didn’t you?" Wes said, drawing his thumb across his own neck. "If you’re too impatient to wait for Reynold to arrive, I’ll face you myself. Take off your armor, I’ll send for my sword, and we can settle this like men. And when I’ve defeated you, you can come work in the quarries of Iriso. I’ll have you fitted for the finest cart to haul stone, because that’s all that unrestrained strength is good for."

It took a moment for Rastlan to translate Wes’s words for the hulking warrior, but the instant he did, Taghai’s hands balled up into fists and his nostrils flared wide. Before Taghai took another step, however, Dirar raised his hand.

"Save it for the field, Taghai," Dirar said mildly. "I promised that you’d have your chance against the Aleese. This man is not your opponent tonight, and in the future, you may come to depend on him as your ally."

"I have no use for weak allies who only know how to boast," Taghai snarled. "I wouldn’t trust him to defend me from a Dark Dweller at high sun. This is a mistake, Highest One," he said, turning to frown at Dirar. "We should..."

"We should honor the word I gave," Dirar said in a tone sharp enough to draw blood. "Or are you intent on proving Lord Iriso correct? Come," he said, walking calmly toward the center of the Imperial Box where Ashlynn and Nyrielle waited for him.

Wes’s heart hammered in his chest, but just as he’d done when standing on the field at tournaments, he kept his spine as straight as his sword and focused on his breathing. Deep, slow breaths, in through his nose and out past his lips, just as his father had taught him all those years ago, until his heart was calm enough to fight for real.

Whether he fought with swords or with words, the discipline was the same, and he clung to it now. He’d won a small victory, but collapsing in relief, no matter how much he wanted to, would only destroy his prize.

"That was bold," Erling said as he approached his friend. "If he’d struck you..."

"He couldn’t," Wes said, nodding in the direction of General Thane and the empresses. "If Dirar hadn’t stopped him, someone else would have," he said, projecting confidence in his words far beyond what he felt. "I think Empress Ashlynn would have let me face him in a duel with a sword in my hand, but she wouldn’t stand for him hurting an unarmed man in her presence."

"Still, the risk you took," Erling said, shaking his head. "I hope Reynold appreciates it."

"So long as he can make use of it, it’s worth it," Wes said.

"Worth what?" Sorcha asked, frowning at her husband. "You told me that you were done fighting duels now that our son was born," she added, poking him in the chest.

"So just what was all of this foolishness supposed to accomplish besides putting you in danger?" Sorcha asked while tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. "Padean needs his father, and I need you, and if you go off fighting... fighting men like him," she said, pointing across the imperial box at the hulking figure of Taghai. "If he hurt you or, or..."

"Hush," Wes said gently, gathering his fuming wife into his arms and giving her a gentle hug. "I’m fine, and I’m safe," he said while stroking her hair.

"I know you don’t like it when I put myself in harm’s way," Wes said, lowering his voice enough that few could overhear what he said. "But Reynold needs every advantage he can get against an opponent like that. The one I just won for him is small, but if he can use it, and if it helps, then it was worth it."

"What advantage?" Sorcha said in genuine confusion. "All you’ve done is make him mad. If anything, he’ll just take it out on Lord Reynold."

"That’s what I’m counting on," Wes said. "A knight in armor, fighting a duel against another knight, is all but invulnerable. It takes great skill and several successive blows before a man’s life is in danger. You saw how long it took Empress Ashlynn to break past Lord Owain’s defenses and deliver a lethal blow," he reminded her.

"What does that have to do with this?" Sorcha asked, still not following her husband’s way of thinking. She was calmer now that the threat had passed, but she was still confused.

"The knight who loses isn’t always the one who had the worst technique," Wes said. "It’s the one who made the first mistake. Angry people make mistakes, and no armor can protect your mind or your heart. If I’ve embarrassed Taghai a bit and if I’ve planted a barb that Reynold can press on, he might just be able to anger his opponent enough that Taghai makes a mistake that Reynold can exploit."

"That’s a lot of ’ifs,’ Wes," Erling said. "And the enmity you formed tonight will last long after tonight’s duel ends. You didn’t need to go so far."

"I promised that I’d fight with you and Reynold," Wes said, shaking his head. "I won’t break that promise just because I wasn’t called to be a champion tonight. You two are risking far more than I am. This is the least I can do."

"But if I need to offer Taghai an apology, I doubt a single cask of wine is going to be enough," Wes added, giving Erling a friendly poke. "So when the time comes, I may turn to you for a few of your best. You won’t refuse a friend in need, will you?"

"Never," Erling said with a warm chuckle that let much of the tension out of his shoulders. "I can even fill my finest cart for you so Taghai can take some home if you want," he teased.

"Don’t, don’t make it any worse," Wes said, glancing nervously over his shoulder to see if the Long Horned warrior had overheard. Thankfully, it seemed like he hadn’t. "But you understand, don’t you, Sorcha?" Wes asked, turning back to his wife.

"I understand," Sorcha said, pulling back from her husband and blotting her eyes with a handkerchief. "But next time you’re going to do something like this, warn me first. And explain it to me. And... And if I tell you not to, then..."

"I know," Wes said as he held her hand and squeezed it tight.

She’d been so happy when he said that his days of fighting in tournaments had come to an end because his barony and his family needed him too much to take the risks. Even though he said a knight in armor was all but invulnerable, men like Sir Gavin still suffered debilitating wounds often enough that Sorcha’s heart filled with worry every time he left to compete.

Seeing the Eldritch up close, Sorcha had been immensely grateful that Empress Ashlynn found a way to resolve the conflicts between their people without her husband having to fight or ride to war, and Wes knew that. He knew she hoped that he’d never have to take up his sword again. But some things...

Some things he still had to do, and the day he refused an opportunity to help his friends because he was afraid to take the risk was the day he could no longer call himself a knight or a man. More importantly, the day he let fear stop him from taking a stand was the day his wife and child could no longer rely on him to keep them safe, and he refused to let that day come to pass.

While Wes reassured Sorcha, the attention that had gathered on them turned back toward the doors as more and more distinguished guests filed in, including Ladies Adala and Charlotte, though they weren’t accompanied by either of their families.

And then, several minutes later, as though they wanted to ensure that they were the last to arrive, the Aleese family made their entrance...