Chapter 1944: Charging a Landslide (Part One)

The Imperial Box went silent the moment Erling entered it. He was carried on a litter by two soldiers from the Clan of the Great Claw, wearing increasingly familiar emerald green and midnight blue harlequin gambesons, who moved dutifully at the direction of the petite, horned squire, Emmie.

Tybal Aleese folded his arms across his chest and pointedly turned away from the fallen ’champion.’ For a moment, Peigi looked like she intended to say something, but the words caught in her throat when her eyes fell on the bandages wrapped around his body.

Dirar, however, saw no reason to hold back his enthusiastic welcome, and while most in the Imperial Box went quiet, Dirar responded with a slow, deliberate clap.

"Well done, Lord Erling," Dirar said loudly, ensuring that everyone in the Imperial Box heard his opinion on the duel. "Courage, compassion, cunning, determination, and skill. So many facets of a legendary lord on display tonight for all to see. I couldn’t be more pleased to have such a man for a neighbor at my northern border."

"Indeed," Nyrielle added, making her opinion of the young lord clear. "Marcel’s reports haven’t done justice to your capabilities, Lord Erling. The empire will rest easier knowing you guard a portion of its border with Keating."

Once Dirar and Nyrielle had broken the ice, applause quickly followed from several others in the Imperial Box, along with a wave of congratulatory statements for a duel well fought or wishes for a speedy recovery.

"Come," Dirar said, clopping over to the young lord on a litter. "Khorijin has been telling us about your duel and your desperate gambit," he explained, placing a hand on Erling’s shoulder. "But she’s been very worried about your condition. There’s a space waiting for you near the window if you’re willing to rest alongside her."

"Is that really appropriate?" Ragna asked hesitantly, looking at the equine archer as she lay on a strange, low bench facing the window. To Ragna’s eyes, Khorijin looked like she wanted nothing more than to greet Erling at the door, but the bandages wrapped around her flanks and her arm made it clear that she needed her rest every bit as much as Erling did.

"Perhaps it would be better," Ragna started, only for Erling to interrupt her.

"It’s fine, Mother," Erling said gently. "This way I can give her my thanks for rescuing me from my own trap," he said, offering a smile that looked more fragile than he likely realized.

"If you don’t mind," Dirar said, glancing briefly at Ragna, taking in her stiff posture and obvious discomfort. "I’ll join you while we watch the remaining challenges. Khorijin is still unfamiliar with your language and your ways."

"It might be best if she had some guidance available," Dirar said. "And her victory merits at least this small measure of support," he said.

While he never used the word ’chaperone,’ it seemed clear to Ragna’s ears what Dirar had in mind when he said ’some guidance,’ and she relaxed visibly at the notion of having someone else on hand who could guide the conversation away from sensitive topics.

As eager as she was for her son to find a love of his own, she hoped that he would look a bit closer to home than their Eldritch neighbors. Or, if he did find love among the Eldritch, that he at least selected someone who hadn’t tried so hard to kill him!

Perhaps, she thought as she looked around the room, perhaps she could arrange a meeting with the young lady who had been attending to Empress Ashlynn’s mother...

Meanwhile, outside the Imperial Box, the second contest between the Aleese and the Southern Steppe was about to get under way. And this one looked to be every bit as perilous as the last one had proven to be, if not more so.

"On my signal, charge."

"The Heavens will bear witness to your death, Aleese," Taghai said as he turned toward the eastern end of the track. "My slaughtered brethren will finally know peace."

Of everything Taghai could have said, this was the one barb for which Reynold had no retort. He’d fought against the raiders of the Southern Steppe when they reached the villages of Aleese. He’d attacked their herds when he encountered their camps while mapping the Southern Steppe.

The war was older than him. It was older than his father. They’d been born into something that started long ago, and no one had ever given them the option to stop fighting.

Taghai might never have raided the villages of Aleese, but he’d lost friends who had. By the same token, no Long Horned warrior had ever slain any of Reynold’s men, but the arrows of Swift Hooved archers had placed him beside too many funeral pyres.

Reynold hadn’t started this war. He’d been born into it. But one way or another, it would end tonight. On that, he and Taghai could agree.

Reynold brought Star Chaser around to the western end of the track, and did his best to let the crisp, cold air of the night cleanse his mind of worries that wouldn’t help him.

On the opposite side of the track, across the frozen ground, Taghai looked to be doing the same thing, turning his enormous body to face the length of the course. Even at that distance, Reynold could hear the sound of his movements. Four hooves the size of dinner plates coming down on frozen earth in a slow, heavy, rhythmic clopping.

Taghai seemed like he was in no hurry to reach the starting line, as if he had all the time in the world. Or perhaps he was simply savoring the moment of Reynold and his father’s impending demise.

Between them lay the wall of ice, shoulder-high on a warhorse, running most of the length of the field. A tilting barrier. He had ridden enough of them before to find it familiar and comforting, even if the luminescent ice was unlike any barrier he’d ever ridden along.

The familiar sights and the motion of Star Chaser beneath him helped to shut out the rest of the distractions. The crowd had gone quiet at the sight of his opponent, and Reynold didn’t blame them. From the outside, it looked like he was riding to his doom against a monster of a man.

But Empress Ashlynn had promised them a fair contest, and Reynold didn’t believe for a moment that she’d been unaware of the sort of champion the Southern Steppe would send against him. Which meant that there had to be a strategy to win.

He just had to figure out what that was in the time it took him to ride a quarter of the way around the track...