CHAPTER FIFTEEN
I shake as I return to Ironhold with the others. We go through the familiar ritual of honoring the fallenand heading to the practice rooms to work on whatever we've learned from our bouts.
I go to one with Alaric and try to keep the trembling out of my hands as I help him dissect his fight from the day. He killed his opponent swiftly, it seems, using illusion to distract him and then closing the distance.
“It sounds like you did well,” I say, not wanting to think about the ease with which he has killed someone.
“But it wasn't perfect,” Alaric says. “I left an opening as I went in and-”
“The emperor called me to see him after my bout,” I blurt out. I don't want to talk about the details of Alaric’s fight, about whatever small mistake he thinks he's made. Not after the terror of what happened to me.
“That's normal, isn't it?” Alaric says, but he sounds uncertain. He can obviously hear the fear in my voice. “What happened?”
I touch my shoulder. I have stitched the wound closed. “The emperor did this.”
A flash of anger crosses Alaric's face, followed by fear that's obviously for me. “What did you do to anger him that much?”
“Why do you assume that I've angered him?” I counter. “Can't he just be that unpredictable and dangerous?”
Alaric shakes his head. “No, because if he is like that then…”
He tails off, butI think I understand. If the emperor is dangerous and unpredictable, if he acts according to his own whimsrather than according to any sense of justice, or the law, then he is incredibly dangerous to everyone. There is nothing that Alaric or anyone else can do to protect me from him, and he would be a danger to the whole city.
In other words, he would be exactly the monster that I'm starting to believe him to be. But Alaric doesn't want to believe that about the emperor, not yet. Whatever else he is, Alaric is a noble of Aetheria.
“Come on, we need to focus on the sparring,” Alaric says. He lifts his weapons, and I move around with him, knowing that he's right even though I’m not sure what I should be working on to prepare for the next fights. My third fight is marked down as a doubles bout, which means I'll be working with someone else, fighting alongside them. I have bad memories of such fights. In both of the ones I've fought in so far, someone I have considered to be a friend has died.
Who will I be fighting alongside tomorrow? Will it be Alaric? Will I be fighting opposite him instead? I will be sleeping in his arms tonight, and possibly we will fall on each other even if we merely intend the arrangement to be one that keeps me safe from Callus. The prospect of danger drives people to all kinds of things, and it is hard to hold back everything I feel for Alaric, even as he tries to push me away to spare us both the pain that will come from separation if, when , he leaves.
I am trapped because I must hope for him to leave. The alternative is him failing, and possibly dying. I cannot wish for that.
He and I trade blows back and forth, attacking each other with speed and precision, but also holding back slightly. It is one thing to prepare for the morning, quite another to risk injuring one another. I'm not sure we should be doing this at all, but if Alaric is determined to train them I must be here with him. I cannot just wander off alone, thanks to the threat of the assassin lurking within the fortress.
But the truth is that my thoughts aren't here. They are back in Seatide, thinking about the people being attacked, taken,killed. Lady Elara seems to have information about it, but the messages must be travellingby magic or carried by birds she and the other beast whisperers control, becauseit is too far away to get to quickly.
Why are bandits attacking my village? Why are they continuing to do it? That doesn't sound like any bandits I've heard of. Small groups of them wouldpick one of the roads to sit on and target travelers, perhaps. A large group might raid a village, killing and kidnapping. But they wouldn't attack again and again, picking off individualsand then leaving them dead for people to find. I don't understand it. Something else is going on here.
Even as I think it, a wooden sword slams into my bruised ribs, making me cry out in pain.
“Stop getting so distracted!” Alaric says. “You need to focus, Lyra.”
“How am I meant to focus when my village is being attacked?” I demand.
“You can't think about that. I've told you, none of that matters. There is only victory and defeat in the colosseum.”
“And I've told you that I'm not capable of being that cold, even if you are. Even if you could cheerfully slit my throat if the emperor demanded it,” I say.
Alaric looks shocked, and it's the first real emotion I've seen on his face since we got back.
“Do you really think that of me?” he demands. “I’m trying to help you here!”
Is this his idea of helping? Whacking me in my injured ribs? Refusing to understand just how hurt I must bethat someone is targeting my village?
“You want me to focus on fighting you?” I say. I attack then, with the kind of fury I would normally reserve for the arena, the wooden staff that represents my spearsinging through the air as I strike atAlaric again and again. He defends and moves, but one of the blows gets through, hard enough to double him over.
“What are you doing now?” he asks. “You think that lashing out in anger is the solution here, Lyra? You know we can't go that hard when there's a fight in the morning.”
“Make up your mind what you want, Alaric,” I snap at him. I don't just mean how hard we should be sparring. Everything with him seems tangled up. “I thought you wanted me to focus on fighting you. And I thought you wanted me.”
“What?” Alaric says, looking confused. “Lyra, of course I want you.”
“Really?Because you've been pushing me away enough in the last couple of weeks.” I can't keep the anger out of my voice.
“That’s so you're not hurt when I leave,” Alaric says. “It's not fair on you to-”
“It's not fair on me to treat me like this,” I snap back.
“And now I'm distracting you,” Alaric says. “I knew this would happen. That if we got too tangled up, it would get in the way of your training.”
“Don't pretend this is just about me and what's good for me,” I retort. That’s one part that hurts more than the rest, him pretending that it’s all about me, when he’s doing this, pushing me away, for his own good.
Alaric takes hold of me by the shoulders. He kisses me fiercely, but passion is not enough to make up forthe care that's missingbetween us right now. “All of this is. You still aren't focused enough on the right things.”
“There's more to life than just the colosseum. It isn't the only thing that matters. The state of the empire does too. The games the nobles are playing. The fact that someone sent an assassin after me. The fact my village is being attacked. You must know that there are forces building against the emperor.”
“You can't do anything about those things,” Alaric says. “And if you concentrate on them, then you'll be distracted in the arena.”
“That's a chance I'm willing to take rather than just being-”
“Just being what?” Alaric asks.
I could hold back. I should hold back. But I don't.
“Just being the best killer I can be.” I turn and walk away from him. It doesn't matter to me that Callus is out there somewhere right now. I can't be around Alaric. Tears sting my eyes. Why does everything have to be so difficult between us? I want there to be something more than coldness and calculation in Alaric. I get glimpses of it now and again but glimpses aren't enough. I don't even know if he really cares about meor if I'm just someone he's spending time with while he's here. Someone he will cast aside the moment he has left.
I have enough self preservation to know I also can't be alone in my room. That would just be an invitation for Callus to kill me in my sleep. So instead when I head back to the barracks I go to a different room.
“Lyra?” Rowan says as he opens the door.
“Can I stay here tonight?” I ask.
“What about Alaric?”
I shake my head, not answering. Rowan lets me inside. I curl up next to him, not wanting to talk. We both need sleep butthat's hard when I can feel his presence next to me and there's a part of me that wants to turn towards him and just kiss him. Surely Rowan would be easier than Alaric? Surely, things can be better with him?
I can feel how easy that would be, but my pain is a bad reason to do it. It wouldn't be fair to Rowan. So I don't turn to him, and he doesn't turn me towards him, doesn't initiate anything. If he did, I'm sure I would melt into his arms, but instead, he just holds me through what proves to be a very frustrating night indeed.