Chapter 17 #2
Verna changed out of her travelling clothes into a simple linen dress and shawl. Leaving Marleen to finish preparing their room, she walked down the corridor and knocked on Kalen’s door.
Kalen opened it, wearing dark breeches and tunic.
"Come look at the arena with me," Verna said. "Before the crowds arrive tomorrow."
Kalen reached for her short sword and strapped it on. "I’d be interested to see how big it is inside, and how much room I have to manoeuvre Sera."
They crossed the street together in the cool afternoon, the guards remaining at the inn at Verna's instruction.
A few other people moved around the amphitheatre, officials with ledgers, workmen making last adjustments to the banners, a pair of stable hands leading horses through a side entrance.
Nobody paid them any attention, which was what Verna had hoped for.
Tomorrow there would be no quiet inspection of the ground.
There would be crowds and noise and the emperor watching from his box.
A gate in the eastern wall stood open, attended by a single guard who looked at Verna's crest on her gown and stepped aside. They passed through into the interior corridor that ran below the stands, a vaulted tunnel that smelled of old stone and fresh sawdust.
Verna stopped after they emerged into the arena itself. She had been here before years ago, for a military display that the emperor had staged, but she had forgotten the scale of it.
The arena was vast, a ring of pale sand perhaps three hundred paces across.
It was enclosed by tiered stone seating that rose on all sides to a height of twelve stories.
The seating was divided into sections by low walls, with the covered imperial box prominent on the western side, its canopy of purple already in place, and cushioned seats waiting.
Beside it, on both sides, were the boxes reserved for the competing houses, dressed in their respective colours.
The Eclipsian banner, deep blue and silver, hung from the box assigned to her house, and the sight of it against the pale stone made her feel proud.
Below the seats, at the base of the eastern wall, the competitors' entrance was a wide arch set into the stone, large enough for a horse and rider to pass through easily.
On the opposite side, the western arch mirrored it.
At the far ends of the oval, the target posts for the mounted archery had already been set, their wooden arms extending at varying heights, some wrapped in straw for padding.
The sand had been freshly raked, the colour of pale honey in the evening light.
Kalen walked out onto it without hesitation, moving to the centre of the arena floor and turning slowly in a full circle.
She was looking at the seats, then the archery targets and the western arch, and back to the eastern entrance.
Verna watched her from the edge, recognising the expression.
She was memorising the angles and distances.
After a moment, she walked the full length of the arena, counting steps under her breath. She stopped at the far end, turned to look back at the entrance arch and at the imperial box on the western wall.
Kalen stared at the box for a long moment before she walked back.
"The archery targets are well placed for a right-handed shooter," she said, when she reached Verna. "They'll assume everyone will approach from the same angle, but I won't."
"Is that an advantage?"
"It will confuse the crowd at first," Kalen said. "Then it won't matter because all six will be down." She looked along the length of the arena. "The sand is deep. It'll slow a horse that isn't used to it. Sera has been on packed earth."
Verna frowned. "Is that a problem?"
"I'll bring her through the gate tomorrow morning before the crowds arrive. It’ll let her feel it before she has to perform on it." She looked at Verna. "Can you arrange that?"
"I'll speak to the gate guard in the morning."
Kalen nodded once, and studied the arena a final time. Her eyes moved over the sand, the walls, the height of the imperial box, and the angle of the afternoon sun.
"It's a good arena," she said finally. There was a respect in it, the professional appreciation of a fighter for a well-made space.
Verna looked up at the empty stands, the thousands of seats that would be full tomorrow, and thought about sitting in that blue and silver box watching Kalen ride out onto this sand.
"Come on," she said quietly. "Let's go back for dinner."
The innkeeper had set a private dining room for the Eclipsian party, a low-ceilinged room at the back of the inn, with a table that seated eight and a fire blazing in the hearth.
The guards ate at one end of the table with gusto.
Marleen sat beside Verna and said very little, which was one of the things she valued most about her maid.
Kalen sat across from Verna and worked through the food without comment. The inn kitchen had produced a good meal: roasted chicken with herbs, a vegetable dish heavy with garlic and oil, fresh bread still warm from the oven, and a red wine inferior to Verna's own.
The guards talked about tomorrow's logistics, who would be in the stands, and who would stay with the horses. Verna listened quietly but said little. Kalen said nothing.
When the plates were cleared, Verna said, "We should all sleep. The gates open at eight and we should be there well before then."
The guards pushed back their chairs and left with Marleen.
Kalen eyed Verna across the cleared table. "Thank you,"
"For what?"
"For trusting me with Sera," she said. "And for the bedchamber. Many owners wouldn’t house their slaves in such luxury."
Verna frowned at her. "I don’t look upon you as a slave. You know that. And tomorrow you will be my champion in front of an emperor who wants to break me. My life and my lands are in your hands, Kalen, and I know they are safe."
"I will do my best, My Lady. You have my complete loyalty."
"Have I your heart too?" Verna asked without thought. She knew she should take the words back, gloss over them, but instead she waited for the answer.
Kalen looked at her intently and said quietly, "You have, but neither of us can act on it. You are Lady Verna of Eclipsia, the highest royal except for the emperor and his family in the realm. It is useless to pretend otherwise."
"Sometimes, I wish I was just a simple village maid with no responsibilities," Verna said bitterly.
"The world would be poorer if you were."
"I can only dream," Verna replied tiredly. "You’d better get to bed. The games start at nine and it’ll be a hectic day tomorrow."
Kalen nodded with a "goodnight" and left the room.
Verna sat alone at the table for a few minutes after she had gone, her hands wrapped around the empty cup of wine.
Then she went upstairs, lay down in the bed, and was asleep before the night bell tolled.