Chapter 8 #2
I nodded to let him know I understood, and he pushed me hard into the raging river. I went under. Iron-rich water filled my mouth as the current dragged me away.
I gasped for air as the memory faded, and the painful stab of my ribs pulled the arena into sharp focus.
Switching off the pain and exhaustion, I sat up and tore off my breastplate. The mace’s spikes weren’t only embedded in the steel but in my chain mail as well. If anyone but Cillian had made this armour, I would be dead.
I got up with a grunt of pain and stood on my breastplate with both feet. I pulled on the mace, but it didn’t budge.
I ducked as the knife from Ugly Giant’s face flew towards me.
He missed me and started coming for me with his bare hands.
I pulled on the mace desperately, but it didn’t budge.
I yelled and prayed to the gods, pulling with all the strength I had left.
I cried out with relief when it finally came free.
Ignoring the pain as my ribcage flared, I lifted the mace above my head and swung it, hitting him square in the head. He dropped like a stone.
Unfortunately, the blow didn’t kill him. He sat up, his head a mangled mess. I scrambled for the discarded knife at my feet and knelt at his side, prepared to shove it straight into his eyeball. He froze in a half-seated position.
‘Yield.’ My tone was deadly.
He nodded his bloody head.
‘Say it!’ I screamed. Okay, maybe I was losing my sanity a bit, but it had been a long day, and I disliked this creature immensely.
‘I yield!’ he snarled in my face, and the crowd roared.
Feeling relieved it was over, I dropped the knife and stumbled away.
I looked down at myself and saw that the shirt I had under my armour had ripped at some point. It dangled from my shoulder, revealing more than was appropriate. I probably should have cared, but I couldn’t muster the energy.
I searched the crowd to see if Cillian had stayed to the end. When I finally found him, my heart rate calmed, and my shoulders relaxed. He smiled at me, but then his expression changed to horror as his gaze moved over my shoulder.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I circled around to see Ugly Giant standing once more. One of his arms was still hanging uselessly by his side, but his other hand was holding the mace.
Movement caught my eye as Torgrin jumped down from the balcony and into the arena. I was stunned by how perfectly he landed on one knee.
He pulled out his sword as he stood and strode towards us with a deadly expression. I started walking backwards, keeping my eye on the mace. The ugly giant wore a manic grin as he began swinging the bloodied weapon.
I ducked as it came flying at me. He had missed, but the mace swung back to cut the side of my face, and I hissed in pain.
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ I said, holding a hand to my bleeding cheek. My eyes went to Torgrin, who was now standing directly behind his soldier.
Ugly Giant spun around to see what I was looking at. The man didn’t have time to take a final breath. Torgrin’s sword cut through the air, and the surprised man’s head went flying.
Ugly Giant’s startled expression remained as his head rolled across the dirt towards me.
This is what Torgrin meant when he warned he would deal with anyone who did not fight honourably.
He stopped to wipe his sword clean on the headless corpse’s tunic before sheathing it.
‘You killed him,’ I whispered in surprise.
‘He was dead the moment he threatened to come into your room with his sword,’ he growled.
My body shivered uncontrollably as we walked side by side out of the arena.
The walk back to the barracks courtyard was hazy.
Torgrin took off his cloak as we passed through the door, and with the crowd now behind us, he wrapped its warmth around me.
I let him pull me close, and then he began barking commands.
Soon I had something pressed to my lips, and I drank.
I sputtered and choked as the fiery liquid ran down my throat, burning a hole in my gut.
‘Drink more,’ he commanded, pressing more of the horrible liquid to my mouth. I took another swallow; the taste made my eyes water. I pushed it away again, which he allowed this time.
The curly-haired healer came up and pressed a cloth to my bleeding cheek. My head was feeling much clearer already, and my trembling had stopped.
I kept taking furtive glances at Torgrin’s face. He had just admitted that he would have killed his soldier for threatening me. Does he remember the girl he pushed in the river?
Atlas appeared in front of us. ‘They’re waiting for her.’
‘She needs more time,’ Torgrin said, pulling me tighter into his side.
His behaviour was something I would usually dislike, and yet I didn’t push him away.
‘So glad you didn’t die out there.’ Atlas’s friendly smile added to the warmth of the spirits in my belly. ‘Now you can teach me that move you did when you flipped Boric and broke his arm!’
‘Ugly Giant’s name is Boric? Or was, I suppose.’ I wanted to laugh, but I hiccupped instead.
The healer returned with water and a clean cloth.
I felt like a helpless child standing there while she wiped my face clean.
She put a soothing cream on my grazed cheek, then gestured for Torgrin to let me go so she could do something with my hair.
I shivered at the loss of Torgrin’s warmth against my side.
She tsked when she found she couldn’t get the comb through my tangled locks. She pulled some hairpins from her pocket, but I was too tall for her to put up my hair, so I tried to accommodate her by crouching down. I gasped at the sudden stab of pain in my side.
Torgrin gestured for her to give him the pins she was holding. ‘Turn around,’ he ordered me.
He pulled my hair away from my face and gathered and twisted the strands, pinning them to the back of my head. His hands were gentle but efficient. I turned back around, and Atlas and Torgrin assessed my condition.
‘Well, I think that is all we can do for now.’ Atlas shrugged.
I raised a brow at him, and he gave me a boyish grin.
‘You won.’ Torgrin sounded proud.
‘You saved me.’ Again.
He looked as though he was going to reach for me, but then seemed to think better of it.
They left me to stand unaccompanied, still wearing Torgrin’s red cape. I could never have imagined a scenario in which I would willingly wear a captain’s cape. Yet, here I was.
When the door to the arena opened, I walked through with my head raised high despite my fatigue. Lord Warwick stood in the middle of the arena, with Torgrin now on his right and Atlas on his left.
The crowd chanted, ‘Swordmaker! Swordmaker! Swordmaker!’ The lords and ladies on the balconies were picking the blue flowers and tossing them down to me.
They clung to my hair and gathered at my feet.
I focused on putting one foot in front of the other until I was standing directly before Lord Warwick.
Up close, I could see the true finery of his clothing. He had dark hair with some grey at the temples and a few grey hairs in his clipped beard. His face was smooth apart from the lines around his eyes, which suggested he smiled frequently. There was sadness behind his eyes too.
He was holding the sword I had made for him at his side. I could tell that Torgrin and Atlas weren’t just there for the ceremony – they were on alert protecting their lord, eyes scanning the crowd.
‘What is your name, Swordmaker?’
‘Caris Ironside, my lord.’ Was that what I should call him? My lord? This was my first time addressing someone from nobility.
‘Please kneel, Caris Ironside.’
I felt my ribs protest as I lowered myself to kneel before Lord Warwick. He lifted his blade and placed the flat on top of my bent head.
‘Do you swear that you will protect your lord and your lord’s children with your life? That you will act with honour while serving me?’
I took in his words, recogni sing what I was swearing to. I hadn’t thought through how this was going to work. My focus had only been to find a way into the inner sanctum of this fortress.
Lord Warwick had moved his family to a remote location and hired a whole militia to ensure their safety.
He was desperate to protect them. Protecting a good man and his children from danger would be something I would do without an oath.
Is he a good man, though? He had shown consideration for my wellbeing when Torgrin removed my helmet.
He could have had me thrown in a dungeon just for being a woman daring to compete in a tournament.
The city had flourished since his presence in Murus, and from what I’d seen, Torgrin and Atlas were loyal to Lord Warwick.
Was that enough? I hadn’t seen either captain for a decade, I barely knew them, yet my instincts told me they were good men.
I couldn’t kneel here for much longer; the pain in my ribs was making me nauseous.
‘I swear on my life that I will protect and serve you and your children honourably, my lord.’
‘Then rise and take your applause as the winner of Murus’s first Tournament of Honour.’
I rose, and the crowd erupted into cheers.
Lord Warwick smiled as he held the sword I had forged between his outstretched hands.
‘This truly is the most beautiful sword I have ever seen, Caris Ironside. I will pass it on to my son one day.’
I had woven an intricate leafy vine around the handle, and in the middle was the Warwick oak tree. Along the blade, I had engraved the entire landscape of Murus with the mountains and the fortress overlooking the city below.
‘You are a woman of many talents it seems. I look forward to knowing you better.’
Atlas and Torgrin were watching me. Were they disappointed that one of their own didn’t win? Atlas gave me a wink.
I didn’t think so.
As I left the arena, I searched for Cillian, but he was lost among the exiting crowd.