Chapter Five
“This is your last warning!” I told them.
They began to throw themselves against my door. It took them a bit but they finally managed to kick it down.
The handsome man entered the room first with his sword drawn. I shouldn’t have been surprised.
“Why are you all so eager to meet your own end?” I asked. “Did you have difficult childhoods?”
He ignored my taunt. “I have won sword-fighting competitions in three different tournaments. What makes you think you’ll survive?”
“Experience,” I said with a smile.
That seemed to aggravate him and he rushed forward to swing his sword at me. I wondered if he realized that fighting in an outdoor tournament was very different than fighting in close quarters like these.
Given how wide his swing was, I supposed not.
I took the opening he created and kicked him square in the chest, sending him backward into his friends, and they all went sprawling. This seemed to shake some sense into the other four and they scrambled to their feet and went running.
The “master swordsman” did not leave.
“You really should go,” I told him. It would have been very nice if, just for once, a man did not behave exactly the way I expected him to.
He should leave, but I knew he wouldn’t.
“I’ll go when you’re dead.”
I was right again. “When I die, it won’t be because of someone as pathetic as you.”
This enraged him, and he began to tell me all the vile things he planned on doing to me once I was subdued. If he had wanted to anger me, he had succeeded. I loathed men like this, who used their strength and ability to rape and harm women. He deserved everything that was about to happen.
He came at me again and I reached out with my sword to stop his swing. He tried to feint left, but I was there and punched him hard in the jaw, making him unsteady on his feet.
“Who did you fight at these tournaments that you claim to have won? Bunnies? Sheep? Small children?”
The man roared with anger and rushed at me. He was so focused on harming me that he didn’t realize he’d run straight into my sword. His eyes went wide with shock and he just stared at the point where my sword had entered his gut.
I pulled my sword free and he collapsed to the ground.
I really hated inns.
The next morning I paid the innkeeper extra money for the dead body in my room.
I was about to explain, but he interrupted me. “Everyone saw and heard what happened. He should have known to leave you alone. You’re Thracian.”
At least someone here had common sense. “I’m sorry about the mess.”
He waved his hand. “Happens all the time.”
“Do you know where I can find a map of the Wastelands? I’m heading to Sagaris for the tournament.”
“Got some that I sell.”
I gave him another coin and he handed me a map. He showed me where Sagaris was and what direction I should head out. He even circled waystations and the city for me with a piece of lead.
Then he said, “Those other men fled last night.”
I understood what he was telling me. If those men were still planning on going to Sagaris, I would be on the same path as them.
“I’m good at taking care of myself,” I said.
He nodded.
I retrieved my horse from the stable, and we trudged through the mud to reach the edge of the Wastelands.
An ocean of sand as far as the eye could see.
It had poured rain last night but the sand looked completely dry.
People got lost in this desert. I’d heard tales of mirages and creatures so hideous that travelers died from fright.
Sandstorms that took your sight, people going mad from too much sun exposure and wandering until they died.
Sand that would suck you into the earth, suffocating you.
Tormented shades who shrieked and howled all night.
It was a place of chaos and destruction and death.
I urged my horse forward. She hesitated slightly, as if she were as wary as I was, but she followed my command and began to walk.
In addition to whatever monsters and trick sand might be out there, I had to pay attention and not let my mind wander because there might be four men lying in wait for me. I needed to keep my guard up.
Which made the trip mind-numbingly boring.
I traveled, stopped at a waystation so I could feed and water my horse, and then continued on.
Over and over. With a landscape that was sometimes broken up by piles of giant rocks and thorny brush.
I listened and scanned the area but didn’t see or hear any potential attackers.
As night fell I went off the path and made camp behind some rocks so that I wasn’t visible.
I didn’t sleep. How could I? But it would have been foolish to keep traveling because predators tended to hunt at night.
It didn’t surprise me that the men at the inn had lied to me.
Sagaris was farther than a single day’s travel.
As soon as the sun rose, I set out again, not knowing how far I still had to go. Hours passed by and I realized that the path was leading to the edge of a cliff. I trotted over to the cliff’s edge and gasped.
How could this be?
The cliffs created a bowl, and at the bottom of it was a beautiful city set in the midst of a green paradise.
Paths surrounded the valley, running up through the cliffs and looking like the spokes of a wheel.
I saw other travelers on those paths, descending down to the city.
No wonder I’d never heard of Sagaris. Even if I told people about this, they wouldn’t believe me.
I returned to the closest path and turned my horse sideways so that we could descend safely. It was steep but manageable. Half an hour later I reached the wall surrounding the city, where a guard waited for me.
“What is it you want?” he asked.
“I have come to compete in the tournament.”
His face lit up with surprise, but he told me to seek out Gamemaster Antioch’s tent to check in. He gave me directions, and ten minutes later, I was dismounting and handing my horse to a waiting stable hand.
A vast tent had been set up and people milled around inside, talking and laughing. I asked a man standing near the doorway where I should go to register. He pointed at a row of tables.
“The registrars are over there. You will recognize them by the golden pins they wear on their tunics.”
I thanked him and went over to the tables. I asked the man seated in front of me, “Is this where I check in?”
The man had his face pointed down at the papyrus in front of him.
“The buy-in is three gold staters and . . .” His voice trailed off when he lifted his head and looked at me. “You’re a woman.”
“I’m aware.”
“Women aren’t allowed to compete in the tournament. Whores can find other ways to spend their time.”
A rush of anger made me see red. I had started to reach for my sword when a deep voice sounded from behind me, to my right. “That hardly seems fair. Her gold is as good as any other’s.”
The registrar didn’t seem to care. Instead he smiled broadly. “Her gold doesn’t matter. She can’t compete. There is no place for creatures like her in the tournament.”
I wouldn’t be competing in the tournament because I was going to kill this registrar, and that most likely was against their precious rules.
The man who had spoken up for me stepped forward, and I sucked in a deep breath when I saw his profile.
He wore a deep red tunic. He had a ring on every one of his fingers, and his earlobe was lined with rings.
Pirate. He looked like a pirate.
When I was fifteen I had spent months convinced that someday I would run away with a pirate. Thrax had teased me relentlessly about it.
And now here one was, defending me.
“Unfortunately for you,” he said to the registrar, “I read the rule book before coming. It only mentions ‘competitors’ and says nothing about men or women. There is no rule that excludes her.”
The registrar reached for a rule book farther down the table and began to scan the pages. His face got redder and redder the further he went. He slammed the book closed.
“So the rules don’t specifically exclude women, but this is an invitation-only event. We wouldn’t invite a woman.”
I remembered that papyrus the men had thrown at me. It had to have been an invitation. If only I’d kept it!
“I invited her,” the pirate said. “Competitors are allowed to invite other competitors, especially when we know they’re worthy.”
“You invited her?” the other man said disbelievingly. Which was fair, because the pirate was lying.
“Yes. I invited . . .”
His voice trailed off briefly and I quickly said, “Basileia.”
“I invited Basileia to join us. She’s a fearsome competitor. Unfortunately, her invitation was lost in the desert.”
“You did not invite her.”
“Are you doubting my word?” The pirate sounded indignant. “One of the competitors that you specifically invited? I would think that says more about you and your organization than it does about me.”
The registrar didn’t seem to understand the trap he’d just been pushed into and reacted exactly the way he was supposed to. “Of course we trust your word. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“Thank you.”
And in the space of a heartbeat, it was as if the registrar finally realized how the pirate had backed him into a corner. I saw the anger crossing his face. He couldn’t take it back. Witnesses had heard him saying he believed the pirate.
“Fine. If you want her to join, then she can share your room.”
As if to reassure me, the pirate quickly said, “They’re doubling up on all the rooms. They had more competitors join than they were anticipating. Would you be all right sharing a room with me?”
For a moment I couldn’t answer because he had turned his full gaze on me and it was like I’d been punched in the gut. Something strange was happening to me.
There was a glimmer of recognition. As if I’d met him before, even though I knew I hadn’t.
A sizzle of attraction.
He was a ridiculously handsome man. He was not at all the kind of man that I was normally attracted to. I liked Thracian men, big and blond, sometimes redheads.
This man had dark hair, eyes such a deep brown that they were almost black, his skin a golden brown. He wasn’t as brawny as Thracian men, but it was obvious that even though he was leaner, he was well built. He would have to be in order to compete.
I felt a bit dizzy. There was something about him. A light, a spark, that felt familiar and strange all at the same time. He made me feel not quite like myself.
“Basileia?” There was a teasing tone in his voice, as if he knew exactly what had afflicted me. “Is that all right?”
“Yes.” My mind had blanked out and I didn’t know what I was agreeing to. Would what be all right?
“Done,” he said, turning back to the registrar. “Pay the man.”
I managed to hand over the coins, still feeling odd.
The registrar asked for my information, putting it into his book. It was something of a shock that I could answer his questions because all I could think about was the man standing next to me.
This was not me. I was not a simpering girl who swooned because a handsome, charming stranger smiled at her.
I had to get a hold of myself.
The registrar handed over some pieces of paper, and I tried very hard to pay attention to what he was saying but failed miserably.
“This way,” the pirate said.
“What was it that I just agreed to?” I asked him as we left the tent.
He looked over his shoulder at me with a wicked grin that did things to my belly. “You just agreed to share a bedroom with me.”
Oh.
That was bad.
Very, very, very bad.