Behind the blackness of the blindfold, I readied my bow and waited for the call.A slight breeze grazed across my bare fingers, gripping the arrow in place.
Atlas’s voice penetrated the darkness.‘Draw.’
I pulled my elbow back until my hand aligned with my ear.It took strength to keep a bowstring taut, and all the muscles in my shoulder and back laboured to keep my bow steady.
‘Release!’
In my mind’s eye, I visualised the iron tip of my arrow piercing the centre of the target.I released my arrow with a steady exhale, feeling a slight tingle in my fingertips as the arrow left my bow.
There was a roar so loud there was no mistake that one of us had won.I tugged off my blindfold.
Our arrows had both hit the target, but only mine had hit the bullseye.I looked beside me to see the face of the man who almost knocked me out of the tournament.He was looking away from me at someone in the crowd.
I froze when he finally turned in my direction – it was the young man who’d retrieved Warwick’s sword from the shop yesterday – the same one who had watched me turn barrels to ash.
Of all the soldiers,hewas the one to almost best me?
I rotated on the spot, searching for Cillian.With a broad smile,he clapped and cheered with the rest of Murus.A feeling of triumph washed over me for the first time.
†
The barracks felt empty with half the competitors gone.I rested beside Nightmare as the remaining competitors’ numbers were called up, and only the winners returned.The older, disciplined man I had observed earlier was the only other Murus man to get through the archery round.
I listened to the soldiers’ conversations while I waited for the next event.They all seemed sure one of two men would be the victor.First was a young, handsome man with ebony skin and blue eyes.He was slight in build – but an expert swordsman from the talk I overheard.The other, they treated with more wariness and fear.He was a giant; the biggest man I had ever seen.His countenance was mean, and he enjoyed making the other soldiers squirm in his presence.While most of the remaining competitors were full of praise for each other’s talents, he spent his time mocking their size or technique.
He pushed his oily dark hair back from his face and jutted his chin at me.‘Oy, you, why don’t you take off that helmet?’
From the corner of my visor, I saw the Murus man standing beside me shift his weight.
‘What?Do you have to hide how ugly you are?’the giant mocked.
No-one laughed.With a face like that, he had some nerve calling anyone ugly.To my surprise, the Murus man stepped in front of me.
‘Leave them alone,’ he said as he dropped his hand to the hilt of his sword.
I didn’t need anyone to defend me.Perhaps being the only ones who weren’t in Torgrin and Atlas’s little army made him feel like we were comrades in arms?
‘Save it for the arena, old man,’ sneered the ugly giant.
The tension built as we waited.No-one was talking or laughing anymore.
A soldier with a list of our numbers came forward, drawing everyone’s attention.He informed us it was to be a series of simple one-on-one sword fights, with each of the winning competitors going through to the next round.
My heart sank when my number and colour, along with the Murus man, were called.It was wise for Torgrin and Atlas to put the two participants who weren’t soldiers against each other.It ensured that only one of us would make it through.I didn’t want to fight him after his kindness, but I would.
They had cleared the arena of targets and the two of us stood with our swords at the ready, with hundreds of eyes waiting and watching.
I let the man from Murus take the first swing, which I sidestepped quickly.He was testing how fast I moved, and now he knew.Even with a full suit of armour on, I was fast.
We parried a few more times, and I found him quick on his feet.But he dragged his left leg a little.He either had hurt it during the archery round, or it was an old injury he was trying to hide.
He struck high with his sword, and I met it easily with mine.I felt his determination to win through his blade.I let him believe I was weakening, and he took advantage by bearing more of his weight on his sword.It was exactly what I wanted him to do.I extracted my sword and spun out from under him.The quick withdrawal made him lose his balance, and he stumbled forward.His mistake made it easy to kick his leg out from under him.Despite his hard landing, he rolled onto his back swiftly, but it was to no avail.I had my sword pointed at his heaving chest before he could rise.
I waited patiently for him to concede.Knowing he had been defeated, he released his sword and tapped the ground.There was a roar from the crowd.I removed my sword and reached out my hand to him.He took it without hesitation.
He lifted his helmet off and tucked it under his arm.‘Good luck, Swordmaker,’ he said so only I could hear him.
My whole body went tense.‘How did you know?’I murmured through my visor.
