And you will need them.
Elena turned to Jangir, who smiled and clapped. Varun fixed the cap on his head while Leelat raised his hands, egging on the crowd. The dhols began to beat with a frenzy, or perhaps that was her heartbeat as she straightened, fury building in her chest like a fire.
“I’ll stay,” she said to Yassen. “I want to see their faces when they learn that they’ve been betrayed.”
She strode forward as the sun threw the shadow of the statue up the steps of the museum. Jangir turned from the crowd, hand outstretched. She took it, smiled. As the holocams flashed she gestured for Varun and Leelat to join them. And she wrapped her arm around Varun, slipping the pod in his pocket.
“This way, Your Highness,” Jangir said. “We have adelightfulsurprise for you at the tournament.”
In the courtyard behind the museum, an arena was set. Spectators sat surrounding a long wooden platform lightly dusted with sand. Slingswords lined the far wall, their long blades tall and gleaming, etched with messages and names she could not read from this distance.
Jangir guided her to the top viewing box. Candied pecans, roasted pistachios, caramelized jalebis, and other treats sat in pristine bowls on a table. White wine chilled in a pitcher. Varun poured her a glass as Jangir showed her to her seat at the edge of the box.
“We invited the best fighters in the country. In the world.” Jangir smiled as the gates below opened and two men strode out. One wore a gold cap; the other, a cloak. “I think you’ll find them quite impressive.”
Elena nodded, but she did not drink. She glanced at the time projected along the glass. Barely twenty minutes had passed since she had set the timer. She glanced at Varun, who had taken a seat on her right and was already munching on pistachios.
When the timer went off, a seeminglyundisclosed sourcewould send governmental reports that indicated Jangir’s allegiance to Jantar to media outlets and the journalists crowding the seats. At the same time, holos would automatically project from the pod in Varun’s pocket. They would show private messages, sent by Varun, to reporters about leaking the reports. The journalists would latch on to the story like a yeseri hunting down a hare. And Jangir would see that Varun was the mastermind. That he was the reason for his downfall.
She watched as Varun reached for another handful of pistachios. Leelat wiped sweat from his forehead while Jangir drank his wine, eyes bright and cold. She needed both of them to believe Varun sent those reports.
Patience, she told herself as the fighters assumed their first stance.It will happen.
The men launched forward. The gold cap was short but fast, and he easily darted in and out of the cloaked man’s reach. His opponent released his blade, but the gold cap lurched away, his hat not even shifting an inch.
Despite herself, Elena began to follow the duel, tracking every dance of footwork, the arc of blades, the timing of their advances.The gold cap favors his left leg.When he parried, his left shoulder would inch forward, indicating the direction of his retaliatory advance. And as for the cloaked man…He needs to be softer on his feet.He was tall, yes, and his height gave him an advantage, but the cloak seemed to be slowing him down. Elena wondered why he did not take it off, when the gold cap shot forward, his blade ripping through the air, and the cloaked fighter stumbled back. The crowd gasped, and Elena tensed. Blood spotted the sand. The gold cap raised his sword again, eyes triumphant, when the fighter suddenly flung off his cloak, twisting it around the other’s arm and yanking him forward to meet his blade.
Elena shot to her feet, as did Jangir. As did the crowd. The sword rested lightly against the gold cap’s throat as Samson smiled and looked to her.
“I believe it’s my game, Your Highness.”
Oh, Samson, you bastard.
So this was Jangir’s surprise. She turned to him as the crowd stamped their feet and whistled their approval. Samson bowed, grinning.
“Your betrothed is a skilled fighter,” Jangir said before she could speak. “He organized this tournament and asked me if he could surprise you on Birdsong Day.”
“So he did,” Elena said. She looked to Yassen, who shook his head. “Though, I think I’m done with surprises for today.”
Jangir chuckled, and Elena turned to call to Samson to join them when she saw Varun stand.
“Are you leaving?”
“Unfortunately, Your Highness. Duty calls.” He glanced at Jangir, smile faltering for a moment, before recovering. “I hope you enjoy the rest of the tournament.”
“Wait!” She peered at the clock. A quarter till the end of the hour. “I believe I am ready for one more surprise.”
She turned back to the arena, where Samson clipped his slingsword back on his belt.
“How about one more game, beloved?” she called.
Samson stopped. Murmurs went through the crowd as Jangir began to protest, but she waved him away, eyes on Samson.
“A duel. You and me. Loser will carry the other up the steps of the museum.” At this, oohs and aahs rippled through the crowd. Elena pulled a flirtatious smile, one that did not meet her eyes as she held Samson’s gaze.
Come on, she willed.Play along with me.
Samson considered her, his amusement slowly fading. Finally, he gave a small nod.
