Page 45 of Blood of the Sands

“No.” A smile quirked the edge of her lips. “Neven was the first.”

I furrowed my brow in question. She leaned back with a sigh and gestured for me to sit.

“Neven was a member of Clan Tibel. He was given his horse when he came of age, but training to be one of the clan riders…well, it wasn’t for him. He always wanted to be a craftsman, but his parents were both warriors and hunters, and they tried to force him to follow in their footsteps. One day, when the clan passed close by the city, he left. He rode into Kelvadan looking just as lost as you did.

“I was the guard at the gate that day and decided to help him. Now he weaves the best cloth in the city, and traders from across the mountain consistently come in search of it. And us…”

Aderyn shrugged, but her meaning was clear.

“Neven seems less likely to accidentally cut your arm off though,” I grumbled.

“Dryden isn’t going to lose an arm,” Aderyn snorted. “He’s just shaken up. Doesn’t really have a warrior’s disposition.”

“What if I can’t win the Trials? What if I end up hurting more people than I help—if people would be safer if I left?” My heart hurt even as I said it. Kelvadan was the closest to belonging I had ever felt, even if I occasionally felt homesick for a place I couldn’t even picture. It certainly wasn’t the oasis where I struggled to survive, even more trapped than I felt when entombed in the stone of the mountain. Here, I had Aderyn and Neven, who included me in conversation easily every night, even if I didn’t contribute much to the proceedings. I enjoyed being part of their family.

Something flickered in Aderyn’s eyes—something looking suspiciously like hurt. She looked away, not meeting my gaze as she spoke low, as if confessing to a grave misdeed.

“I knew somebody who struggled the same way you do once. I lost them many years ago. I hoped—I still hope—that helping you might be a way to set things right. And I still believe you came to Kelvadan for a reason.”

I tilted my head. The queen had said something very similar when she explained to me her family’s fraught history.

“Stay through the Trials,” Aderyn proposed. “I believe you are more likely to win than you are to hurt anybody.”

I nodded my agreement. It was the least I could do for one of the first real friends I had ever had, even if I didn’t fully understand her faith in me.

The plains outside the city had been transformed, now almost as lively as the streets inside the walls. Rows of tents lined walkways through an encampment larger than even the one of Clan Katal I had escaped from months earlier. The large tents of prominent families mixed with the small dwellings of single riders. Flags of every color hung at the entrance flaps, signaling the presence of all the tribes, although I gave tents sporting the maroon scorpion of Clan Padra a wide berth.

The whicker of horses and the smell of meat roasting over fire filled the air as all the competitors for the Trials arrived. They had been trickling in for days now, more and more coming as we approached the opening feast, which would be held this evening.

I walked among the tents in awe of the number of riders ready to test their skills. Perhaps I would be eliminated by some other skilled rider before I even encountered the Viper, or perhaps the Viper would lose to somebody else. The thoughts swirled in complicated eddies that I couldn’t fully keep track of as I pondered the competition.

Dryden wouldn’t be able to compete at all after his injury. When I went to apologize to him, he waved me off and told me the feasting and dancing interspersed with the competition would be the most fun part anyways. Something about the way he said it told me he was just trying to avoid upsetting me. The tinge of fear in his eyes, perhaps of how I might react if he enraged me, hurt the worst of all.

It was part of the reason I explored the temporary encampment alone now. Aderyn had appointed herself as the queen’s additional bodyguard for the duration of the Trials, and Neven was busy running a stall to sell his textiles to the many visitors who would be using the Trials as a time to buy goods from the city. There would be plenty of time to do business as the Trials were scheduled to last a full month, with time between the events for competitors to recover and celebrate.

While Dryden, Nyra, and the other trainees would certainly be enjoying the events too, I couldn’t bear the sidelong glances they had shot me ever since Dryden’s injury.

The sun creeped toward the horizon, staining the whole camp in crimson and gold as the underlying buzz of excitement built. Competitors emerged from their tents or left their campfires as dusk approached, moving toward the main thoroughfare of the camp.

I joined them, waiting for the appointed hour when the queen would arrive and all competitors would declare their intentions to join the Trials. We crowded into the wide street created by two lines of tents leading straight toward the archway into the city. I tried my best to stay on the fringes, where the bodies crowded together less densely.

My reluctance to push into the crowd found me carried to the back of the queue of fighters, ready to pledge their intention to the queen. While I stood above almost all the other female riders in height, the taller men still made it difficult to see as Queen Ginevra emerged, standing in the archway, outfit glimmering in the light of dusk. I could just spot Aderyn, standing off her shoulder with a hand on her dagger, glaring at each warrior who stepped up to the queen and knelt, swearing to fight honorably in the coming Trials.

The queue inched forward, and I ran over the words Aderyn had taught me as the ceremonial request to compete for the honor of being named Champion. So engrossed was I in my mental rehearsal that I almost missed when a hush fell over the competitors around me. The entire rear quarter of the line turned to stare at the figure who fell into the very back of the queue. I turned to see what they were staring at, and my heart froze in my ribcage. Standing alone, black silhouette outlined by the setting sun, was the Viper.

Chapter Thirteen

The Viper

The riders waiting their turn to kneel before the queen gave me a wide berth. I did nothing to dissuade them, leaving my hand resting on the hilt of the dirk shoved into my sash. Many of those assembled came from the tribes already united with Clan Katal, familiar enough with my methods of persuasion. The riders from the remaining five tribes feared what I might do to bring them into line. While tales of the Viper might not have reached the citizens of Kelvadan, my appearance and the whispers from other warriors were enough to inspire uneasiness.

I almost snorted in wry amusement at the thought that I was more easily recognized with my face covered than without. Still, with my mask, they recognized me only as a figure to be feared—the snake of Clan Katal. I preferred it that way.

My teeth creaked in my head from grinding them as the line inched forward. My skull felt tight as the whispers of the desert in my mind turned to insistent murmuring with every step forward, as if they were anxious for me to reach the front of the line. I had plenty of time to conquer my conflicted feelings about kneeling before the queen on the way here. If it was necessary to achieve our purpose, I would put aside my pride. After all, a sword had no pride, it only did as its wielder commanded.

Something about the coming encounter made the desert stir though. I caught sight of the queen’s form, much as I remembered it, although still touched by the passage of time. Her silhouette was softened by the decade since I had seen her, but her upright posture was rigid as ever. I halfway expected the murmuring in my mind to turn to shouts upon seeing her, but they remained an insistent tether at the base of my skull, pulling me toward an unseen goal.

It seemed like just a moment, lasting an eternity, until it was only me standing in the thoroughfare before the entrance to Kelvadan. I didn’t look at the queen’s face as I stepped forward and dropped to one knee in the hardened sands a few paces in front of her.