Page 51 of Blood of the Sands

There was nothing I could want there. My saber was my most prized possession, really my only personal belonging outside of my mask, so the fine weapons sure to be on display were of no use to me. I wore the same gray clothes every day, and I wouldn’t take off my mask to eat any of the foods that drew in many who wandered the encampment with their mouthwatering scents.

Still, my steps carried me toward the crowded thoroughfare, and my mind hurried to justify my direction. Perhaps there was something to be learned about the clans that Lord Alasdar would soon command by mingling with them, or maybe I could discern a weakness of Kelvadan I had not thought of before.

Thankfully, I traversed the crowds easily as I walked, shoppers stepping aside the moment they looked up to see my masked face and leaving a clear path for me. I huffed through my nose, realizing I was unlikely to discern anything about the people around me if conversation continued to die as I passed. Shifting my weight, I prepared to turn around and head out into the open desert as I’d originally planned when I saw her.

Keera stood with her back partially to me before a stall boasting platters of stuffed dates, their scent thick despite the mask shielding my nose. I frowned at the sudden memory of her sitting across the fire from me a world away, telling me she didn’t like dates, but that had been a dream. Still, as she popped the treat into her mouth—my gaze unconsciously tracking the way her lips closed around her fingers to catch the spiced juice—I imagined a crease between her brows and a slight wrinkle to her nose.

Then she smiled at her companion, my attention turning to the fair man that had offered her the treat. He certainly didn’t look to be from the desert or the city. He must be an ambassador or a prominent trader, as they were the only people who regularly crossed the mountains to visit the city. A knot of magic in the base of my skull pulled tight as I wondered what the former exile would be doing with an ambassador. Just then, Keera turned, looking straight at me as if I had called her name.

Spinning on my heel, I stomped back in the direction I had come before I could see her reaction. A long walk in the quiet of the wilderness would help me manage the swirling in my head. I didn’t envy Keera spending her downtime entertaining ambassadors, however that had come about. A small voice in my mind chimed in that it was a glimpse of the life I might have had if I hadn’t left Kelvadan nearly a decade ago. It wasn’t a life I desired.

Noticeably fewer participants lined up before the city walls than had for the hunt, but the line still stretched dozens of riders from the end where I sat atop Alza, as well as several horses deep. This time, we had not been told what our task would be before we arrived, the only instruction given the night after the hunt for the remaining riders to come at dawn with their horses and blunted blades.

Several figures emerged from the arch in the city walls, my gaze snapping to the shortest of the silhouettes. I instantly recognized the queen’s posture, as much as I thought memories of her had been scorched from my brain. I tore my eyes from her to see several others carrying a large pot, the way they leaned toward it telling me the contents were heavy. The last figure was unmistakably Aderyn, and although I couldn’t see her expression clearly, I imagined her eyes darting up and down the line of competitors, alert for any possible threat to her queen.

“Riders!” The queen raised her arms to draw the competitors’ attention, as if the gathered participants hadn’t collectively held their breath the moment she emerged, awaiting her instructions. Despite her stature, her voice projected clearly, years of practice allowing her to command the attention of groups easily. “Today’s event will be a test of not only your individual skill, but your cunning and ability to cooperate.”

I shifted my weight on Alza’s back. The Viper didn’t cooperate. The Viper commanded.

“You will be divided into five teams. Each team will be tasked with retrieving one of the four flags that have been placed at an undisclosed location in the plains beyond the city. Each flag will belong to the team that is the first to capture it. All the riders in the team that fails to claim a flag will be eliminated from the Trials.”

An inaudible ripple ran through the assembled riders as the queen finished explaining the challenge. It was not unheard of for the events of the Trials to be set up in a manner that rewarded cooperation amongst competitors, but this degree of reliance on others had me—and many others, I was sure—bristling.

“Each of you will come forward and pick a stone from the basin.” Aderyn spoke this time, gesturing to the earthenware pot at the queen’s feet. “The color of the paint on the stone will determine what team you are on.”

She waved, and we all shuffled forward into a rough queue. Each rider dismounted and drew a small flat rock from the basin before shuffling off to let the next competitor decide their fate with a splash of colored paint.

When I approached the front of the line, I dismounted from Alza with the weight of the queen’s gaze heavy upon me. I didn’t look up at her, for some reason loathe to afford her the opportunity of catching sight of the slightest silver gleam of my eyes, even though they wouldn’t be a surprise to her. It seemed like she was searching for hints of her son in my posture as I bent to retrieve a stone from the shadowed innards of the pottery vessel. She would see my eyes as a sign that the Erix she remembered was only separated from her by a thin sheet of metal, but she would be wrong. Erix of Kelvadan was dead and buried along the distant trek across the desert to the sea.

My gloved fingers closed around my stone, and I pulled it forward to reveal a splash of red across the flat gray surface. I nodded at it as if in some agreement before vaulting back onto Alza’s back and joining the milling competitors all waiting to see who would join their team.

As dozens of riders repeated the process, I, at first, tried to keep track of who the painted rocks sorted into each team. A stocky rider from Clan Tibel pulled a blue rock, a woman from Clan Otush joined me with a red one. Eventually though, I gave up the pursuit, instead idly twisting Alza’s mane between my fingers. It didn’t matter who rode on my team or who stood against me. I would retrieve the flag for my team and move on to the next round—I had to.

Against my will, my gaze drifted up as a familiar blood bay stallion stopped before the queen. The figure dismounted with grace despite the significant distance from her horse’s back to the ground. My fingers froze in Alza’s mane as Keera bent down and pulled a stone from the basin.

A flash of red in Keera’s hand—a sudden tensing of her muscles, and my heart stuttered.

Keera lifted her head to look at Queen Ginevra, although her expression was partially shielded from my view by the end of her hood.

After a moment of stillness, the line moved on, and Keera joined the crowd of waiting riders, lost from my sight in the crush of horseflesh. I was glad of the momentary reprieve as magic whirled in my throat, threatening to bring my mind along with it. With an iron grip, my fist squeezing around the hilt of my blunted saber until it cut a line in my palm through the gloves, I shoved it down. As before, who was on my team made no difference. I would succeed, and that would be the end of it.

As the last competitor drew their stone, Aderyn shouted for the riders to sort themselves into teams. I found myself on the edges of the red group, and volunteers from Kelvadan quickly distributed strips of fabric to tie on our arms to designate our team membership. I fastened mine around my bicep as my gaze flickered unconsciously to Keera, who was doing the same on the far side of the loose circle.

“You have five minutes to coordinate as a team, and then the trial will begin,” the queen announced.

Muttering ran through all the groups in a wave, snippets of plans and ideas murmured to teammates within the circle. The teams quickly dissolved into smaller factions discussing the best way to go about acquiring a flag. I ground my teeth. A quick count of my teammates revealed about two dozen.

“Trios,” I said, not a shout but a clear statement that rang out from behind my mask, silencing the disjointed conversations around me. “We will divide into groups of three to cover the most ground, while not leaving any riders alone if we should face opposition from the other teams.”

In a moment of stillness, the riders silently weighed my command. In the twisting magic around us, the battle between the need to cooperate and the resistance to my leadership was palpable. Then, a shuffling broke out as riders sorted themselves out, gathering into clusters of three and introducing themselves to their temporary allies.

A knee bumped against mine, and I started, looking up only to be pinned by a golden gaze. Keera had pulled Bloodmoon up alongside Alza, who seemed as if she wanted to edge away at the memory of the warhorse’s violent temper. If Bloodmoon recognized my mare, he showed no sign of it.

“You certainly seem used to giving orders,” Keera observed, her tone biting, as the red team sorted themselves out as I suggested.

“How convenient, as you are likely used to following blindly as a rider of Kelvadan.” The words were out of my mouth before I could school myself into neutrality. My personal opinions about the Great City didn’t need to be shared for me to fulfill my role in Lord Alasdar’s plans and emerge as Champion.

“I belong to no one.” Keera’s tone was defiant, but some uncurrent of sadness in her statement nearly gave me pause.