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The woman's eyes widened in awe. Raising the sword above her head, she held it aloft with both hands, and turning to the royal pavilion, looked up at Arthur.
“For you, great Arthur! For your god, Perun of the mighty oak, Perun of the mighty thunder!”
Excalibur began to gleam more strongly, its light intensifying like the sun breaking through stormy clouds.
Gasps came up from the crowd as a searing brilliance scorched through the air.
With sharp cries, the crowd below raised their hands to shield their eyes.
The light grew more blinding. I didn't even have time to look at Orcades before the brightness swept over us, an unstoppable force.
My hand fumbled, reaching out for my sister's.
I wondered if she would pull away, but to my surprise, Orcades froze, then very carefully squeezed my hand in response, not letting go.
The luminance finally began to wane like a blinding sun going behind a cloud.
Around us, there was chaos. Men and women shouting, others crying in panic. Arthur was saying something to Fenyx I couldn't make out.
The light faded.
We looked down at the arena, finally able to see more than a few feet beyond our faces again.
The prisoners were gone.
Only shadowy outlines of their forms were left, scorched traces in the sand. Their chains remained. The metal hissed and steamed in the sand.
The soldiers were gone, too.
As were the spectators in the first two tiers of arena seats.
Sharp cries and screams broke out from those in the rows behind as they realized those ahead of them had been turned to ash, victims of Excalibur's unimaginable power.
The crowd began to rise, splintering into a frenzy.
Next to me, Orcades was already rising from her seat, her hand slipping from mine.
“We must go,” she said sharply, looking towards Arthur. It was clear she was worried a mob might soon form. Her hands were protective over her stomach.
Arthur did not reprimand her for her insistence. Instead, he looked at Orcades’ protruding belly and nodded. Shouting at the soldiers around us to form a ring, he led Orcades down the steps of the pavilion.
I watched them as they went. It was the only time I could recall ever seeing my brother care for someone else. But then, Orcades was carrying his heir. A child he hoped would be a son, a future Pendragon king. She carried his legacy.
To my brother and sister both, the baby was a symbol of coming power. Not a child to be desired simply for itself.
I turned away, looking around at Fenyx and the other nobles.
The Lord General was standing near me by the rail of the pavilion, staring down at the arena. Below, the soldiers were directing the crowd back to the main road and away from the route my brother and Orcades were taking in their gilded carriage.
I watched as the Lord General’s eyes passed over the crowd and then lingered on the scorch marks where the prisoners had been moments before.
For a moment, I hesitated, not wanting to risk another encounter with Fenyx. But I couldn’t help being curious.
“Is this what you expected to happen? Is this what you wanted?”
“Wanted?” He looked over at me. There was no fear on his face. Simply excitement. “To be honest, I had no idea what to expect.”
I studied him. “I don’t think Arthur did either.”
