CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Gauntlet

Each of the realms under the sovereignty of Kingfountain had their own Gauntlet, and each was given the right to conduct it as they saw fit. Trynne was shocked to see this one begin in such a brutal manner. The guards went after the foreigners first, but they were soon wrestling with all the contenders for their weapons. She heard the crack of wood against bone and watched people slump to the ground only to be trampled on in the melee.

Trynne’s magic rushed in without being summoned. The murmur of waterfalls in her ears guided her through the haphazard violence. She identified a guard, the strongest, who was bringing down a man with almost every stroke, and chose him to disarm. Keeping her eyes fixed on him, she ducked a blow aimed at her forehead and prepared herself to strike. The guard saw her approach, grinned viciously, and swung the staff down in an overhand arc. She twisted sideways, feeling the wood hiss in front of her. When it clacked on the stone ground, she grabbed the quivering pole with both hands and used it to absorb her weight. She kicked the guard in the knee and then the groin, and wrenched the pole from his hands as he bowled over in pain. Whirling the staff over her head, she brought it down on his neck to stun him before kicking him in the chest to knock him down. Through her efforts, she felt her store of magic draining rapidly.

The gawky blond who could only be Fallon had already seized a weapon and was charging through the only open door. She hesitated a moment, wondering if she should go after him or help some of the others struggling in the room. Was this a contest of brute strength or a test of the principles of Virtus?

Another competitor had managed to grab a staff, but he was bleeding profusely from his scalp. So many had crumpled onto the floor, where they were writhing in pain, befuddled by the blows they had received. Very few would be competing in the rest of the Gauntlet, it appeared. Trynne struck a guard behind the knee and then whacked him upside the head. Not enough to knock him out, but enough to jar him. Another guard saw her do this and rushed at her. She kept the staff at the ready and then parried his blows effortlessly before countering with a sweep that knocked his legs out from under him. Curiously, using the magic for defense only sapped a little from it. A cheer rose up from the mob—people had seen her stop to help. The man with the bleeding face rushed past her to follow Fallon. Trynne tried to subdue her anger. She wanted to stay and humble all of the guards, but the delay would cost her later, especially if her power vanished before she made it through the other obstacles.

Trynne watched a smaller fellow grab the fallen staff of the guard she’d just injured. He gave her a grateful nod; after nodding back, she fled down the path.

The corridor was lit with fluttering torches and lined with tapestries, which made shadows wriggle and dance on the walls. She heard the sound of bootsteps rushing up a set of stairs and hurried to follow, feeling her heart thrum with excitement in her chest. The corridor took a sharp turn ahead, and she reached out with her magic to search for any obstacles. She sensed a bar had been fixed to the wall, about chest level, meant to surprise and harm someone running recklessly. Prepared to meet the challenge, Trynne ducked as she went around the bend, keeping her staff parallel to the floor. She dodged the bar easily, not losing her stride, and rounded another corner, where she found a cramped stairwell leading up to one of the manor towers. The sound of a slamming door came from above.

Trynne could hear the sound of boots from behind her as well, so she hastened up the stairs, taking them two at a time. She was grateful for her training with Captain Staeli. Her endurance was more than a match for the challenges she’d faced so far. When she reached the top of the stairs, there was a heavy iron door blocking the way. She remembered hearing it slam, which seemed odd until she noticed the pulley mechanism next to it, tied to heavy sandbags positioned above. Blinking quickly, she deduced that opening the door triggered the trap that would apply sudden pressure to the door. That meant there was something dangerous on the other side. Reaching out with her magic, she sensed that the tower led outside in a precipitous drop. She realized the drop below led to the moat.

Every use of her power diminished it, and she felt the edges of it shrinking, which made her stomach quiver with worry. What if it ran out when she needed it most? But there was no time to fret. The person coming up behind her would reach the landing soon, so Trynne heaved on the door. As she wrenched it open, she felt the wind and saw two torches hanging from sconces on the wall, the flames hissing in her face as they were drawn in by the wind. The moat was indeed below. Did that mean she needed to swim? Her eyes caught two iron bars extending down from just above the door, almost like rails that went down at an angle. She couldn’t see the moat in the darkness of night, but she could smell it, and she heard someone splashing in the water below.

Then she understood. She could place the staff over the bars and then hang on to it as she went down. She couldn’t see where she was going or how steep it was, but it was better than—

Click.

The trap released the sandbag and the door closed behind her, shoving her out of the tower. She managed to reach out and grab one of the bars with her left hand and dangled from it over the dark pool below. Gritting her teeth, she swung the staff up and over the bars, then quickly snatched it with her other hand. Suddenly, she was gliding downward along the poles. Her stomach thrilled with the feeling of flying, but she couldn’t see where she would land. There was a lawn on the other side of the moat, lit with braziers and sputtering torches that began to loom ahead. The ironwork rods she glided down eventually came to an end on the lawn.

As she hurtled downward at an accelerating pace, she saw the iron poles curled into circles at the ends and were attached to two wrought-iron columns at the end of the lawn. The circles were designed to absorb her momentum, she realized, and when she hit them, her body swung up and around once in a full circle. She dropped to the grass gracefully, just as someone spluttered in the water behind her. Turning, she saw the man with the wounded forehead trying to climb up onto the stone, looking tired and worn out from the swim with the staff. He glared at her as he swung up his legs.

Trynne pulled her staff out of the rings and raced ahead. There was a series of stone obstacles she needed to evade to cross the remainder of the lawn. Some were benches of varying heights. Some were pedestals. A tall wall loomed at the end, about twice the height of a man. She blinked quickly, trying to discern a pattern in the debris. Fallon was scrambling to get up the wall, but as high as he jumped, he could not reach the top edge. It would be impossible for her, for she was much shorter than him. He stepped back, tossed his staff up and over the wall like a javelin, and started shimmying up two of the pillars, which were close enough to provide him with leverage. Trynne started through the maze, jumping over one obstacle, darting past another. By the time she reached the pillars, Fallon had managed to fall forward and catch the lip of the wall. He pulled himself grunting up to the top.

She started up next, mimicking his movement by throwing the staff over it first. She then jammed her hands and feet against one of the pillars, pushing herself up the other. The other man arrived as she reached the top of the pillars. Trynne fell forward and barely managed to catch the edge of the wall. She felt a hand grope at her boot and realized the man below was trying to grab her and pull her down. She brought up her knees and heard his hand slap on the stone. It infuriated her that he was cheating!

The young man glared at her and then uttered an unflattering epithet in Legaultan at her as he started up the pillars himself. Was this the one they called Bowman?

Everyone who passed the Gauntlet earned a badge, but the one who came in first always won the champion’s badge and a hefty bag of gold. Others received lesser prizes. The money was intended to help a champion pay the costs of becoming a knight of the realm. This competitor was clearly willing to cheat to get the money and the fame. Trynne’s fingers burned and her arm muscles strained to hold herself up, but she had practiced for so long in the training yard that she knew what her body could do. She began rocking her hips and then pulled, swinging herself onto the top of the wall.

From that vantage point, she saw another competitor coming down the poles as she had while two more were trying to swim across the moat. Then from her position, she saw that the pillars were of varying heights. She could have jumped from one to the other across the maze, and a final leap would have brought her to the top of the wall.

So each challenge had a difficult way and an easier way to pass it. The bloodied man below swore under his breath and began shimmying up the pillars too. Trynne swung over the edge, lowered herself until she hung from the other side, and then dropped and fetched her staff. Lamps had been hung on iron poles lighting the path to an enormous hedge maze. As she ran toward it, she felt it waiting to swallow her up in darkness.

As Trynne entered the hedge maze, formed by a wooden trellis covered in thick jasmine vines, she heard rustling from the foliage. It was, she realized, the perfect hiding place for guardsmen. Suddenly a pole jabbed at her head from one of the clusters of leaves and Trynne ducked to avoid it, then raced ahead toward a crook in the maze. She had no idea which way to go, but somewhere ahead of her, she heard grunts, followed by a bark of pain.

Was it Fallon? After the way he’d treated her earlier that day, she wanted to win just to spite him.

A whisper of leaves was the only warning before someone thrust a pole at her chest. Trynne parried it with her staff, but she realized that the longer she kept still, the more guards would strike at her. She breathed hard, feeling the fatigue Myrddin had warned her about. Her magic was dwindling, and if she used it all up, she’d be comatose. She wouldn’t pass the Gauntlet.

Then another idea struck her. The trellises for the star jasmine vines were made of wood. She ran the length of maze on her right, and when she got to the end, she swung up the staff across the trellises on either side of the maze and pulled herself up. From this position, she could see a burning pit fire along the far wall of the maze, marking the exit.

A staff lunged from the foliage and struck her ribs. She’d been too slow to dodge it. Grunting with pain, she dropped down, fetched her staff, and hurried off in the direction she had seen the fire. The maze turned her around a few times, but she kept moving, listening to the sound of rustling and whispers from beyond the wall. In the daylight, the hedge maze would have been much easier to navigate. The darkness and shadows made it difficult to find offshoot corridors. But Trynne was persistent and pulled herself up several times to spy her way. She was getting closer to the end when she heard the noise of people entering the maze behind her. It sounded like the five others were coming in at the same time.

As she drew nearer to the glow of the pit fire, she saw more details amidst the green leaves of the vines of the maze.

Then she heard a series of thumps, followed by grunts of pain. With a twinge, she recognized Fallon’s voice.

“You craven gunnnghh!” It sounded as if his words had been broken off by a blow.

“I thought it was you,” Prince Elwis muttered darkly. “What magic is it that disguises your face, Llewellyn? Hold him fast!”

The voices were coming from Trynne’s right, but when she hurried to reach them, she found herself at a dead end. She’d gone the wrong way. She was about to turn around and walk away when she heard the voices coming from behind her.

“A ring, is it? Where did you get this?”

Trynne felt the stream of Fountain magic, which she’d sensed throughout the competition, suddenly vanish.

“Pizzle in the Deep Fathoms,” Fallon cursed at him. There was the noise of fist punching stomach and another groan.

“I’ll take it as a keepsake. You thought you could trick us, Llewellyn? Well, you won’t be getting past the hedge maze. At least not tonight.”

“When I get out of this,” Fallon wheezed in warning.

“You’ll do what? Weep to your mum?” His voice took on a childish taunt. “Life is so unfair. ‘I have a scrape, Mum. Will you kiss it?’ You pampered nobles disgust me.”

Trynne wondered if she should climb up the trellis and jump down to the other side, but then she realized that perhaps it was the right way to go. The jasmine vines were thick enough that they could overhang a gap and only look like a wall. She pushed her way through the vines and was suddenly at the end of the maze.

There was Prince Elwis with four of his guards. Three of them were in the process of chaining Fallon to the trellis to stop him from competing.

“Ah, the painted knight. The Atabyrion,” Elwis said dispassionately. “The short one.” His expression turned sour. “I don’t like the thought of one of your countrymen winning my kingdom’s Gauntlet either, Llewellyn.” He gave Trynne a cold look. “You’ll stay here too, Woady. Take him,” he barked.

Trynne was ready for the attack from behind. She’d seen Elwis’s eyes dart behind her, and her magic had warned her there were men sneaking up. Trynne did not have time for a sustained fight, so she twisted into a low stance and swung her staff up and over her head backward, cracking it against the skull of one of her attackers. As she untwisted her legs, she brought it around again and dropped the second man.

Elwis’s eyes widened with surprise.

Trynne went after him, but two of the guards closed ranks in front of him, blocking her. She dispatched both of them in seconds. The magic of the wellspring filled her with knowledge, but her magic and strength were both gushing out of her. She heard a sword clear its scabbard and saw Elwis was armed, his eyes dark with menace.

“You think that you can best me, boy?” Elwis sneered.

Trynne adjusted her grip on the staff. Pole against sword. Little though he might know it, Elwis was already at a disadvantage. She had the longer reach. She maintained a defensive posture and waited for him to attack her, slowing the ebb of her magic.

“I warn you,” Elwis taunted. “I’ve never been defeated. If you face me, you won’t be walking out of this maze. You won’t be walking anywhere.”

But in a few quick moves, Fallon bested one of the guards trying to subdue him, wrapping an arm around the man’s neck and struggling to choke him.

Trynne did not answer. She didn’t want her voice to shake. She wasn’t afraid of Prince Elwis and she hesitantly reached out with her magic, looking for a weakness to exploit. The truth of the matter was that he was just as capable as he claimed to be. He had trained and practiced for years, had pushed himself to succeed in every imaginable way. He was a disciplined warrior, not opposed to using tricks and deceit to win. He’d even been trained at the poisoner school. She could sense his skill brooding beneath the surface.

She bowed to him, saluting with the staff, and then waited for him to make his move.

Elwis charged at her, using his sword to jab and thrust at her. He was trying to injure her. She defended herself, her only goal to stay conscious and knock him senseless. She could see no recognition in his eyes. Her soldier’s garb and woad stains had completely fooled him. Magic leached from her faster and faster.

The sword came down and Trynne caught it, then jammed the end of her spear into the prince’s stomach so hard he bowed over, clutching his chest. He couldn’t breathe, but he fought on. When she whipped the staff around to crush his cheek, he ducked and rolled forward, a dangerous move, and tried to stab her. Trynne pivoted and the blade rushed past her harmlessly. She trapped his wrist against her side, then jammed her knuckles holding the staff against his throat and flipped him over and onto his back. He struck the stones so hard that he blacked out.

Trynne stared at the body, gasping hard and feeling her knees tremble. Captain Staeli could not have done any better.

The other guard slumped to the ground, also unconscious. Fallon, free of his disguise, was staring at her keenly. Did he recognize her? She wasn’t sure. She couldn’t get enough air and felt the black edges closing in around her eyes.

Trynne knelt down by Elwis, keeping her painted profile facing Fallon. She felt his neck to make sure he was breathing. His pulse was ragged, but he would survive and awaken with great pain. At his collar, she saw the champion necklace and the little gold badges affixed to the chain. He had four of them. It was one of the rules of Virtus that a knight who was challenged had to fight a duel, and if they lost, they lost their tokens. Trynne hadn’t challenged Elwis in words, but he had challenged her by attacking first. By rights, the necklace he wore so proudly was hers. She snapped it off his neck and cupped it in her hand.

Fallon chuckled. “You’ve made a mortal enemy,” he said with a grunt. “Believe me, I know. What’s your name?”

She kept her voice low. “Fidelis, my lord. They call me Ellis.” She had chosen the name earlier as a nod to the Atabyrion word fidelis. Faithful.

Fallon wrinkled his brow. “You’ve done me good service today, Ellis. Do I know your family? You look familiar.”

Trynne dug her hand into Elwis’s pocket and found the ring that he had taken from Fallon. She could sense the Fountain magic inside it, radiating like smoking coals.

Before she could pass it to Fallon, he smiled and shook his head. “Let him keep it,” he whispered conspiratorially. “It’s cursed, actually. I meant for him to have it all along.”

At those words, Trynne realized that Fallon was more clever than she had realized. How had he come into possession of a cursed ring? A certain dark-haired poisoner came to mind. Trynne started to smile and then caught herself in the act. Fallon’s gaze began to narrow, his eyes crinkling at the edges. She stuffed the ring back into the prince’s pocket.

She straightened and then jangled Elwis’s chain. “I’ll take this, then. I’ve won enough today, my lord. This Gauntlet is yours.” She gestured for him to precede her, hoping she wouldn’t faint.

He pursed his lips, then shook his head. “No, you’re the one who earned the champion rank. I’ll not claim it unfairly. Take the honor, Ellis.”

Trynne shook her head, feeling her body start to wobble. “No, I’m spent, my lord. You claim it. If I don’t flee now before he rouses, I’ll not live through the night. I need to get far away.” She jiggled the necklace in her palm. A Brugian badge already hung from it, so she didn’t need to earn it twice. “This is enough.”

“It means we’ll both have four badges. I’ll see you next in Occitania. And I’ll win that one without your help.” He gave her a nod of respect.

She waited for him to go ahead through the archway leading out. Then she sucked in her breath and prayed she had enough Fountain magic to make it to the sanctuary where Captain Staeli was awaiting her.