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Empire of Night Ch30
Lisril stood bare-chested on the frozen, hard-packed earth. The sky was clear, and a cold sun slipped beneath the horizon. A small and growing crowd was gathered around. Her opponent had chosen a public venue for their contest.
It seemed a shame their death would be so public, but that was their right. She looked around and didn’t see the old crone who had precipitated all this.
Lisril had assumed she would elect a champion but to fail even to appear…. Evidently, there was no accounting for the cowardice of the gentry.
A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she covered it with her own. “I’m fine, Alex.” She looked over her shoulder and into those brilliant green eyes that had years ago entranced her.
She backed up against him, enjoying his warmth, and he wrapped his arms around her stomach. “Be safe, Lisril.”
She folded her arms over his, squeezing tight. “You don’t need to worry about me, Alex. “Remember, I’m not entirely natural myself anymore.”
He rested his chin on the crown on her head, bent down to place a soft kiss on her neck. “I’d feel better if you’d take more.”
She chuckled. “I’ll consider it. But it’s too late now.”
“Why take a fair fight?” He asked. “Let me do it.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Lisril said. “This is being handled under Nyxian law, and under the law of this land, you have no standing to fight on your own behalf, let alone someone else’s.”
His hands closed over the firm flesh of her hips. “Well, the laws should change to accommodate proper men.”
She chuckled. “These ladies would tend to disagree with your assessment of manhood.”
“What about you?”
She kissed him. “I married a proper man.”
He grinned at her, and a ripple of conversation moved through the crowd. The moon was beginning to rise. “Time for the show,” she said, “cheer for me.”
“Good luck,” he murmured, “be safe.”
She strode out into the field encircled by a crowd. Her opponent joined her. A young woman, as expected, wearing a thick winter doublet. Weak.
Lisril drew her saber in a smooth, practiced motion. The weapon felt good in her hand; it had been far too long since she’d last wielded a saber in battle. She spun the blade in a brief flourish, the steel eager in her grip.
As she did, she eyed the woman opposite her. A woman of southern extraction, like Lisril, pink-skinned and dark of hair. Lisril watched her slowly draw her blade, looking hesitant and unsure.
Lisril smirked and burst out laughing.
For a moment, the woman seemed shocked, then her face twisted into a scowl. “What’s so funny?”
Just like that, Lisril had hooked her fish. “Just that, that cowardly bitch would send an unbloodied whelp to die on her behalf.”
The woman’s face reddened. “How dare you!”
“How does it feel,” Lisril sneered, “to be her least favorite relation?”
“Shut up!”
“After all,” Lisril said, “you mustn’t be her favorite if she’s sent you to die on my steel.”
The girl swung her blade in front of her. “We’ll see who walks away. And when I kill you, everyone will see what sort of woman the Empress is.”
“Evidentally,” Lisril said, “the sort with access to women rather than girls.”
The girl’s jaw clenched, and her grip on her saber was white-knuckled.
The magistrate approached them, glancing between the two women. “That’s enough. The parties may approach.”
Lisril strode up to the magistrate and met the girl in the center of the field.
“Who will stand as your principal witnesses?”
“My husband,” Lisril said. “Alexander Hagan.”
“My friend will witness me,” the girl said. “Cestiel Zechten.”
“Couldn’t convince a man?” Lisril sneered.
The girl gritted her teeth. “Maybe I’ll take yours,” she snarled, "once I've killed his wife."
"Ladies!" the magistrate cried. “Enough! A prioress has been provided if you’ve any final business with the Lady.”
“I won’t be needing it,” the girl said.
“I’ll speak to the sister,” Lisril said.
“Feeling nervous?”
“Not particularly.” Lisril strolled up to the prioress and bowed her head. "Sister."
“Lisril,” the woman said. She had a reputation amongst the clergy. “Come to ask me to pray for your opponent’s mortal soul?”
“No,” she said, “I failed to tell my husband that I had a pact with an old friend to bring her into my marriage. Whatever excuse I may offer him….”
“You are pardoned, child,” the sister murmured. “Fight without this weight on your shoulders.”
Lisril smiled. “Thank you, sister.” She turned. “Oh, and sister?”
“Yes?”
“Do pray for her; she’ll need it.”
“Yes,” the woman laughed. “I’ll see to it.”
Lisril returned to her position, idly spinning her sword, passing it from hand to hand, demonstrating her acuity.
It had been too long, far too long. But the motions came back with ease. She came to rest in a high salute, signaling her readiness and her opponent mirrored her.
The magistrate stepped back into the crowd and left the two of them to their devices.
They eyed each other, slowly creeping to the center of the ring, stopping just out of measure. She presented her saber, her opponent bringing her’s up in response, and for a time, they probed and tested one another.
She stepped in, seizing the initiative, and battered the girl’s saber aside.
She stamped, threatening her opponent’s leg with claws, and in the same moment threw a cut at the girl’s head, drawing her blade down across her body to ward any counterattack.
The girl shuffled back, cutting low, toward Lisril’s leg, and she stepped aside and pressed forward, thrusting for the woman’s heart, and when met by her blade stamped again, maintaining her momentum.
She intercepted a cut aimed toward her belly and pivoted, punching with her sword’s swept guard, stamping a third time and breaking the woman’s stance, sending her stumbling away.
Lisril followed, bringing her blade’s pommel down upon the woman’s head, brought her knee up into her gut, and then stomped down, tearing her leg open from calf to heel.
The woman gave a weak cry, crumpling to the ground as Lisril danced away for sheer safety's sake.
The woman rolled over, dazed and panting, and Lisril approached her, eyeing the saber in her hand and resting her own on the woman’s throat.
She tensed her arm in preparation for the coup de gras, already feeling the rush of the kill.
“Stop! Stop!”
She sneered at the woman. “Saved by the mercy of a man.”
She stepped away, surveying her work, watching the woman’s life essence pour onto the ground. “For however long his mercy lasts you.”
She turned, sheathing her saber, and joining Alex, who rushed to her side, hands framing her cheeks. “You’re okay?”
She laughed and wound her arms around his neck, pulling him into a long, slow, kiss. “Perfectly fine.”
Eli joined them, clapping a hand on Lisril’s shoulder. “Well done,” she said, “a masterful display.”
She bowed her head. “Her magnificence is too kind.”
Eli grinned and turned to Alex, taking his hand and drawing his fingers to her lips. “Thank you for lending me your wife.”
He chuckled. “I had a choice?”
“Of course,” she laughed, “she’s your wife; she needs your consent before she can imperil herself.”
He snorted. “You might have mentioned that earlier.”
Lisril grinned at him. “You would have allowed it regardless,” she said, “you know I had to.”
He took her hand. “Let’s get you in front of a fire before you catch your death.”
She kissed him. “I think I know how you can warm me up.”
She pulled away from him and smirked over her shoulder at Eli. “Would her magnificence care to join us?”
Eli flushed from neck to forehead. “I think We would.”
Lisril grinned at her and was about to say more when a commotion arose from the crowd behind them.
She turned, and a woman broke from the throng, a dagger in hand, and charged them.
Her saber jumped into her hand, and both she and Eli interposed themselves between Alex and the woman. Before they could intercept the woman, though, a member of the honor guard tackled her; a second and third joined her, grabbing the woman’s knife hand, struggling to disarm her, pulling her to the ground.
Rosslln and Serra rushed to their side, joining the protective screen.
The woman fought and thrashed. “She’s been bewitched!” the woman shrieked. “She’ll let that alien lead the empire to ruin!”
Lisril’s grip on her saber tightened, and she took a step toward the woman before Eli’s hand came down on her shoulder. “Let them handle it,” she hissed. “And let's get him inside.”
The guards wrestled the woman to the ground forcing her arm out, and one stamped on her hand, forcing her to release the knife.
Lisril nodded, taking his hand. “She’s right; we should get you out of harm’s way.”
He looked past her to the pinned woman, who still spewed her hate.
Lisril wound her arm around his shoulder. Sheltering him against her bile. “It’s okay,” she said, “don’t listen to her.”
“Just one?” he asked.
She looked around, eyes sliding over the crowd. He had a point; A lone assassin seemed a strange escalation after securing a band of mercenaries.
“All the more reason to get you to safety,” she said, “come on.”
She pulled him close and led him to the coach, flanked by his women and followed by Eli’s remaining guards.
