challenge.”
A voice broke her from her reverie, and she focused on the speaker. Murmurs ran through the Chi’lan — there had not been a challenger in over five hundred years. Lachlei turned to see Kieran from the High Council step forward.
“I challenge her blood-right,” he said, his silver eyes narrowing.
Lachlei met the man’s gaze. “You challenge me?” she asked. Despite Laewynd’s threats and her earlier fears, she had not expected a challenge — especially from one of the Council members. But Laewynd had not said the Council vote was unanimous. Indeed, it did not have to be — Fialan had won the crown through a simple majority.
The thought of fighting another Chi’lan dismayed Lachlei. She now considered her opponent.
Kieran was an older warrior, loyal to Fialan, but Lachlei knew little about him, save that he had been in Fialan’s guard. He wore an older-style scale hauberk and his broadsword was made from darkened steel. One eye was glass-blue — cloudy — from an injury sustained long ago. Kieran steeled his jaw as he spoke. “It is my right as Chi’lan ,” he said. “Regardless of whether I am first-blood.”
Lachlei glanced at Cahal, who nodded grimly. That was technically true — any Chi’lan had the right to challenge for kingship. She saw Rhyn’s eyes harden.
“That is your right, Kieran,” she agreed. “But, I would ask you to reconsider.”
“Does Fialan’s consort fear a fight?” the warrior replied. “Or has the trappings of royalty dulled your skills?”
Murmurs ran through the Chi’lan . Lachlei smiled slightly. “No, but evidently my appointment has sharpened your tongue,” she replied. “I suspect it is sharper than your sword.”
Laewynd stood between them. “Is this an official challenge?”
Kieran drew his sword. “It is.”
Laewynd looked at Lachlei. “Do you accept?”
Lachlei drew Fyren . Cahal pulled her aside, concern in his eyes. “Lachlei,” he whispered. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Lachlei took a deep breath. It would be a fight to the death or unless a contender yielded. “Why is he challenging me?” she whispered back. “I thought the Chi’lan were all of one mind.”
“Kieran challenges because of Laewynd,” Rhyn replied as he stood beside her. “He was the dissenting vote in the Council. There are those who believe you would be a pawn for the Council.”
Lachlei frowned. “A pawn?” She met his gaze. “Do others believe that?”
“Some,” admitted Cahal. “But I am not one of them.”
Lachlei turned to Rhyn. “Do you believe that?”
“I believe you will be Rhyn’athel’s champion,” the god replied. “I believe you are Chi’lan .”
She met his steady gaze and smiled. “Yes,” she shouted so all could hear. “I accept the challenge!”
Cheers ran through the crowd. She turned away, and felt Rhyn grip her arm.
Kieran is blind in his left eye, Rhyn informed her in mindspeak. He’s very strong, but not as fast — use that to your advantage.
Lachlei nodded. She crouched into a defensive position, holding Fyren ready. The warriors began to bang their weapons against their shields in time. Kieran dropped into a defensive position and they circled slowly, gauging each other. Lachlei kept her breathing measured. Time seemed to slow as she studied her adversary. Kieran was not only a seasoned warrior, but also much heavier and stronger. He had at least fifty pounds on her, and his height left her at a disadvantage. She would have to either hang back and wait for an opening or press her attack and risk taking a hit.
She could see in Kieran’s good eye that he too was weighing potential strategies. He had her at a disadvantage, but he knew she was Chi’lan trained. He circled and feinted, trying to draw her in. Lachlei backed away slightly. She took another breath and focused now — the roar from the Chi’lan , the beating of the weapons, everything was gone, save she and Kieran.
Without warning
A voice broke her from her reverie, and she focused on the speaker. Murmurs ran through the Chi’lan — there had not been a challenger in over five hundred years. Lachlei turned to see Kieran from the High Council step forward.
“I challenge her blood-right,” he said, his silver eyes narrowing.
Lachlei met the man’s gaze. “You challenge me?” she asked. Despite Laewynd’s threats and her earlier fears, she had not expected a challenge — especially from one of the Council members. But Laewynd had not said the Council vote was unanimous. Indeed, it did not have to be — Fialan had won the crown through a simple majority.
The thought of fighting another Chi’lan dismayed Lachlei. She now considered her opponent.
Kieran was an older warrior, loyal to Fialan, but Lachlei knew little about him, save that he had been in Fialan’s guard. He wore an older-style scale hauberk and his broadsword was made from darkened steel. One eye was glass-blue — cloudy — from an injury sustained long ago. Kieran steeled his jaw as he spoke. “It is my right as Chi’lan ,” he said. “Regardless of whether I am first-blood.”
Lachlei glanced at Cahal, who nodded grimly. That was technically true — any Chi’lan had the right to challenge for kingship. She saw Rhyn’s eyes harden.
“That is your right, Kieran,” she agreed. “But, I would ask you to reconsider.”
“Does Fialan’s consort fear a fight?” the warrior replied. “Or has the trappings of royalty dulled your skills?”
Murmurs ran through the Chi’lan . Lachlei smiled slightly. “No, but evidently my appointment has sharpened your tongue,” she replied. “I suspect it is sharper than your sword.”
Laewynd stood between them. “Is this an official challenge?”
Kieran drew his sword. “It is.”
Laewynd looked at Lachlei. “Do you accept?”
Lachlei drew Fyren . Cahal pulled her aside, concern in his eyes. “Lachlei,” he whispered. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
Lachlei took a deep breath. It would be a fight to the death or unless a contender yielded. “Why is he challenging me?” she whispered back. “I thought the Chi’lan were all of one mind.”
“Kieran challenges because of Laewynd,” Rhyn replied as he stood beside her. “He was the dissenting vote in the Council. There are those who believe you would be a pawn for the Council.”
Lachlei frowned. “A pawn?” She met his gaze. “Do others believe that?”
“Some,” admitted Cahal. “But I am not one of them.”
Lachlei turned to Rhyn. “Do you believe that?”
“I believe you will be Rhyn’athel’s champion,” the god replied. “I believe you are Chi’lan .”
She met his steady gaze and smiled. “Yes,” she shouted so all could hear. “I accept the challenge!”
Cheers ran through the crowd. She turned away, and felt Rhyn grip her arm.
Kieran is blind in his left eye, Rhyn informed her in mindspeak. He’s very strong, but not as fast — use that to your advantage.
Lachlei nodded. She crouched into a defensive position, holding Fyren ready. The warriors began to bang their weapons against their shields in time. Kieran dropped into a defensive position and they circled slowly, gauging each other. Lachlei kept her breathing measured. Time seemed to slow as she studied her adversary. Kieran was not only a seasoned warrior, but also much heavier and stronger. He had at least fifty pounds on her, and his height left her at a disadvantage. She would have to either hang back and wait for an opening or press her attack and risk taking a hit.
She could see in Kieran’s good eye that he too was weighing potential strategies. He had her at a disadvantage, but he knew she was Chi’lan trained. He circled and feinted, trying to draw her in. Lachlei backed away slightly. She took another breath and focused now — the roar from the Chi’lan , the beating of the weapons, everything was gone, save she and Kieran.
Without warning
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