I walk through the halls a pace behind Nicholas, both of us silent. My companions are with us – even if they aren’t allowed to join me in the duel itself, I’d have had to use the Bond to order them to stay behind. I didn’t have the heart to do that.

  Just, make sure you don’t step into the duel, no matter what happens, I remind them as the sunlight comes into view through the widely open doors ahead. Remember, you’ll disqualify me if you act on my behalf in any way.

  We won’t let you die, Bastet tells me firmly.

  I won’t let that happen. I’ll yield before then. There’s no point in dying a martyr. Losing the duel would be better than that.

  Then we will not intervene, Bastet promises, everyone else giving more or less begrudging agreement. I nod, relief going through me. At least that’s one worry off my mind.

  We step out into the sunlight and I close my eyes briefly at the feel of it on my face. It’s the first time I’ve been outside in over four days and I was missing fresh air. Sirocco lets out a cry of joy and leaps from my shoulder to spiral into the sky. Her sheer pleasure pulses through the Bond between us and I take a moment to luxuriate in it. It’s nice to have a change from my own feelings of anxiety.

  My other companions don’t seem quite as excited, but then our environment is still very much artificial – the path before us is paved in marble and the few trees and bushes around are trimmed to unnatural perfection.

  The view beyond is beautiful, though – far more attractive to me than this carefully manicured garden. I know Sarran told me that the palace is set partway up a mountain, but it’s only now that I get to actually see it.

  To my right, I look up – and up, and up. The peak of the mountain is hidden from view – we’re too close to its slopes to see past all the bulges and rock formations – but that it’s a mountain and not a particularly tall hill is evident. As I look forward, I see that it’s either the beginning of a range or a lonely peak – I can only see much-shorter hills extending into the distance on this side of things.

  To my left, I see the lower slopes of the mountain, at the foot of which is the city – Crownseat. It’s large – I can tell even if I can only see a fraction of it with the palace itself blocking the view. Whether it’s as large as London, I have no idea. Not based on the fragment that’s visible. Anyway, without any towering skyscrapers, the city skyline is worlds apart from the city I used to know – literally.

  A river emerges from the city and wends its way through the farm lands and plains that extend to the horizon. Smudges which are most likely villages or stands of trees interrupt the rolling landscape, but there are no forests. It could easily be somewhere in Devon were it not for the cries of unfamiliar birds and the palace itself.

  “This way,” Nicholas indicates quietly, leading us off the main pathway and through a set of bushes and trees designed to look like an ornate archway. We turn a corner around an artfully arranged set of boulders to find a circular arena before us. It’s set in the ground, the base at least four metres below the level of the surrounding rock. Benches and steps are carved into the sides of the arena, many already occupied with people coming to watch the duel.

  I swallow. The meeting with King Ionith confirmed what we already knew – that others are thoroughly interested in my performance. Though, I definitely got the impression he thought the outcome was a foregone conclusion. I tried not to take offence, but I have a feeling I was a bit too blunt.

  Certainly, Nicholas thinks so. I’d have probably managed to be more diplomatic if he’d called for me to come at any other time. But three hours before I was due to fight in a duel for which I’ve been training almost sleeplessly for days meant anything more than basic manners was pretty much impossible for me. Anyway, Nicholas theorises that catching me off guard is exactly what Ionith wanted so he was probably expecting it.

  At any rate, he didn’t order me taken to the dungeons, which means I have to fight this duel. At least I managed to get a couple of hours to meditate and recuperate – I decided that actually sleeping was a bad idea since I had such limited time. I also spent some time checking over my equipment and making sure that it’s in perfect condition – if Fell can imbue his weapons and armour with Skills ahead of time, then I can feed mana to my trusty nere-hide and danaris scale combination.

  Nicholas leads our party down the steps. I’m glad that the other nobles are keeping their distance – whether it’s tradition not to interfere with someone about to engage in an honour duel, or that they want to see how it goes before they react, I don’t care. I’m just grateful not to have their distraction. It allows me to get an uninterrupted impression of where I will soon be fighting.

  The arena is not exactly as I was expecting. The floor of it is covered in a layer of sand – that was something I was anticipating, and glad of. It’s so much easier to hide an unexpected rocky obstacle in sand or disrupt footing than in the room where I’ve been practising. The pool of water that curves against part of the wall is a surprise, though. As is the firepit which I see a palace servant tending.

  “Why are those there?” I ask Nicholas quietly, gesturing with my chin. I know that the Romans sometimes had traps in their arena for the unwary to fall into, but these aren’t hidden.

  “It’s to ensure that those who depend on a single element are not unduly disadvantaged,” Nicholas replies just as quietly. I huff – I should have thought of that. It’s always easier to use material which is already present rather than creating it for oneself. And with the sand and air already present, those types of magic-users would otherwise be unfairly advantaged. “You’ll also find that the sand is mixed with fragments of metal.”

  “Good to know,” I murmur, my mind flicking through some possible strategies. I’m going to try to keep my magic use to Earth-Shaping and Flesh-Shaping alone, if I can swing it, but if I only use Metal-Shaping along with Earth-Shaping, it’s possible no one will notice that the metal fragments are combined with the Earth ones.

  We reach the last tier before the arena. There, Nicholas pauses. He turns and looks at me seriously.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Once the duel starts, no one is allowed onto the floor of the arena except for the challengers until one of the challengers cries yield or the duel is called because its outcome is obvious. However, I am here – if you yield and Heir Fell does not respect it, I will step in. But only if you cry yield.”

  “Thanks,” I tell him, grateful for the promise despite the warning. At least I’m not entirely on my own. And Nicholas stepping in is probably better than my Bound doing so.

  I take a deep breath.

  “So, I just go down there, then?”

  “Yes. Heir Fell should not be too much longer – it is only a few flickers until noon. He has a quartermark to arrive; if not, the duel will be called in your favour.”

  I nod, then stroke each of my Bound one more time, Ninja flinching briefly at my touch and then pressing desperately into it a moment later. Bastet and Lathani both rub their heads on me while Fenrir gives me a venom-laced lick. I appreciate the thought, if not the actual gesture. Even Sirocco swoops down to receive a caress of her own.

  “Your bird will need to remain grounded,” Nicholas warns me. I look over to see him grimacing. “It’s known that some Tamers are capable of seeing through their Bonded’s eyes. You do not wish for there to be any accusation that you brought her into the fight with you by doing so.”

  “I see.” Since I can see through Sirocco’s eyes, I suppose I understand his point. Sorry about that, I tell her regretfully. She replies with wistful longing to fly. I promise, if we can stay out here longer after the duel, we will, and you can fly then. Even if we have to go inside again directly after, I’ll sneak out later with you if I must.

  Fine, she agrees sulkily. If you don’t stick to your promise, I’m going to drop a rock on your head when we next get out.

  The threat has the reverse effect that she was probably intending – instead of feeling cowed by it, amusement bubbles up in my chest at the image. Though she’s got an extra pair of legs, she could easily be the rock-carrying bird from a game one of my colleagues complained about.

  Thanks Sirocco, I tell her affectionately. I needed that. The amusement has cut through my nerves and relaxed me a little. She harumphs, but settles easily enough on the stone bench, a hint of smugness coming from her. Was it intentional?

  Taking a deep breath, I head down the final steps and onto the sands. The moment both of my feet are settled on the arena floor, all sound cuts off from around me. I stop short, looking around with perhaps a little too much surprise showing.

  I can still see the people in the benches, but they are hazy, a barrier between me and them. I use Inspect Item, focussing on the barrier itself. Thankfully, the rank-up to Novice has made the Skill slightly useful.

  That makes sense – an honour duel ending in injuries among the spectators isn’t the best of situations.

  I pace towards the centre, doing my best to ignore all the eyes that I can feel fixed on me, even if they aren’t fully visible from the interior of the barrier. I can’t allow my audience to push me off my game – this is going to be difficult enough. Reaching my target spot, I pull my chosen weapon out of my Inventory. It’s a spear that Nicholas gave me only a day and a half ago, and it’s taken some time to get fully used to its slightly longer reach and weight.

  Apparently, its enchantments are simple but even stronger for that: according to Nicholas, its blade will never dull and its shaft will never break or be cut through. Never seems a bit of a tall order, but he seemed quietly confident in it. While in some ways it’s disappointing that it doesn’t have some ability to shoot lightning into my opponent or something awesome like that, I suppose that it would have taken me more time than I had to build that into my fighting style.

  While I wait for my opponent to arrive, I decide to start infusing the earth below with mana while entering Medium Meditation to increase my mana regeneration rate – I checked but Nicholas’ bafflement at the idea indicated that it’s unlikely to be against the rules. After all, how can there be a rule against something that no one else knows about? Though it’s possible I’m making an erroneous assumption here – Nicholas isn't a mage by his own words. Still, I have to do something.

  Due to the mana I’ve sunk into the ground, I feel it when Heir Fell arrives. I’d know anyway – the moment he steps fully onto the arena, I hear the clinking of his armour. I open my eyes and look calmly at my opponent – between Sirocco and my meditation, I’m feeling centred and ready for the fight. Win or lose, all I can do is my best. If I have to yield, I will. Everyone knows this fight is stacked against me.

  Heir Fell looks grim but determined. He has a helm in one hand so his face is bare and his other hand is clenched around the hilt of his sword. His blade is strapped in a sheath at his waist – I wonder for a moment why it’s not in his Inventory. As I was expecting, his armour is a mixture of leather and chainmail, offering him flexibility as well as protection. It must be fairly heavy though – he’s got his Strength to at least twenty, that’s for sure.

  He gazes towards me and I’m surprised when he bows appropriately. I quickly return the gesture with a nod. I wonder what he's been doing in the last three and a half days – has he been preparing like me, or does he think, as the King does, that this fight will be a walk in the park for him?

  “Challengers!” The voice cuts across the arena as a palace administrator in blue steps onto the sands. I fix my eyes on him even as I keep track of Fell’s quiet movements through the arena with my magic sense.

  “You are present for an honour duel under the terms of non-ranged weapons and exterior Skills only. Lord Valence, Heir of House Fell, has called the duel for an insult he claims was dealt to him. The defendant is Lord Markus, Heir of House Titanbend, who has neither confirmed nor denied the charge. He has, however, agreed of his own will to defend his honour.

  “If Heir Fell wins, he may demand recompense for the insult from House Titanbend. If Heir Titanbend wins, he may demand recompense for the accusation and for the duel itself from House Fell.

  “The duel continues until one challenger yields, is rendered unconscious, or dies. If both are knocked unconscious, the fight will resume once one awakes and demonstrates the ability to kill his opponent, though striking the final blow is not required. If both die in a single attack, the one who delivered the final blow will be named the victor, with rewards going to his House.

  “A neutral healer is present, however, aid will only be given once the duel ends.

  “Does either of the challengers wish to forfeit now, conceding victory to his opponent?”

  I stay silent. So does Fell. He slips on his helm with a decisive movement. I wonder if his fingers are shaking slightly or if I’m fooling myself.

  “Very well. Both challengers stand back to back.” We obey silently. I feel the knot of nerves return to my belly. “Since this is a duel for non-ranged weapons, I will count to three. On each count, each challenger must take a single step forwards. On three, the duel commences. Any questions?”

  Silence stretches.

  “One.

  “Two.

  “Three.”

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