Preserving the Ingenairii (63 page)

“Go in the office parlor on the left, and stay there,” the guard told Alec, who waved his thanks and strode to his assigned place.
 
He sat in a chair that allowed him to watch the main door as well as look into a different hallway where people of the clan walked back-and-forth.

Alec gave a gasp and turned to look out the window, keeping his back to the people in the house.
 
Limping along through the hallway, with a man on each shoulder to help him walk, was the man Alec had hamstrung the night before on the emperor’s veranda.
 
The injured man walked past Alec’s room, and Alec only gave a sigh of relief when he heard the sound of the limp fade down the hallway.

“Healer?
 
You look like you’ve had a rough night.
 
What’d you do with that gold Master Kirill gave you last night?” Crebben said as he walked in with an armful of red cloth.

Alec gave his waistband a hitch and sounded a coarse laugh.

“I didn’t have you pegged as a tomcat,” Crebben gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder.
 
“Here are your robes for the tournament tomorrow.
 
You need to arrive
early,
we’ve put you in our last spot, so you have to qualify to fight.
 
Anything you can win is one less opponent we’ll have to deal with in later rounds.

“We could use a little cheer; things didn’t go well for the house last night, so you do your best.
 
I’ll see you at the gate tomorrow?” he asked.

“Good,” he said in response to Alec’s nod.
 
“I like the fact you don’t waste a lot of time on chitchat.
 
Now, if you’ll excuse me, we’ve got some things to clean up here.
 
You just help yourself out, okay?” Crebben said and he left the room without waiting for an answer.

If Scarle had a hand in the attempt to capture the emperor the previous night, Alec was sure there were unpleasant ramifications they were trying to figure out.
 
It would be perilous to be publicly recognized as such a staunch enemy of the emperor, unless and until they were successful in overthrowing him.
 
He decided he would prefer not to spend any more time there than necessary and slipped quietly out the door then walked quickly up the drive and out the gate.

Alec remembered the part of town Rief had taken him to when he was last in Michian, a place with street side cafes and indolent bath houses.
 
It seemed a likely neighborhood for a small, discreet inn, so he set his feet walking towards the west side of the city.
 
He found such a place quickly, a quiet inn with rooms that looked out over the street in front.
 
Alec paid for a night in advance, went to his room to drop off most of his weapons, then went to a bath house and rented a room for an hour, something that caused him to receive suspicious looks.
  
Alec knew that in Michian the bath houses were little more than houses of ill-repute, but he wanted to relax and clean himself in the large tub of hot water, and he did so without incident.

He remembered his time with Rief in that neighborhood, still amused by Rief’s reaction when he had forced the growth of a tongue to end his mute status, and talked to her for the first time.
 
Satisfied that he was clean enough, he stopped at a bakery for a loaf of bread, got a skin of berry juice, and went back to his room, where he rested and stayed out of sight until the next morning.

He had no sooner
laid
down in his bed to sleep and pinched out his candle than he heard the door open.
 
Startled, he rolled over to see the outline of a woman’s body in front of the hallway light, and then the door closed.

“Who is it?
 
Who are you?
 
Why are you here?” he asked.
 
He reached for his powers, but couldn’t grasp them.
 
His sword and knives were draped across the back of a chair on the other side of the room, and then he felt the bed sag, and the woman sat on the mattress.

“Don’t worry, Alec, it’s me,” he heard Bethany’s voice whisper.

What?
 
Who are you?” Alec was startled, scared by such an impossible situation.

“I’m Bethany.
 
I’m a water ingenaire,” she said playfully.

Alec started to cry.
 
“Who are you?
 
What are you doing here?” he asked again.

The girl reached over and hugged him, and Alec inhaled the same scent of fragrance and water that would forever be associated in his memory with his beloved.

“I know you loved me, Alec.
 
I know you didn’t want to let me die back there in the palace, but it was time for me to have my reward, my love,” she said gently as she hugged him.
 
He raised his arms and embraced her firmly.

“You can go on with your life, and it won’t hurt me.
 
You won’t dishonor me if you love this girl.
 
I know you wouldn’t play false with her heart, and I know she could only be the best-hearted of women if she has appealed to you,” the Bethany figure told him.

“Does she have a good heart?” the other presence in the room asked him.

“She does, Beth; she does.
 
She doesn’t even know how good she is, but I’ve felt it.
 
Even when we were back on the beach and I didn’t have my powers, I knew she was good,” Alec whispered through his tears.

“She feels right to me.
 
I know you can protect her and help her to grow, and she can be the partner and friend you need,” Bethany told him.
 
“I would have been those things for you, if circumstances had allowed, and I know we would have been blissfully happy.
 
I’m sorry we didn’t have that chance, but you deserve another opportunity,” she whispered.

“Bethany.
 
Why are you here?” Alec asked.

“Because you need to hear this.
 
Because you can’t consume yourself with guilt, or miss this opportunity to save and love Jeswyne, and to let her love you.
 
I’m gone Alec, and all I want in this world now is for you to find happiness.
 
You’ve earned it after all you did for everyone.
 

“They all came to see me over the years, so many friends you made – Cassie and Appel and Faldor and always Rief, and Durer and Noranda and Moriah and Nathaniel.
 
They all shared their love for you with me, Alec,” Bethany told him.
 
“And I was lucky to have so many friends help me and love me and support me.

“Now it’s finally your turn to have love Alec.
 
Do the right things, and enjoy the rewards this time.
 
I think you’re finally nearing the end of your calling from God, and you can finally live the normal life of a five-marked ingenairii, demon-slaying king!” she leaned into him in the darkness, and he felt her lips on the top of his head.

He raised his head, and realized he was lying flat in his bed, hugging his pillow tightly, with thin strips of sunlight shining in through the window.
 
Was it a dream?
 
He looked at the strands of long blonde hair twined around his fingers, and sighed a deep sigh.
 
It had felt like a benediction, and he stewed over its meaning as he lay upon his mattress.

After he rose and dressed, Alec went down to the desk and paid for the next night at the inn, then left his white robes and extra blades in his room so that he could walk across town to the tournament grounds, joining a streaming throng that was heading to the opening rounds of the games.
 
Crebben was waiting and confirmed Alec’s registration for the officials, who inspected his blade and allowed him to enter.
 
“Remember, every victory you win is one less opponent we’ll have later.
 
Kirill says that if you make it past the second round there will be bonuses; the more you win, the bigger the bonus,” Crebben told him.
 
“It’ll be a lot more than you make juggling blades, and the house might do more for you if things go right.”

Alec smiled a tight smile and nodded, then headed inside, where he found another official offering direction.
 
“Scarle preliminaries?
 
Are you Healer?” he asked.
 
Alec nodded.
 
“You’ll be in pen one – first match of the day.
 
Congratulations.
 
Now hurry, you don’t want to hold things up.”

When Alec got to his pen, an official was inspecting and marking blades.
 
Another was speaking to the multiple men who stood in the space.
 
“We’ve got eight men here; only two of you will advance, so keep that in mind.”
 
Two wore Canare colors, one wore Indige colors, and the others wore the stripes and checks of minor clans.

“Last one to arrive will be the first one out, Scarle.
 
We all agreed,” one of the other combatants told Alec.
 
Grim faces nodded agreement all around him.
 
He took a deep breath, but bit back a retort, then shrugged and turned his back on them all to look out the barred window at the sandy grounds of the tournament field.
 
The ring was roped off at the standard twenty five foot width; it would be crowded with eight men swinging swords.

“Pen one.
 
Pen one, move out,” an official nearby called, and men trooped over to the doorway.
 
“Remember, first event of the day, salute the emperor’s box,” the official mumbled to each fighter.
 
All the men entered the ring and turned in unison to bow to the emperor’s box, then moved to the center and placed the tips of their swords together.
 
“Three, two one,” an official nearby counted slowly, “Go.”

Alec saw a blade tip rise up towards his chin and felt another one slice across his forearm as he threw himself backwards and somersaulted further towards the edge of the ring.
 
He stood and flipped the sword from his left to his right hand as he looked at the circle of swordsmen.
 
One of them had already fallen victim of another’s stroke, intentional or not, but the rest were facing him.

Alec looked at the gash on his left arm.
 
It felt painful and blood was flowing freely from it.
 
He took a breath and engaged his healing power to repair the muscle and stop the flow of blood.
 
Mercifully, the pain of using his energy was diminished after a night’s rest, and he used only a second’s worth of energy to fix his arm and drop his healing abilities to concentrate on the fight.

Three men stepped forward towards Alec while three others fought among themselves in the other portion of the ring.
 
To be in this portion of the tournament meant that these fighters weren’t likely to be highly skilled, Alec reasoned.
 
He watched them carefully,
then
attacked the one on his right who had separated himself by the greatest distance.
 
Alec feinted then struck blade on blade with his sword, hitting at an upward angle that produced the result he wanted – the sword flew from his opponent’s hand.
 
Alec drove his shoulder into the unprepared man and continued his momentum towards the blade that lay on the ground, picking it up and advancing on the other two men with a blade in either hand now.

The unarmed man scurried out of the ring, and Alec attacked his other two opponents, both from Canare, with vigor, jabbing and slicing with his best mortal abilities, until he bested them both and left them on the ground, bleeding from numerous small wounds.

Turning to the other group of warriors, he saw that only one was still standing, someone from a minor house whose colors were yellow, white and red stripes.
 
The match was over, with Alec and the other survivor ready to move on to the next round.

“You didn’t really belong with this lot, did you?” an official said as Alec walked out of the ring.
 
Alec shook his head.
 
“You’ll need to surrender that extra sword you know.
 
You don’t get to start every match with two,” the man said with a grin.
 
“Be back in an hour for your first real match.”
 
Alec grinned back and handed him the sword, then continued out of the entry hall and walked out of the arena to sit against a tree trunk and collect his thoughts.