him. She came to sing to them. A god without worshippers is nothing.
His gaze snapped to Kehlbrand. Having been driven to his knees by the song’s effect, the Mestra-Skeltir now rose unsteadily to his feet. His face was a continually changing mask of black rage and unalloyed fear. Spittle flew from his lips as he gabbled, a hand going to the sabre at his belt.
“No!” Vaelin started forward, the lingering confusion causing him to stumble and fall. He gathered his strength and surged upright, head lowered as he barrelled towards Kehlbrand. But the distance was too great, and the Darkblade’s sabre too swift. It came free of the scabbard in a blur of silver that birthed a blossom of red as it sliced open the throat of the Jade Princess, blood arcing from the wound in a crimson torrent as she collapsed.
Kehlbrand stood staring at the spectacle in apparent shock, oblivious to Vaelin’s charge. He swung a fist as he closed, aiming for the temple, a stunning blow to send the Stahlhast to the ground whereupon Vaelin would claim his sabre and take great satisfaction from driving it deep into his guts.
His fist juddered to a halt less than an inch from Kehlbrand’s temple, Vaelin’s arm jarring with shock as if he had punched a solid wall. He began to raise his other arm but found it rigid and unresponsive, his feet no longer able to gain traction on the ground. It was a sensation he had felt before, back in the tunnels beneath Varinshold and again in the arena at Volar when the Ally revealed his gift. This was the binding touch of a Gifted.
“Don’t kill him!” Kehlbrand said, raising a hand to the artisan who stepped from the crowd. He was portly and middle-aged, otherwise undistinguished but for the rage that dominated his quivering features. Vaelin’s eyes, unconstrained by the binding, roved over the other devotees, finding each face set in the same fury. Her song wasn’t finished, he realised. She tried to take their god away, and failed.
“Such a waste,” Kehlbrand went on, gaze lowered to the Princess’s body. The mingled rage and fear had gone now and he appeared merely sorrowful, his voice possessed of a reflective tone. “It would all have been so much easier with her at my side, for who amongst the Merchant Realms would question the word of one who makes the Jade Princess his queen? Still.” He turned to Vaelin with a half grin. “At least I still have my villain. Obvar!”
The hulking Stahlhast stepped forward, face grave and speaking in a formal tone. “Mestra-Skeltir.”
“This”—Kehlbrand waved a hand at Vaelin’s frozen form—“wretch evidently seduced the Jade Princess with some evil magic and forced her to attack me. He has come here to strike down the Darkblade in accordance with the wicked design of his dread Fire Queen. He is her champion. You are mine. Will you answer this insult?”
Obvar’s gaze settled on Vaelin. Alone amongst the devotees, his features were untouched by rage, his complexion paler than before and eyes possessed of an almost wild cast that made Vaelin ponder what questions the Princess’s song had asked of him. Blinking, he turned back to Kehlbrand and sank to one knee. “I will, Mestra-Skeltir.”
Kehlbrand inclined his head in solemn gratitude before moving closer to Vaelin. The Stahlhast’s fingers stroked his cheek as he whispered, “I told you to touch the stone.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In the Unified Realm, duelling was typically a semi-ritualised business. Seconds were appointed and the precise location, time and nature of the contest agreed. Great care was taken to ensure both parties were identically armed and enjoyed no unfair advantages, although negotiations over the precise terms were known to drag on for days or weeks. On occasion such discussions could become so protracted that one or both of the parties either forgot the suffered insult or decided extracting just retribution wasn’t worth risking their life after all. The Stahlhast, it transpired, had a much less prolonged and elaborate approach to such things.
“No rules,” Luralyn explained. “You get a horse and a blade. So does he. You fight. One dies.”
They stood alongside Sherin on the edge of the encampment of the Cova Skeld, watching the flames consume the body of the Jade Princess. Kehlbrand had given permission for a brief ritual observance of her passing before the duel commenced. Sherin advised that cremation was common amongst the people of the Far West and asserted a pronounced distaste for having the Princess’s remains