Bloodguard

chapter 30

Leith

I race the distance back to the manor on horseback.

My muscles ache and burn. Sweat drips from my brow, and nausea pitches into my throat. Pain is my companion. Pain and terror, because every second away from Maeve is one in which she is surrounded by enemies.

“Jakeb!”

I scream his name twice more to be heard over the colorful explosions that are visible even from this distance.

He rushes out of the manor toward the gates, Neela close on his heels and Giselle just behind. Her eyes are glowing with odd light.

“It’s Maeve,” I say between heaving breaths. “She’s joined the memorial parade. She’ll be at the castle by now.”

Jakeb moves with unnatural speed. He’s across the yard and slamming into the stables in a blink. I hear the moon horses startle and whinny.

“Is she all right, Leith?” Giselle’s body is shaking. Ripples of multicolored sparks spray from her hands. Her eyes are a blend of swirling hues. I think I understand the need for the gloves now.

I instinctively take a step back.

“Giselle!” Caelen yells.

His harsh tone seems to ground her. Her eyes blink rapidly before turning into liquid honey again.

“She wasn’t in any immediate danger.” I relay what we saw and how Vitor made a spectacle of showing himself as some kind of ruler supreme.

Giselle lets loose a string of curses.

We mount as soon as Jakeb returns with the horses, and Star launches into a run before I can even reposition myself. I grab the reins and lean against her neck, my legs tightening to keep my seat.

“I told her not to go.” Giselle overtakes me on the right. She’s riding faster than the rest of us, her small frame looking even slighter atop the spotted moon horse. “But oh no, no one ever listens to me!”

It’s not long before we’re back in the city, rose petals and red ribbons strewn on the streets.

When I glance back over my shoulder, I see more of Jakeb’s house riding to catch up. Pega, the groundskeeper, and several of the guards who are stationed at the manor gates join us.

We follow the path the parade took, which is easy to see from the stragglers and trail of flowers.

As the castle comes into sight, Jakeb yells, “Halt!” which causes our horses to stop so short, my face nearly rams into Star’s neck.

Maeve stands before the castle gates, beside Vitor.

Her face is bright and joyous, smiling.

The night sky pulses with bursts of magic and color, and the crowd claps and cheers, some of them chanting Maeve’s name.

My face heats. I’ve rallied her family and we’ve raced here as if her life hung in the balance, but she’s not in danger. She’s laughing and grinning with her “uncle.”

I lower my head. “I, uh…”

Jakeb lays a hand on my shoulder. “You made the right call, Leith.”

Giselle edges her horse back toward mine. “Last time we participated in the Memorial of the Phoenix, it was not so pleasant, was it, Father?”

“No,” Jakeb says. “They booed and heckled us. Maeve cried for days.”

I imagine the crowd treating Maeve with such open hostility and derision, and it makes me violent.

“Everyone was upset in the aftermath of the trial,” Giselle explains.

“It was a good lesson for all of us,” Jakeb says.

For me, it’s just one more glimpse into Maeve’s character.

In the arena, I’m jeered. It’s common for the bettors to do that—they’re looking for any advantage they can gain. But that doesn’t make their words any less hurtful. I act like I’m impervious, but any gladiator will tell you, we hate the crowds. Whether they’re for us or against us, we’re just a thing to them. The crowds don’t care about the harm they inflict. They just want to win. And nobody deserves to die with such cruel taunts in their ears.

“Stop growling, Leith,” Giselle tells me. “You’re starting to sound like him.”

She jerks her head toward Caelen, who merely grunts.

“My daughter could’ve hidden behind those high walls.” Jakeb points to the castle. “But she didn’t. At great risk to herself, Maeve made it a point to regain the trust of the community.” He inclines his head to where Maeve basks in the adoration of Arrow. “She took a chance.”

I nod. “And it paid off.”

There are tears in Jakeb’s eyes when he turns back to me. “Yes, it did.”

We say nothing for several minutes.

Giselle is the first to break the silence. “Caelen, I’m in the mood for a jug of ale.”

He sighs. “Of course you are.”

She turns to her gladiator. “Pega, dearest, I imagine you’re parched, too.”

Pega looks between me and Giselle. “I could use a wee bit of ale to wet my mouth. It was a rough ride here.”

The three of them move off while I remain behind with Jakeb and the guards.

I keep my hood drawn and my gaze on Maeve. It takes a while, but my heart rate gradually settles. As the overwhelming sense of dread fades, I find myself wanting to smile.

Maeve has done it.

She’s won over the people of Arrow with kindness and hope.

The same as she did with me.

“Hi-ho, Bloodguard,” a voice calls. We pivot our horses as a dwarf approaches. He has wealth. It’s evident in his clothes and bearing and in the way he holds out his hand to Jakeb as if they’re equals.

“Lord Kaysoon.” Jakeb clasps the dwarf’s hand and then makes some symbol with his fingers before lifting his arms skyward.

I look around nervously. Last thing I need is to draw attention. My leg feels like it’s been ripped off and used to clobber my arm.

Despite the time I’ve spent in Maeve’s care, I’m not fully recovered. Between the venom and the deep wounds to my legs and my slow progress at regaining full mobility in my left hand, I may never be.

“I’d hoped to see your next two bouts,” the dwarf tells me. “It’s been a long time since a gladiator of your ilk made it to the last matches. Hoped that other fighter, the one from Witoria, would’ve won, too. I’ve been tracking his career for years. A fine fighter, he made.”

Sullivan.

“Are you heading out?” Jakeb asks, sparing me from having to answer.

Kaysoon nods. “Things are…changing. Tensions are running high, both in Libur and among the other realms.”

Jakeb nods solemnly. “May the lands be replenished and peace prevail.”

Kaysoon makes that odd hand gesture again. “We, too, pray for peace.” He gives me a short nod, then offers one last parting bit of advice to Jakeb. “But prayers go unanswered. Preparedness wins wars. Keep a close eye on the princess. I fear for her safety, and she cannot fall…”