The Empty Ones (Fantasy Romance)

52. Liquor and alchemy

The foot soldier is fighting as if possessed. He clearly doesn't have magic, but he is very fast and agile, almost stretching the limits of an empty person.

On the other hand, the fighter from the Dark Esquadron is good too and now he is fighting for his life.

What a waste. And for what? To impress our foreign guests who aren't impressed by such things per se.

I look now at both their faces, they are intrigued, but they don't look at the situation with admiration. My dearest husband, I guess they don't admire cruelty. What an odd thing to see, right?

The fight continues in the loud cheers of the crowd. They are both very engaged. No wonder.

At some point, the soldier trips and Hemix, confidently stepping on his chest, materialises a long stone spear.

"Please don't kill him," I hear myself whisper. It would be such a dumb, futile death.

Hemix is distracted by the cheering crowd. Mute notices and plants his fingers in the shoulder wound.

Hemic cries up and then topples over, pushed by the soldier. He grabs his sword and sits on top of Hemix with the sword at his throat, looking at the Emperor.

"I said kill him," says the Emperor.

The soldier is still hesitating.

"But would this make sense, your Highness?" says Lysander.

The Emperor doesn't answer. Oh. It seems he disregards him because he is a second son.

Thessarion notices and the irritation is open on his face.

"Indeed. It would mean one good soldier less to face the mountain clans. Seems a bit vain and strategically not thought out. Just killing a magic bearing lieutenant..."

That's a good argument, but also an insult.

"Can I ask for one of them as a gift? So they won't kill each other. I take the one who won or the one with magic."

I feel like hugging him. Of course I never would, but it's the first time when I feel someone understands and acts in I way I would, were I born a man with magic and authority.

The Emperor laughs.

I have never seen him laugh this way before. It cannot be good.

It was just two good and logical arguments.

"Or make them switch roles," says Thessarion, smiling a bit of a wicked smile.

The Emperor smiles back. He took the bait. Not really bait; he is offering an intelligent way out without attacking his authority.

"All right, starting tomorrow, they will reverse their duties. Let's move on."

Once the situation was defused, the next fights weren't as controversial, though violent and brutal, but not deadly.

At the end, we step into the feast hall. I feel unwell. The story of the two soldiers now weighs on me too, on top of my actual sadness about the dying mother.

The air feels heavy. I don't want to be here, but I cannot leave, at least not till the moons are in a line.

I retreat a bit further in the royal alcove and try to steady my breath.

Again, a good thing that nobody pays attention to me.

Something seems to have happened up front because there are whispers, and then I turn my head, Lysander walks towards me.

"My lady, you are missing."

"Missing for what?"

"A toast. Come on. We brought liquor from Tajir for that."