The Rogue Guardian

Chapter 46: Jaden's Secret-Keeper

Xalva.

The last time I'd seen him, he'd come to kill Magali and ran into me instead. I'd defeated him-- but this was different.

Xalva had been an assassin in Roman's court. Apparently he'd deserted, but he'd played this game before. This was his home.

And there was no time to figure out why he'd been following me or how Nemia had known.

Roman settled into his chair with a self-satisfied smile. "Remember, you two. It's a speed duel. Give us a show, will you?" A dagger appeared in his hand as if by magic and he spun it over his fingers once. "When this blade hits the target, the duel begins. You know how it ends."

To the death.

Roman drew the dagger back.

I whipped my head around, saw the wooden target on the opposite side from Roman's throne. I had no doubt he'd hit dead center. My eyes went to the rope knot around my wrist. So that was why Tori had used rope. It was supposed to be hard to cut through, to make us panic, to make reaching those weapons in the middle of the court and the opponent at the other end a challenge.

As I'd told Tori, rope ties were also easier to escape from.

I had a split second to make my decision before I head the whoosh of Roman's dagger splitting the air and a thump as it buried itself in the target.

Ice filled my veins.

Even as I took a deep breath I could see Xalva in the corner of my eye already sawing at his rope, his face full of deadly intensity. I gripped my knife tight but I made no move to cut at the rope. Instead I readied myself for the pain, and dropped.

The muscles in my shoulders pulled as my knees buckled, but the iron ring I was tied to held me up. I grit my teeth as the rough fibers of the rope dug into the skin of my wrist, felt it burn as it slid up around the widest part of my hand.

There was gasp, somewhere. Someone knew what I was doing.

I took another deep breath and kept forcing myself to the ground, fighting for the loop of rope to give. It was rubbing away my skin. I couldn't think about what I was doing to my hand.

You've got two, I told myself as I felt blood trickle down my wrist. I summoned all of my strength and yanked my hand out, letting out a scream as the rope tore off.

Noise rippled across the courtyard as I stumbled out of the alcove, gasps and yells, and I knew I was first.

Not letting myself consider the pain I was in, I burst into a sprint, bent low to scoop up another dagger I could barely hold in my ruined hand, before I crashed into Xalva.

I registered the shock on his face, the fact that he was just pulling his hand from the last strands of rope. There was blood. Steel. Skin.

I'd never done this. I'd never killed someone.

He had a dagger.

Mine was quicker.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat silently, staring down at my bandaged hand. I hadn't looked at it as Roman's healer took care of it, or at Roman's face as he beckoned me onto that stage and told me to face the crowd.

"Morane Laerhart," he'd told them, "Is now an assassin of this court."

Blood was splattered on my boots. It was still there now, though they'd found me clean clothes. They may have been Tori's. She hadn't stopped staring at me as she brought me to Roman's receiving room. I don't think anyone had expected me to emerge from the courtyard alive.