Legacy of the Crown

20

"Center field!"  

Coming to a stop, I bend down and hold my knees to catch my breath. After my falter earlier, I ran just as hard as all the men around me. They were well trained to be able to run miles around the field and still have some breath. 

Walking to the center were Commander Aspen stood, I took in the men around me more. The kings personal guard was made up of ten men and now one woman. They were all well-built and by the dull gleam in their eyes as they looked at me, I knew they had blood on their hands and heart. 

We began to form a circle around Commander Aspen, who stood with an air of authority. Two men walked up behind me while the others surrounded me from both sides. They were trying to intimidate me. I felt their eyes on me as Commander Aspen cleared his throat. 

"We have a new guardsman. I am sure you all have noticed," Commander Aspen stated. A man with a red beard and crossed tattooed arms snorted and said, "She doesn't belong here." The rest of the men chuckled at his comment. I didn't look at those laughing only stared into the eyes of the red bearded man. "Trust me men, she has enough skill to be in this guard," Commander Aspen's sharp tone rang out.

"Hardly. Look at her. She may have some skill, but not enough to be in this rank," one of the men behind me states. Commander Aspen looks at me before nodding his head behind him at what looks to be a sparing pit. "Why don't you see for yourself Jensen. Fight her." Jensen pushes past me, knocking shoulder and walks past Commander Aspen to the sparing pit.

This was a good chance to show my skills. To show them that I was not one to prey on while I was here. Notching my head high, I follow after Jensen who stood twirling his sword in the pit. Jensen was not bulky like most of the men, but lean. He could move fast on his feet then. He had a clean-shaven face just like Berkly and wore his dark hair in a bun. His stance was one of someone who fought regularly. From the way his eyes studied me as I pulled my staff from behind me told me he was studying me just as much as I was him.

Commander Aspen and the other guards surround the pit and watch intently. Some of them pass coin around, no doubt betting on the outcome of this match.  Looking back at Jensen and the sand beneath his feet reminded me of just how similar this was to what Jaron made us do once every month. Images of blood pooling beneath my knees and the swords through my comrade's chest flashed through my head. I gripped my staff in my hand till my knuckles turned white and looked at Jensen who in turn looked at me with nothing but pure belief he was going to win. I remember that look on King Costello's when I had no choice but to say yes to his demands. That was the problem of men these days.

They underestimate others in their confidence of themselves.

"First one held at a death position loses," Commander Aspen states and Jensen and I began to circle each other. I let all my torment and hate build in me as I twirl my staff. I let all that has happen to me, all that has thrown my world off balance and ruined my life more than it already was seep into my resolve to win this fight.

My ears pop harder than they ever had before in a fight and pure silence greets me. It felt as if time slowed and I felt everything. I hear the breath Jensen takes and see the muscles pull in his bicep as he goes to swing his sword. His sword glints just like the swords that pierced the chest of my comrades before I could anything to help. I felt something snap in my chest and swept my staff out so fast and hard that Jensen could not see it coming as it sent his sword flying out of his hands and out of the pit. His eyes flew wide and met mine in surprise. His face didn't hold that look for longer than a second before I landed a hard high kick straight to his head. He fell in a heap and didn't get back up. Sound came rushing back to my ears and a sharp pain lanced through my chest. It took everything in me to stay still and not the hunch over.

What the hell was that?

"Someone get him back to his bed and when he wakes tell him to muck the stables," Commander Aspen tells the wide eyed men around him. They now looked at me with a more calculative eye. Meeting Commander Aspen's eyes he says, "This is Hazle Reshsa. Yes, the assassin we have been trying to catch for three years. Our King has placed her in this guard and I fully trust in his judgement. Anyone who has a problem with her presence should take it up with the King." A few of the men sneer and others raise their eyebrows. One with black shoulder length hair chuckles. "Now go about your duties. Hazel stay here."

Slowly the guardsmen disperse, leaving me and Commander Aspen alone. Facing him he says, "I was not expecting such fury from you in that fight. You must have turmoil in your heart." If only he knew how true that was. When I don't respond he continues, "I would show you what your duties as a king's personal guard would be like, but General Layto request you see him at once. Up the stairs and down the left hall. The doors at the end lead to my study. You will find him there. Do not keep him waiting." He then turns and walks away toward the men practice sparing with no other words to me. 

General Layto. The man who led King Costello's armies in the old war between the fae and humans. He killed millions. Unease spread through my chest. Am I going to find out what the King wants from me? What I supposedly can find. The faster I know, the faster I can plan to twist it. 

Walking up the steps and down the hall I felt some relief at the fact I wouldn't be seeing the King himself. Commander Aspen only said General Layto. If the King was to be present, he would have said. I do not believe I would be able to hold myself back from cutting Kings Costello's throat open if he was to be here.

A raven's cry pierced through my thoughts and had me pulling my dagger from my boot in a rush. A black raven sat on the sill of a window watching me with fluttering wings that became more rapid till he flew of in a hurry. After a few calming breaths I sheath my dagger back into my boot and continued down the hall.  

Approaching the end of the hall, I spot the oak wood doors with iron hinges and handles. Without hesitation and a quick prayer to the seven gods, I pull open a door and come face to face with an old man in brown robes, not the general. A sharp pain cuts through the back of my head before I could see the person coming up from behind me and then all faded into darkness.

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