A HENRY STORY 2: Trials Of The Fallen Prince

XLII. Reckoning

Amidst the flickering flames of the braziers, a large, black flier dropped in the center of the sandy arena. Every gnawer in the now thinly populated ranks froze in their tracks—as did the imposing form of Longclaw, who had just sauntered into the center.

All the concerns he and Thanatos had gone over flashed in Henry's mind—about Tonguetwist intervening, about Longclaw not playing along. Yet he refused to let himself be ruled by fear. They would face the demons of their past together, in the very place where they had once been set up to fight each other to the death. And so it would all end . . . It was time for their reckoning.

"I greet you," called Henry as he slid off Thanatos' back and took one step toward Longclaw, who sat on his haunches, watching him keenly. He focused, taking in this place, which he had once known so well, and realized that the number of gnawers around them had increased. They were surrounded, yet . . . A smile played on Henry's lips. This crowd was his; it had always been. "I hear you were looking for me?"

"How very kind of you to reappear and even bring your weapons," snarled Longclaw.

"You hid them not very well."

"Not from one who knows this place as you do." Longclaw gave him a toothy grin. "And now, dear Achilles, would you be so kind as to tell me why you and the Skullface have not escaped together with your slippery friends?"

"We are here because our purpose here is not yet fulfilled."

Longclaw raised a figurative eyebrow.

"Fret not; you shall enjoy what we have returned to do," said Henry, sparking a wave of intrigued murmurs among the filling ranks. "I know very well what it is that you all want." He spread his arms, addressing the entire gathering this time. "You know who I am, and I hear that many of you came here for me!"

The murmur increased, and Longclaw's ear twitched, but Henry was barely looking at him.

"I am Achilles," he declared, and everyone around him stilled.

Henry felt the anticipation in their looming, tense forms. The audience was not a collection of individuals; it was one will, one soul, with the power to command the happenings in the arena. Only those truly worthy of championship knew how to sway this will in a direction that favored them . . . And so Henry did.

"You came to witness me battle," he said. "My companions are uninteresting to you."

"Your companions—"

"They have not my skill and not my infamy," Henry cut Longclaw off. "Is it not so? Am I not the greatest champion to have ever graced the sands of any arena?"

Around him erupted a wave of cheers, widening Henry's self-assured smile. Only Longclaw stared at him with scorn.

"The crowd has declared its will," said Thanatos after most of the noise had died down. "And so we shall battle."

"You will battle?" asked Longclaw sourly. "Hear, hear, my greatest champion of all time wishes to battle for us once more! This time, he has even brought a stunning new weapon. So, whom wish Achilles and Skullface to battle for us today?"

"The only one whom we have yet neglected to battle," said Henry, slipping off his leather gauntlet and raising it above his head for everyone to see. "Achilles' fiftieth victory in this damned arena must be over he who would be Hector. He, who is the only one we would dare challenge on his very own coronation day. He, who is you!" In one deft move, Henry tossed the gauntlet into the white sand before Longclaw.

His challenge was met with a solemn silence. Henry could hear only the hammering of his own heart until it was overtaken by the resounding cheers of the crowd. A swift look around assured him that his impassioned words had swain the crowd in his intended direction, reigniting their lust for bloodshed.