The groan Jess let out puffed away into the freezing air, joining the fog that laid heavy throughout the courtyard. The sight of her own warm breath departing to mix with the air, leaving her just a little bit colder, was finally too much for her. She kicked the bundle of sticks she had set aside near her feet, startling Samielle awake from his bed of furs. The man hit his head on the thick wooden stick they had found to support their tent, bursting the entire construction into a mess of leather and sticks that collapsed upon him.
Jess looked on as the man struggled beneath the fallen tent, growling as he searched for the entrance blindly. A few others nearby watched as well, the faint amusement heartening them somewhat, but the freeze sapped that all away. They at least had it easier than she did, the one thing she understood about these mammalian beings was that their hair was warm–lusciously and gorgeously warm. She found it interesting how quickly the thing that attracted her to the better specimens of their kind turned to make her envious. Jess put the thought aside, pulling her warm dire bear pelt tighter around her shoulders as she bent to the task of trying to get the hearth to light.
She stood on cobblestones free of snow on a platform that appeared as if someone had stolen a blacksmith’s workshop out of their home and plopped it down in the center of the frozen courtyard. The idiot on duty last night had allowed the fire in the forge’s hearth to die out, and it was up to her to try and relight it with nothing other than sodden twigs and the burning passion of her annoyance. She had not been alone in teaching that idiot a lesson in bruises; the forge had provided far more warmth than any of the little fires around the courtyard. Not that she could even see a quarter of the yard with the thick haze.
“What happened?” Samielle asked, finally having found his way out of the tent. The man took a moment to look around, rubbing his strong shoulders to warm himself. When his eyes fell on the scattered sticks in the snow, he sighed.
“Something to say?” Jess asked, pushing her fingers through the ash inside the hearth to find any fuel that wasn’t damp already.
“I didn’t say anything,” Samielle replied, bending and starting to collect the sticks.
“You didn’t need to say anything,” she sneered. Her teeth began to chatter, the cold metal in the bottom of the forge stealing her warmth just as greedily as the air. The shivering started to attack her, and it was all she could do to bundle herself in her furskin.
Samielle bent and tossed the sticks into the hearth, unslinging his weapon. Jess flinched as Samielle pushed the head of his mace into the bundle of tinder, and in the next second, the head of the mace burst to light, the magical fire spreading over the stubborn sticks.
Jess hung her head, feeling on the verge of tears as she huddled beneath her cloak. Samielle finished with his lighting the hearth, stoking the fire to rage, before he kneeled next to her and wrapped his strong arms around her.
“Why didn’t you ask for my help?” he asked. “You know I would have helped you.”
“I’m sorry,” she said, keeping her voice even. Already, the heat of the fire was burning away the chill. “I can’t think straight with this cold. It slows me down, makes me dumb.”
“I doubt that,” Samielle said, turning her head to give her a kiss.
As he continued to hold her, she gradually felt her cold and confusion fade away. She leaned into him, never growing tired of the way his smooth skin tightly hugged the muscles of his chest and arms. That was another thing she admired about these humans, their bodies emphasized their strength far more than most of the other species she had encountered on her travels. She lingered with Samielle in front of the fire for a long while, the air around the pair gradually heating and banishing the fog that persisted. When Jess finally turned away, making ready to stand and leave her place of comfort, she noticed many others had come to sit inside her forge room.
“Can you erect the tent again?” Jess asked.
“Seeing as how I am the one that broke it, I figure that I ought to. You are the builder though. If I do it, it will just end up collapsing again, I’m sure.”
“I can put it up again later,” she said. As she stood, she turned and leaned down to the man. “What will you do for me if I do so?”
Samielle looked around, noting the group that had come into the forge room and smiled wickedly to Jess. “Perhaps I can do that thing wi–”
His words were stolen by a kiss she had pushed onto him. Samielle laughed against her lips before returning the embrace as passionately as he could in his awkward half-squat. When she pulled away, she could not help but giggle a bit, pulling her bearskin tighter around her shoulders as she skipped backward. “I will hold you to that Samielle Kresh.”
“I am a man of my word,” he called to her as she faded into the fog. The last thing Jess heard as she turned and walked into the mist was the sound of a man slapping congratulations onto Samielle’s back.
She carried the warmth along with her as she stalked through a vague world of gray. Her hand played at the huge chakram she had fastened to a special ring on her waist, idly spinning the entire weapon in place, listening to the metal roll along its housing with a sharp whine that cut straight through the air. Her eyes detected the heat of the fire long before it should have been visible in the fog. She approached the gate, nodding at the three sentries that huddled around a fire, a length of leather stretched out on a wooden frame sheltering them from the wind.
“Thaniel?” she asked, not elaborating. They wouldn’t have understood a more complicated question anyway.
The three men looked back at her, conversing with one another in the strange guttural language half the people in this camp spoke. A few among their number spoke Castinian, though none of these three apparently did.
She had gotten the name of the language and the land where these people came from a few days before, but she had never heard of the continent mentioned. That in and of itself was both strange and not so strange. With the vastness of the world, it was not uncommon for any one person to only know of the smallest fraction of it, their knowledge seldom extending past the immediate neighboring continents. At the same time, that had meant that these people had come to this competition from very far away, and given that there were at least twenty of the similarly dressed humans, that struck her as significant. The humans were certainly an odd bunch, all being incredibly tall and well-built specimens, their hair either being blonde or green. Perhaps the most bizarre thing about them was that they all wore flowing robes made of silk, regardless of their sex, and not a single time had Jess ever seen one complain about the cold.
One of the men grunted something to her, pointing off into the fog in the direction she already suspected Thaniel as having gone. Jess nodded to the man, making a gesture with her hand toward the man, running the back of her fingers up her neck and flicking her hand toward the man. From what she understood, the sign was considered incredibly rude and vulgar. The man’s eyes opened in shock before he burst into a fit of deep and hearty laughter, returning a much more obscene gesture her way as she left the small post.
Jess lingered in front of the huge gate for a moment, looking up at the iron bar that had been thrown through great iron jambs. Moreover, the iron bar had been bonded to the gate itself, sealing it shut. That had been her contribution to the courtyard’s defense, petty contribution that it was. The thing that really drew her eyes was the stain of crimson lingering on the ice in front of the door. The blood that dyed the ice a color too bright for this foggy world of gray and white looked almost like a seven-pointed star; an ill omen Jess thought.
She trudged on, navigating toward the east end of the courtyard. Jess passed rows of sturdy, almost identical tents, counting the shadows until she arrived before the one she was looking for. She found Thaniel, a thin, willowy woman that looked as if the wind might carry her away at any moment. The flowing robe of red and green silk she wore hung off of her like a bedsheet.
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“You arrived on time,” Thaniel noted, nodding for Jess to follow her. The two continued into the fog, aiming for a spot near the base of the tower.
“I am always punctual,” Jess said.
The woman stopped in her walking, looking at Jess with a bit of confusion. “That word…”
“It means to be on time,” Jess explained.
Thaniel nodded, tasting the word, her harsh accent cutting down on the first letter like the popping of a bubble. “Thank you for the instruction. Are you prepared?”
“I need to be,” Jess said, sending her chakram spinning on her waist, the metallic trill of its revolution bringing the taste of copper to her mouth.
“You may still distance yourself from our affairs. These are not fragile foes we will be facing. One may be very much able to kill you with the might of their aura,” Thaniel warned again.
“That doesn’t escape me.”
“As long as you know.” Thaniel turned and continued to lead Jess away, dropping the matter. The pair came upon another group that slowly appeared out of the fog, five figures huddled together and speaking in low voices. The group assembled near the tower since the wind would not carry away their words. The wind here was a strange thing, only blowing toward the tower itself and never so much as disturbing the fog with its passage.
“I have brought the smith,” Thaniel said, repeating the words in her native tongue for the benefit of most. Jess did not mind being called a smith. These people said the title with a reverence she was unaccustomed to back home.
The group spoke to each other in hushed tones for a while, argument running through the band. Jess did not understand a word of it, but she didn’t need to in order to read the mood. Some amid the group were still hesitant to do what needed to be done. The largest man among any of the forty or so inside the courtyard whispered harshly at Thaniel, sticking a meaty finger in the woman’s face as he carried on. Thaniel took the beratement, replying in calm and short words that only seemed to enrage the man further.
The debate carried on for twenty minutes or more, leaving Jess to linger in the windbreak the tall humans made with their bodies, hugging her fur tight. She did not understand all of this argument; the path forward was obvious. Ever since that first day, since that woman had maimed a man named Jorgash when their two groups first met, tensions in the courtyard had been feverishly high. At the time, the idea to throw and bar the gate had been a logical one, that woman outside had been a terror. After almost a full week lingering in the cold and trying to wait out their opponents on the other side of the wall, their folly had finally sunk in.
Those others on the other side of the gate had full access to the forest, they could gather food for themselves at need, and they had been far better equipped in the first place. The only reasons that the confrontation had happened in the first place had been to Jorgash’s and his brother Coli’s aversion to the nobility. Jess had no such bitter hatred of her betters; she understood how it was that the world worked. On top of that, their opponents on the other side of the gate seemed to have a kressin woman leading them. Only an idiot would put themselves on the opposing side to one of those maniacs.
“Tell them that we are wasting time,” Jess hissed, steam burning out between her teeth. “This had already dragged on too long.”
“They have difficulty in understanding the need to do away with their leader,” Thaniel said, motioning to the group. “They are friends of Jorgash, and while he lingers on the edge of death, they do not wish to push his brother out of his rightful role of leadership. You must understand, Jorgash is the strongest among those of us that came to this strange land. To see him fallen is a blow to the honor of these warriors.” None of the healers had been able to help Jorgash recover from the wounds inflicted upon him. More, the man’s natural healing had done little to cure him either.
“We cannot continue in this way,” Jess sneered. She knew that the cold was getting to her again, making her impatient, but it was difficult for her to care just then. “Do they not wish to move ahead in this contest? Do they believe that the Willian Guild planned for us to waste nearly a week here? Is it within the bounds of honor for their leader to make all of them fail this competition?”
Thaniel snorted, amusement in her eyes. “I will ask them.” Judging by the concern that the others showed at Thaniel’s words, Jess guessed her argument was taken seriously. The tall humans continued to complain to one another for a long while before Thaniel finally turned to Jess and nodded. “We have a consensus. We shall remove Coli from his role as leader and treat with the group on the other side of the gate.”
“You knew consensus but not punctual,” Jess said.
Thaniel waved off the remark. “Are you ready to move to action now, Jess Keller?”
Jess spared a thought for Samielle back at the forge. He was a strong fighter, and he would surely agree with her that this stalemate needed to end. Still, she did not go to recruit him into the conspiracy. What Thaniel had warned her about earlier had been true. There were three rank two magicians among those they went to face, including Coli himself. If blood was to be spilled, many may die.
“Let’s go then,” Jess said. One by one, those among the group of conspirators reluctantly joined together, walking as a group toward where they knew the largest tent in the courtyard to have been placed. They ignored Jess’s urging to simply go to the gate and open it. In their words, their honor could only be pushed so far; they would not move in deceit like rats.
The largest tent in the yard was a sturdy construction that appeared to be professionally made. Jess wondered if the tent itself might have been the single item brought into the competition by one of the participants, and she debated with herself about the merit of choosing to do so. Two guards lingered outside the tent, turning to look at Thaniel as the group approached. At Thaniel’s nod, one of the guards tackled the other, wrapping him in a grapple and covering his mouth to prevent any warning being shouted. At a touch, one of the women in their group cast the struggling man into a deep sleep he wouldn’t wake from anytime soon.
The group marched into the tent, now eight strong, and found four figures lounging inside. One was Coli, an average looking man with aquiline features and hair the color of fresh grass. Coli’s woman, Tabinna, a blonde and freckled beauty with an endearing smile, continued to lay in the furs, pulling some up to cover her nakedness, one hand snaking out to grab the hilt of her thin blade. Jorgash lingered on the edge of consciousness in a bed of his own furs, a woman kneeling over him; her attention fully on dabbing Jorgash’s head with a cool rag as the man’s breath hitched with every inhale.
Coli showed his rage clear on his face, understanding the intrusion immediately. He shouted at Thaniel, stalking toward a pillar where his heavy ax leaned. Thaniel’s hand flashed out, a wall of red energy forming between Coli and his weapon. Thaniel returned words in that foreign tongue, her tone harsher than Jess had ever heard it before. Coli raged with indignity, seizing the barrier of magic in his hand, the barrier cracking like glass at the force of Coli’s fingers upon it. The man seethed, his burning hate pouring a dangerous tension into the room. Thaniel barked an order at the man, the rest of the conspirators moving their hands to their own weapons.
Jess slid her weapon free, leaping forward with her chakram, swinging. As she moved the figure of a woman appeared out of shadow at Thaniel’s right, a terrible dagger speeding down toward Thaniel’s neck. Jess stamped her foot, swinging her chakram up in an arc that perfectly caught the would-be assassin’s blade as it plunged down, the edge of Jess’s weapon landing precisely at the minute spot where the dagger’s guard met the blade. The full force of Jess’s parry into the guard of the blade jammed the hilt into the assassin’s hand, snapping the bones of the woman’s fingers, and flinging the blade into the ceiling of the tent where it sailed straight through and into the beyond.
The world slowed around Jess as her Grace Essentia awoke, spurred to action by the perfection of Jess’s parry. Before the assassin could even cry out in pain at her broken fingers, Jess had already looped her weapon under the woman’s foot and was pulling her off balance. Jess was behind the woman before the assassin even understood that she was falling, wrenching the woman’s uninjured arm behind her back and violently driving her into the hard ground, Jess’s knee in the center of the woman’s back. All protest vanished from the assassin as she was driven into the ground, the air driven from her lungs. She took a moment to realize that Jess’s chakram was now around her neck, a deadly blade held against her throat. In its entirety, the attempted assassination lasted a period as long as the blink of an eye.
“Jatya,” Coli called out, worry in his voice. “Do not harm her,” the man half-demanded and half-begged of Jess.
Jess looked down, finally recognizing the vibrant green hair that covered the assassin’s head. She had seen Jatya only once before around the camp, the younger sister of Coli and Jorgash often seemed to keep to herself. To her credit, Jatya did not whine or struggle as Jess held her still.
Thaniel stepped forward again, shouting at Coli, the demand in her voice harsh. The man’s face turned red as he looked between Thaniel and his sister who was still held pinned to the ground by Jess’s knee. Coli’s hands shook in fists at his side, and Jess could feel magical pressure rolling off this man. Fear beat in Jess’s chest; this man might lash out on them despite the hostage she now had. Jess didn’t know if she could survive the kind of attack Coli would level at her.
Just as Coli opened his mouth to say something, the ping of metal in the distance cut through the tent. The single metallic beat was soon followed by another and then another. Confusion passed through the tent as the tempo outside the tent, the ringing of metal striking metal, picked up its pace.
A man burst into the tent from the outside, shouting one of the few words that Jess had managed to pick up over the last week or so. Something was happening at the gate. Just then, as the beating of metal that cut perfectly through the cold air and fog began to pick up its pace, a dagger fell through the leather roof, stabbing straight into the icy ground and sticking.