It was a cell and a secure one.
It could be a much better place, but it wasn't meant to be luxorious. The dungeons of Benarus were kept clean, with plenty of straw to cover the floor. There was a window that narrowed as it got closer to the aboveground. If Relma wanted to escape, she'd have to scale it up and slip out.
It would be challenging, but Relma thought it could be managed.
But Relma wasn't planning to escape. It wasn't that she wanted to hang. The idea of the rope going around her neck, tightening until she couldn't breathe. Would it hurt? Or would it all blur together?
She supposed that if she were lucky, she'd fall hard enough for her neck to snap. But then, if there were any last-minute reversals, she'd die for nothing. So wouldn't it be better to stay in the world as long as possible, hoping that someone would cut her down?
Would Aunt Pan cry? She had yet to come by. No one had.
It didn't really matter to her in the end. This surprised Relma, though. Why did she regard the prospect of her own death as insignificant? Why had she been so dead set on sparing the life of Fayn? Someone who tried to kill her, who she didn't particularly like anyway.
"Why?" said a voice.
Relma looked up and saw Fayn standing in front of the gate. The girl was outwardly smug, but her confidence was only a mask. She was conflicted. Relma wasn't sure how she knew, though. She considered the question. After a moment, she realized she didn't know what Fayn was asking. Or maybe Fayn didn't.
"Why what?" asked Relma.
"Why would you take my place?" asked Fayn. "You defeated me."
"I didn't want to see anyone hang because of me," said Relma. Though that didn't really answer the question, did it?
There was more to it than that. It wouldn't have been justice to let things stand as they were. Relma had known that before the match even began; even if she hadn't known, she'd known.
"And what if your friend, Ronald, comes back? What then?" asked Fayn.
It was a good question. That is a very good question, in fact.
"Then..." Relma considered how to say that she was confident it wouldn't be a problem. "I don't know."
"You don't know much, do you?" asked Fayn with a laugh. A forced laugh. "If you only care about making sure everyone lives, you'll never save anyone."
"Is that from personal experience?" asked Relma. She had the feeling it was.
"Sort of," admitted Fayn. "Remember that fire you started? That fire that began in the woods, I was there, hunting. I remember that I saw the flames shying away from me. Me and the other huntsmen. But they were consuming the animals.
"The others ran. But I didn't. I walked into the flames and spoke with them. And they shied away. I followed them, and the spirit of Cin' dar appeared before me.
"He asked me why I did not flee, and I said he was avoiding me. I said I wanted to watch the forest burn. He told me that he had promised the Heir of Kings he would not slay any she would deem equals."
"And you made a pact with him?" mused Relma.
"Not then. I remember he let me stay," said Fayn. "I watched as the trees were consumed around me, and I wondered what it would be like to be consumed.
"Then I saw a wolf trapped by the fire. And in the other direction, I saw a deer. Cin'dar noticed and asked me if I wanted to save one of them. If I had offered myself in place of both, I would have asked him to break his word to you. I could have tried to trick him into releasing both, so that would have been in bad taste to do so.
"I didn't care which one survived, of course. Neither meant anything to me. Yet it seemed rude to refuse a gift."
"What did you do?" asked Relma.
Fayn smiled. "I told Cin'dar he could burn whichever one he preferred and release the other. Then, when he released the wolf, I shot an arrow after it as it bound away."
Not the choice Relma would have made. It seemed so cruel. But saying as much would only be playing into her hands. "Did you hit it?"
"I don't know," admitted Fayn.
Relma tried to understand her. She felt like she did understand. But that understanding hadn't been revealed to her. It was odd. "Why would you try to kill both?"
"Wolves are dangerous," said Fayn with a shrug. "They are the enemy of the common folk. And now they serve Telix. That only occurred to me when the flames were lowered.
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"Do you know why Cin'dar killed the deer?"
Relma considered the question. She remembered some things she had learned from Aunt Pan. About animals and plants and how things worked. "...Deer eat plants. If there is a lot of foliage in a forest, it is easier for a forest fire to start. Isn't it?"
"Yes. And wolves hunt deer, preventing them from overpopulating," said Fayn. "Cin'dar was pleased with my choice. So he offered me power. An aspect of his strength in this bracelet." She drew back her sleeve to reveal a silver bracelet adorned with a single, fiery stone. "And I carry it to this day."
Relma decided to fulfill her curiosity. "Did you set yourself on fire?"
Fayn's smile widened. "Why are you trying to trap me?
"I choose to consume those around me for my benefit. In so doing, I gained great power. Cin'dar rewards those willing to give their own flesh unto his flame!
"Now, I could throw all that away in an instant. I could heed a guilty conscience that I don't have and admit to a crime I may or may not have done. Take the heat off you and hang in your place.
"Or, I could just do nothing. Save no one. And then I win."
"Win what?" asked Relma.
"I'll be the heir to Gel Carn," said Fayn. "Benarus won't be able to deny me what I deserve."
"Why do you deserve it?" asked Relma.
"Because I was born to it!" snapped Fayn. "Why should my family have to give up its birthright? Just because of some line of kings that hasn't really existed for years!"
"Your birthright as Steward of Gel Carn," said Relma.
"Yes," said Fayn.
"The Steward. As in, a person who rules in place of a higher authority," said Relma.
"A higher authority that hasn't existed in ages!" snapped Fayn. "You might not even be legitimate."
"True," said Relma, feeling more detached by the minute. "What is the source of a King's legitimacy?"
Fayn remained silent. "I could pretend as if it is the will of Elranor, but that isn't true. History is determined by the man who wins battles.
"The answer is power. The strong determine right and wrong. The weak follow directives or are destroyed."
"So, if I was more powerful than you, I would logically have the greater right," said Relma.
"No!" snapped Fayn. "My family has ruled Gel Carn since the death of Anoa IX! We own it!"
"So tradition is also a source of authority?" asked Relma. "Doesn't tradition dictate that you step aside?"
Fayn remained silent. "It doesn't matter. Because you are weaker."
"Why?" asked Relma. "I defeated you in our match."
Fayn held still. "Maybe. But there are other kinds of power. You're too weak to take a life. All you had to do was take the victory.
"But now it doesn't matter.
"You'll hang and-"
At that moment, a door opened guards returned. The warden came forward at the front, the keys jangling at his belt. Warden Mathias Stone was a huge bear of a man with a bald head and stubble. He wore three knives on his belt and a sword. Somewhat too well-armed for unexpected circumstances. But Relma wouldn't judge.
Mathias motioned to Fayn. "You step aside from the cell. We're releasing the prisoner."
Fayn glanced back. "But, the hanging is tomorrow!"
"Not anymore; Steward Benarus has put out a pardon for Ronald Fulsof," said Mathias. "So, she is at this moment released."
Oh, that's why Relma wasn't worried. Literally, the entire universe revolved around her. So what was the rule of law compared to her? It was a little shameful to her just how far things would stretch to help her.
She felt like she should object to this. But that is both counterproductive and in poor taste.
Fayn shuddered. "...He can't do that!"
"He is the steward," said Mathias as he drew out his keys.
"Yes, but-" began Fayn.
"It's well within his rights," said Mathias, opening the lock.
"But... but it's not fair!" roared Fayn. "If I'd lost the match or she hadn't taken the halfling's place, they'd have hung us in a heartbeat! Benarus would have been crowing in glee!"
"That sounds like it has more to do with you than it does with her," noted Mathias. "Besides, you lost the match. So the only reason you aren't hanging is that she also took your place.
"You might show a little gratitude."
"Gratitude?!" shrieked Fayn.
"Being thankful for services rendered," said Mathias. "It is generally considered a virtue. Now get out of the way."
The door swung open, and Relma made her way out. She thanked the guards and quickly exited the stairs and into the light. But she saw a familiar shadow as she entered the courtyard.
"Saved by your title, then?" asked Felix.
Relma glanced back. The Calishan boy was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed and his cloak around him. His eyes were narrowed.
"Are you disappointed?" asked Relma.
"Well, I thought the death of one of my master's political adversaries would be good," said Felix. "You seem to lead a charmed life, however. Seem to. But appearances can be deceiving."
"What are you talking about?" asked Relma. He was after something.
"There comes a time in every noble's life when they are no longer protected by their title," said Felix. "Some face it on the battlefield. Others in the court or on their deathbed.
"I wonder when you will."
"I didn't know I was going to be saved by pardon," said Relma, feeling defensive.
Felix eyed her carefully. "Hmm, perhaps you weren't. Well, it doesn't matter. You see, you've just demonstrated that the Heir of Kings is above the law. And at the moment, no one minds. But it doesn't matter. Sooner or later, you'll do something that will break the illusion of your perfection.
"And then, once you disappoint, people will be looking to destroy you.
"Only a god can disobey his own rules. And you are no god. Not yet, anyway."
Then he stood up as if to leave. He was familiar. Very familiar. And Relma was afraid of him. But she faced him. "...Who are you, Felix? Tell me, honestly."
"I think you know," said Felix.
She did know, didn't she? Before she could speak, however, someone hugged her. "Relma! Relma!"
Relma turned around and saw Ronald. Stepping back, she blinked in surprise. "Ronald? What are you doing back here?"
"I came as soon as I found out you'd be taking my place!" said Ronald. "What are you thinking? I'll... I'll go to the noose just don't-"
"Ronald, relax. Benarus pardoned you," said Relma. "No one is getting hung." She glanced back. "Felix, I don't think-"
But Felix was gone.
"How does he do that?" asked Relma.
"Who?" asked Ronald.
"Nothing. Nevermind," said Relma. "So, who do you think will win the final match?"
"Well, um, I don't know who went on to the finals," said Ronald.
"Fayn, William, and Estela." said Relma.
"Wait, there are three finalists?" asked Ronald. "How are they going to manage that?"
"I don't think this tournament was planned well," admitted Relma.
"I noticed," said Ronald.
If nothing else, they were all back and in the clear. Relma supposed she should be grateful to Benarus, but she respected Fayn more. At least Fayn had a notion of consistency and fair play more complicated than us vs. them.