The Elder Blood Chronicles Bk 1 In Shades of Grey (39 page)

She gave him a glare in response, and he
returned the expression with the Bendazzi equivalent of a
frown.

“So, what exactly did Devron do?” Valor asked
quietly as they both watched the grim-looking judge approach. “From
the looks of the crowd and Finn’s posture, I’d say it was bad.”

They were standing behind Finn now, perhaps
five feet from the center of the Arena. Finn stood in a bit of a
slouch, giving the impression he was relaxed, but she could see
every muscle in his body was tense. Across from him stood Devron
whose enameled chain mail gleamed in the bright sun. Behind him
stood his lackeys in a semi-circle, trading jests with each other
amid much snickering. Cassia stared back at Jala with a look of
triumph in her blue eyes that sent chills down Jala’s spine. She
had to force herself not to grab Finn and drag him from the arena.
She doubted she actually could drag him, but if she hadn’t been
concerned with rousing his anger toward her, she would have
tried.

“He called me a whore. Do you suppose there
is any way you could talk Finn out of this?” She looked up at the
knight with a pleading expression. She knew she couldn’t drag Finn
from here, but perhaps Valor could talk him into leaving the Arena.
It was a chance she wouldn’t pass up if Valor would help.

He gave a sigh and moved forward to stand
just behind Finn and leaned over to whisper in his ear. They seemed
to confer with each other for the remainder of time it took the
judge to take his position and then Valor fell back beside her
again. He gave her a shrug when she looked questioningly at
him.

“I asked him to let it slide and not push
this. If he listens, is the question. Finn isn’t prone to listening
to anyone and that’s why he doesn’t serve a High House.” Valor gave
her another shrug and a hopeful smile.

The judge straightened and cleared his
throat. He was a tall, forbidding figure in full grey plate
complete with a bucket helm. His long black cloak billowed behind
him, giving him a more dramatic pose. “Devron Rivasa, you come
before us bearing the coin of death, have you no desire to solve
this matter more peacefully?” he asked, his words echoing in his
helm and ringing with tradition.

“This is not a matter to be settled with
peace,” Devron replied smoothly, his dark eyes fixed on Finn with
an almost hungry gaze.

The Judge gave a solemn nod and looked to
Finn. “This man bears a Coin of Death with your mark, Finn Sovaesh,
will you not seek a more peaceful answer?” he asked, facing
Finn.

Finn cleared his throat and sighed. “I give
you a final chance, Devron. Return my coin and apologize to Lady
Jala and I will let you live,” he said in a tone of voice that
suggested he was hoping he would be refused.

Devron made a disgusted sound. “Calling a
whore a lady won’t make her one, Finn. Draw your steel and let’s be
done with this. I have an engagement for cards that I would hate to
be late for,” Devron replied. There were titters of laughter from
his friends, and it seemed to bolster the Rivasan lord. He stood
straight and drew his own steel. They were beautiful blades slender
and elegant with delicate scrollwork tracing down both of them and
they were far lighter than Finn’s own blades. He held them in a
flourish before him as he impatiently waited for Finn to draw.

The Judge stepped back from the two men, and
Jala thought she heard a faint sigh from the helm as the man took
his place to witness the duel.

“After that little bit there, if Finn had
backed down, I believe I would have killed him,” Valor whispered to
her with a faint smile. “On the grounds of being an obnoxious
prick.” He gave her a wink and returned his attention to the
duel.

Finn was eyeing the slender blades with a
smirk as he drew his own thick swords. They seemed cleavers in
comparison, short wide blades with a slight curve to them. They
were brutal and deadly rather than beautiful and delicate. He
didn’t bother with the dance as he had with Lex. He didn’t even
wait for Devron to move. With one quick spring, he came forward
with both of his own blades hard against the slender silver swords
and the arena resounded with an audible boom as bright light
flashed from Devron’s shattered blades. Released magic, Jala
realized. The Rivasan’s blades had been enchanted as Finn had
predicted. Finn’s swords seemed to drink the light as they moved,
absorbing the magic into themselves before it could harm anyone.
His foot came up in a hard kick to Devron’s midsection, while the
Rivasan was still stunned from the flash, and his now useless
swords fell limply to the sand. With a slight grunt of effort, Finn
plunged one sword deep in the young man’s chest straight through
the chain mail as if it were cloth. With another brutal push
forward, he rammed the second blade up under Devron’s chin with so
much force Jala could hear the bones of his neck snapping as the
blade drove through Devron’s throat and out the back of his skull.
Devron seemed to wilt before her, his knees buckled and he tottered
slightly, his body shuddering. Blood began to seep from his mouth
and stained the bright fabric under his chain mail a dark crimson.
Finn gave him a push, sending him sprawling on his back, dead
before he hit the ground. With a savage grip, Finn pulled his
swords from the corpse and whipped the blades in an arc, sending
ribbons of blood across Cassia.

Cassia stepped back quickly with a gasp. Her
face was a perfect picture of revulsion and dismay. Her eyes,
however, didn’t seem to match those emotions. To Jala’s amazement
she seemed happy. Jala shivered slightly, wondering what sort of
person could find joy in death as she let her gaze drop to the
still body lying only a few feet from her. His eyes stared blankly
up at the sky, his face a mask of surprise. He looked so small
there, like a boy playing dress up in his father’s armor. She had
known of death before, with the loss of her parents, but she had
never actually seen death before. Her parents had died suddenly,
and no bodies had remained. It was as if they had just disappeared.
The boy’s body wasn’t disappearing, however. She could hear Valor
speaking but didn’t pay attention to the words. She couldn’t pull
her eyes from the body or from the crimson stain spreading out
below him. He had died because he had insulted her. His blood was
covering the sand now for nothing more than a single word
spoken.

She felt bile rise in her own throat and then
Valor was pulling her back and turning her from the body. The judge
was speaking, she realized, but his words seemed a buzzing. Her
knees began to quiver slightly and she remembered Marrow’s request
for a meal, the bile rose again and she forced it back down with
panic. The last thing she wanted to do was vomit on Valor. Dark
spots danced on her vision and she felt herself wobble again. A
strong arm caught her, gripping her around her waist, a strong arm
still covered in fresh blood. She tried to push away in revulsion
and staggered, her vision going black.

“She’s just fainted, Finn, she will be fine,”
It was Valor speaking, she thought. A cold cloth was across her
forehead and she could feel soft sheets beneath her. Jala debated
on moving and decided she didn’t feel like it when her stomach
roiled again.

“I’ve never actually seen anyone faint
before,” Finn said quietly, his voice filled with concern.

“I’ve never actually fainted before,” she
replied, her voice a hoarse whisper. She felt the bed give slightly
as he sat down beside her. With a groan, she forced her eyelids
open and looked up at him. He hadn’t bothered to replace his shirt,
she noticed. He had, however, washed away the boy’s blood, and for
that she was grateful. The room was dark, lit only with a single
pale mage light. Valor sat in a chair beside the bed, and Finn was
looking down at her, his green eyes filled with worry. “I’m okay,
just a bit nauseous,” she said, trying to soothe him.

“I didn’t think. I should have sent you back
to the Academy or waited on the duel. I’m sorry,” Finn said. With a
gentle hand, he moved the cloth from her forehead and dipped it in
a basin of water on the nightstand. Slowly she realized this was
not her room, or her bed. The walls were a dark green and the
sheets she was so tenderly wrapped in were black silk. She blinked
a few times and raised her head to look around.

“My room,” Finn explained, noting her
confusion.

She nodded slowly and let her head sink back
onto the pillow. She should, of course, return to her own room, but
she didn’t quite want to move yet. “Finn, next time someone calls
me a name can we solve it another way, please?” she asked
quietly.

“Would you prefer I simply punch them in the
mouth?” he replied with a slight smile. “Dueling is legal; punching
in the mouth can get me exiled.”

“I feel like I had a part in his death. I
don’t like that feeling.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“His death was Cassia’s doing. She knew he
would die. She didn’t look the least bit surprised when he fell. I
was watching her,” Valor said with a sigh.

Finn glanced at him and frowned. “This isn’t
the sort of mess I usually fall into,” Finn said, as he draped the
cloth back across Jala’s forehead. “I still don’t see the point of
it though. If I were from a High House this duel could have
triggered a war, but my parents serve her house.”

“I’m sure we will know soon enough,” Valor
replied. “Maybe she was testing you, to see how protective you are.
I have to admit, I’m rather surprised at the answer to that
particular question.”

“As am I,” Jala added, watching Finn for any
reaction.

“That makes three of us,” Finn admitted
ruefully. “You know my temper, Val, and while insults usually don’t
trigger it, they did today.” He rubbed his face and let out a deep
breath. “I wanted to strangle him at the café. It took much
willpower not to.”

“Would you do it again?” Valor asked with a
raised eyebrow.

“Yes,” Finn answered without hesitation and
then smiled. “But I would send Jala back to the Academy first,” he
added.

“Well then, no use troubling ourselves over
it if you have no regrets.” Valor gave a nod and patted Finn firmly
on the back as he rose. “Live life with no regrets,” he said with a
smile and headed toward the door. “I’ll be at the Gold Penny if you
need me. I want to hear the gossip. I’ll save you a spot at the
card table if you like,” he offered, pausing in the doorway.

“No thank you, another night perhaps. I’m
going to stay in tonight. If you would send a runner with some food
back, I’d appreciate it, though. You know my taste well enough to
order something from wherever is convenient. Get enough for two and
meat enough for the Bendazzi,” Finn said and tossed a money pouch
to Valor. His friend caught it easily and gave them both a nod
before closing the door behind him.

“I’m fine. You could have gone. I should
probably get back to my own room anyway,” Jala protested.

“Had I wanted to go, I would have,” Finn
replied before she could protest further.

“Is Marrow here?” she asked. She could feel
his presence, but couldn’t tell if he was actually in the room or
not.

Finn gave a slight nod. “Asleep by the bed.
He made some grumbling about if he couldn’t eat he would sleep.” He
had a thoughtful expression on his face and his gaze was locked on
the wall.

She watched him for a few minutes, waiting
for him to speak again, but he remained silent, as if he had
forgotten she was even in the room. “Finn, are you OK?” she asked
at last.

His gaze flicked back down to her and his
eyes met hers and held them. “I’m no Empath, but I could feel how
upset you were at the arena. Not see it, actually feel it. I felt
your revulsion when I took you from Valor. Do I disgust you that
much now?” He spoke quietly, his tone so soft it wasn’t even a
whisper.

“It was the fresh blood on your arm and the
death. I’ve never actually seen a man die before. Not like that,”
she answered, her eyes still holding his. The mention of Devron
brought the image back to her mind and she shuddered slightly.

“I don’t even notice it anymore, the blood or
the death.” He broke her gaze then and stared down at the sheets,
his finger tracing a line back and forth through the silk.

“How many have you killed?” she asked, afraid
to know the answer but wanting it none the less.

“I’m on my second black coin, and each coin
holds sixty marks. This one is nearly full. That’s only the third
I’ve killed without payment though. I’m a duelist. I kill when my
client demands death,” he answered. With a sigh, he leaned back,
bracing his arm on the mattress and met her gaze again. He chewed
his lower lip for a moment, seeming to consider his words before
speaking. “I don’t live by anyone’s assistance, Jala. I pay for the
Academy with my own coin, as well as for my own wardrobe and
weapons. My parents serve Avanti and if I take their coin I live by
their rules, which essentially means I serve Avanti, as well. My
father is a good man serving a bad one. I serve no one but myself.”
He stood slowly and crossed the room, pausing by a small table.
Silently, he waved a bottle in her direction in offering, and when
she shook her head poured himself a double. He took a long pull
from the glass and walked back to the bed, bringing the bottle with
him. “I suppose by Shade’s grey theory, I’m rather dark grey,
perhaps black. I don’t really know. When I do die, I know I’ve a
spot reserved for me among the demons of the Darklands, but that
doesn’t bother me. I live by the sword, and kill when it’s
required, without remorse. And I’m good at it. I’m not an Assassin,
only by the fact that my victim has a choice of refusing the
duel.”

“You fight honorably, Assassins don’t,” she
objected quickly. At the mention of the Darklands, goose bumps rose
on her arms. She didn’t want to picture Finn there, nor did she
want to consider him dying for that matter.