TWENTY-EIGHT
THE THARFI CAME on the fourth turn. His arrival caused a great furor among the teeming crowds, many of whom ran screaming and shouting at sight of him. Not even Ashara walking unconcerned at his side was enough to assuage this terror. Since the Gardai wardens feared some mishap might occur if this state of affairs remained unchecked, they agreed he could have access to the floor. There the Swordkind could watch him.
This incensed the Rianna of Faerwyn-Joss to an even greater extent than previously witnessed, and the tharfi refused to submit to the will of the Gardai unless she could accompany him. And so it was that both gained access.
Ryder watched them come with a mixture of joy and eagerness. The face of Ashara radiated a light he had never seen, and it made him smile. The very thing she desired most was now almost within her grasp.
Wulf had thrived in the lands of Thorgrim, even after so short a time. His coat was thick and bore a heightened sheen of health. He had gained weight, and his massive musculature was more pronounced. His movements were lithe and powerful, lacking any sign of his previous injuries.
Ryder noticed the uneasy stares of the Adepts as the tharfi paced along the tightly packed sands of the floor, yet he stepped forward and greeted them both. Though he rubbed his hand over the animal’s fur and felt the ridges of scar tissue beneath, his eyes were for Ashara. She spoke to him as they had often done, mind to mind.
‘I am here, yet I cannot believe it.’
‘I regret I could not be with you before now. I would have wished it better than what I have seen here so far.’
‘Weeee too have beeeeen well,’ Wulf intruded upon their thoughts.
‘You found a mate?’ Ryder asked.
‘A fine feeeemale, young and strong. Sheee will bear ussss many offspring. Yet sheee iiis much like the feeeemales of your kind. The male iiis a necessity for the doing, but heeee quickly becomes a hindrance after the fact.’
Ryder could almost hear Ashara blushing.
‘Weeee thought it better to return heeere, at least until after her time of deliverance. Only then will weeee become useful again. Only then will sheeee need ussss to hunt food.’
Ashara had come closer. As they stroked the thick fur, their hands touched. The tharfi regarded them with his head cocked.
‘You want the maaaan…the maaaan wants you. Why do you hide your feeeelings?’
They did not answer his question, yet they saw his eyes suddenly grow wild and burn with hate.
‘Ahhh…weeee sense the eeeevil one in your thoughts.’ The great head rose higher, looking pointedly over the crowd of Adepts. ‘Heeee iiis heeeere?’
‘You must stay away,’ Ryder cautioned. ‘Even your great strength is no match for him.’
Wulf lowered his head until his eyes were only a hand's breadth from Ryder’s. There was a sudden glint of understanding. ‘But yours iiis. Once again you are as weeee first met you…strong with power. Youuu do not contest with the other swordsmen?’
Ryder merely shook his head, but the tharfi knew his mind too well by now.
‘Youuu must fight him…there iiis no other waaay.’
The eyes of Ashara and Ryder locked. The acceptance of it was in them both, and Ryder admitted to himself that Wulf was right. Even though his responsibility was far greater than the love of one woman, he must face the truth. Eventually, he would have to fight Zel.
***
By the evening of the fourth turn there were only two challengers left other than Shaan Sid. They were Shida Khan, Lord of the Second Wen, and Romanus Fern, Deputy Commander of the Home Fleet. Shida Khan issued his challenge and Romanus Fern accepted. As the hours slipped into darkness, the expectancy of the watchers grew to a fever pitch.
The contest was long and hard-fought, and only by the narrowest of margins did Khan finally emerge victorious. Yet the long duel had taken its toll. As he turned to receive his salute, there was a clamoring of trumpets and a lone figure emerged upon the floor. The watchers held their breath in anticipation. Here was a challenger who had not entered the lists.
As he came into the full glare of the lights, there was a collective cry of amazement. It appeared the archduke now strode across the field dressed in the robes of an Adept of the First Rank. But even in their amazement they knew it could not be. Many among them now recognized the tall and regal figure wearing the insignia of a commander of the Gardai. He slowly came to a halt facing Khan. He issued his challenge in a deep, resonant voice.
“I am Jedron Speer, Commander of the Rim Fleet. I challenge you, Shida Khan, Lord of the Second Wen. Do you accept?”
It was a formality. Khan had no choice but to accept, though he did not like it in the least. Fortune had forced him to take a full step backward, and he was now in the same position as before the contest with Fern. Yet his challenger proved to be gracious.
“You have recently fought, and well.” Speer bowed in tribute. “Honor dictates I grant you a period of rest. We shall contest on the morrow.”
Both Adepts bowed and left the field.
From their sideline position, Ryder and the others had looked on, equally astounded at what had just occurred. The warning of Reed Brynn-Jago had now come to pass. A deep frown marred Shaan’s face.
The Pat’Riark’s expression was the hardest to read. It appeared to war between sorrow and anger—or perhaps it was a mixture of both. For a moment longer, he watched the retreating forms of the Adepts. Though his gaze passed over the brooding Shaan thoughtfully, he spoke not a word. His eyes then flicked to Thorgrim Halfinger. Some wordless communication passed between the two men and both left the field in great haste.
Ashara’s visage was a mask of worry. “This is ill chance. Speer must know that even should he defeat my brother there will not be enough time in which to recuperate before having to fight Zel.”
Ryder gazed back at her, and there was a knowing look in his eyes. His reply was even stranger.
“Perhaps he does.”