Alara Unbroken - Doug Beyer [13]
“No,” said Rakka. “The ritual. It … I need to summon the elementals today.”
“You summoned five elementals just now, without the herbs!” said one of the warriors.
“Those things killed my brother!” said another.
Kresh was sizing her up, waiting for her response.
“I … Those were just simple minions. I need to summon the elements of pure fury from under the mountain, in order to defeat the dragon.”
The warriors murmured.
“That’s enough,” snapped Kresh. The warriors fell silent. But his eyes were only on Rakka.
BANT
The arena was the finest in the nation of Jhess, a grand stadium with enough tiered benches to seat hundreds of well-wishers. Fine frescoes painted knights fighting mythical creatures such as dragons, gargoyles, and demons. The statue of an empty throne, a model of the sacred throne of the revered archangel Asha, crowned the flag tower, the statue’s white marble gleaming in the sunlight.
That morning’s dispute was not a salacious one—some squabble over land rights in the olive groves bordering Valeron—but the rafters were full beyond their capacity nevertheless. For although the petitioner from Jhess had chosen a mere squad of local mercenaries to represent him, fighters who would be passably entertaining at best, the defendant from Valeron had chosen as his champion Rafiq of the Many, Knight-Captain of the Order of the Reliquary, Bant’s Grand Champion of Sigils, and the most decorated knight in the world.
Outside, the judge was announcing him. The audience erupted, thundering the stands with more than a thousand feet.
Rafiq put his forehead to his sword and prayed. “Asha, gentle archangel, thank you for last night’s rest,” he said. “Let your morning’s light cleanse the world. Let your mind’s wisdom guide my—”
His second, the gruff rhox Mubin, called from the door. “Rafiq!”
Rafiq rolled his eyes. “—wisdom guide my soul,” he continued. “Let your heart’s bounty fill the fields. Thereafter may you rest, while I battle in your stead, bringing your benevolence to all, that you may then lead me safely home and keep me through the dark of night.”
“Rafiq!”
“Yes, I know—they’re introducing us. It’s time to go.”
“Yes,” said Mubin. “But that’s not why I’m here. It’s a Blessed. She wants to talk to us after the dispute is settled.”
“One of the Blessed caste is here? Who?”
“Aarsil, from the courts of Valeron. No idea why she’d be way out here. She’s here with a delegation of the Order of the Skyward Eye.”
“Why has she come personally? She could have sent someone of Mortar caste. We should talk to her. It must be urgent.”
The big rhox shook his head. “She said to settle up with the Jhessians first. Then come talk to her.”
Rafiq grinned. “I guess she just likes to watch us fight.”
When Rafiq and Mubin appeared from the defendant’s gate, the audience stood and cheered. They bowed, letting their numerous sigils of patronage hang dramatically from their breastplates.
The mercenaries representing the plaintiff’s side had already assembled on the other side of the arena. They were just youths: gangly and awkward-looking young men and women in their front-heavy, ceremonial armor. Their swords, though, looked suspiciously sharp, possibly enchanted. Rafiq wondered whether those blades had been inspected for battle regulations, or whether he simply misjudged the glint on their edges.
The combatants all bowed to the judge, then bowed to each other, then bowed to the Valeron magistrate, Aarsil the Blessed, as she nodded gracefully. The judge led a prayer for all assembled, as everyone directed their outstretched hands to the sacred statue of the archangel’s throne, beseeching her grace over the dispute to be resolved.
Finally, the judge called the rhox knight, Mubin, and three of the Jhessian mercenaries forward. According to custom, the seconds of the champions always fought first. It was time to settle the dispute as the law of the angels intended.
Rafiq watched the face of Aarsil the Blessed, seated in the royal box in the audience. She was too far away to speak with, but he could see that she was seated