Guild Wars_ Edge of Destiny - J. Robert King [53]
As Logan approached the stands, a number of the Seraph watched him in anticipation. Their swords raked free of silvery scabbards. One shouted for Logan to stay back, but he kept on walking.
Then another Seraph waved the others back and descended to the rail. “So, it’s true—my kid brother’s in Lion’s Arch.”
Logan blinked, only then seeing who it was. “Dylan!”
Dylan didn’t return the greeting, and there was anger beneath his black brows. “What are you doing here? I thought you were guarding merchant caravans or something.”
Logan averted his eyes—it had always been difficult looking into his big brother’s relentless gaze. “My group was slaughtered . . . down to me.”
“By what?” Dylan asked.
“By ogres.” Logan glanced behind him, where Rytlock was taking practice swings with Sohothin. “The charr back there saved my life.”
“Really,” Dylan said coldly.
“Really,” Logan responded, finally looking him in the eye.
Dylan nodded coolly. “So, now you fight beside a charr, in the arena?”
Logan shrugged. “Yeah.”
“I shouldn’t have expected more,” Dylan sighed. “I hope the queen likes the exhibition match today.”
“She hopes she does, as well,” came a woman’s voice behind Dylan.
He looked over his shoulder, surprised, then dropped to one knee. “My queen!”
Queen Jennah of Kryta stepped forward.
Logan’s mouth fell open, and he staggered back.
The queen was stunning, her dark features set off by robes as white as lightning. Her eyes were sharp, and they pierced him, baring his inner thoughts.
Logan stood pinioned on those eyes. He wanted to turn away but couldn’t. It was as if every other woman he had ever seen was just a statue, but Jennah was flesh and blood.
The queen smiled. “Rise, Captain Dylan, and tell me who this man is to approach my presence armed.”
“Regrettably, my queen,” Dylan said, “this gulping codfish is my brother, Logan.”
Logan tried to speak, but there was no air in his lungs.
“Bow before your queen!” Dylan snapped.
Logan fell to his knees and bowed his head.
“Logan is your name?”
Logan nodded.
Jennah leaned forward on the rail, looking down at him. “Can he speak?”
Before Dylan could respond, Logan gasped out, “Normally, yes, my queen, I can speak. It’s only in your presence that I . . . that I can’t seem to find . . . you know, words.”
Dylan looked from his brother to the queen. “Your Majesty, is he under a charm of some sort?”
Jennah shook her head.
“A charm?” Logan asked.
“Our queen is a mesmer of extraordinary power,” Dylan said to Logan. “It’s how she spoke to the whole stadium just now. I thought perhaps she had cast some strange glamour upon you to make you gabble so stupidly. Apparently, though, you come by it naturally.”
“Stand, Logan Thackeray,” Queen Jennah said.
“Yes, Your Majesty.” Logan rose and brushed the dust from his knees. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Do not fear, Logan. If you’re half the warrior that your brother is, you will do well today.”
“I’d say he’s almost half,” Dylan put in.
“My queen,” Logan replied earnestly, “I am not sure how good a warrior I am, but if I could fight this match for you, I would be ten times the warrior. Grant me a token—”
Dylan sternly shook his head at his brother.
But Queen Jennah leaned forward, drew a blue scarf from her robe, and handed it down to Logan. “Yes, Logan. Be my champion today. When you fight, fight for me.”
Numbly, Logan stepped up and took the scarf as if it were a tender flower. The royal seal of Kryta was embroidered on one corner. “Thank you, milady. I will fight for you.”
Dylan sighed, “Pity.”
“Pity my foes!” Logan proclaimed.
“Give me reason,” the queen said, smiling. She turned away and ascended the stairs.
Dylan looked down at his little brother and shook his head. “Hopeless.” Then he followed his queen.
“She’s going to watch,” Logan realized, pivoting slowly and heading away. He stared at the scarf in his hand, marked with the emblem of the royal house, then