The Indigo King - James A. Owen [72]
The tournament had gone forward in a spectacular fashion, overseen by the Lawgiver. There had been contests of not only physical prowess, but of intellect.
“Merlin nicknamed it ‘Heart, Hand, and Head,’” Hank told Hugo. “Apparently, the contests are based on a series of trials once used in competitions at Alexandria.”
“Like the Gordian knot?” asked Hugo.
“Something like that,” Hank answered.
The contests went on throughout the day, and more than half of the hundred or so who had come to compete were eliminated. There were very few life-threatening injuries, and no deaths whatsoever.
“It was the one condition Taliesin insisted on,” said Hank. “First blood only. No deaths.”
“That’s rather civilized,” said Hugo.
“You can say that because you’re not being stabbed,” Hank chortled. “As Sam used to say, ‘It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye.’”
By late afternoon there were only seven left standing who had not been defeated in any of the trials. Taliesin motioned for them to take up positions around the crypt that bore the sword.
“Of all those who have come,” the Lawgiver announced, “you seven, kings all, have proven your worth to compete for the honor of serving the peoples of two worlds.”
“Eight!” a voice bellowed. Pellinor pushed his way to the front of the gathering, eyes watery and face flushed.
“Cheated! Cheated, I was! I was told the Questing Beast would be here, here, when I finished the job I was given! And I was cheated! So I demand my right to draw the black sword and become the High King! It is only fair. There are eight great kings here!”
The Lawgiver raised an eyebrow and appraised Pellinor for a long moment, then gestured at the sword. “Fine,” he said. “Eight great kings. If you believe yourself worthy, try to draw the sword from its scabbard.”
Pellinor harrumphed and adjusted his belt as he stepped down into the shallow hole. He looked down at the sword, which was shorter and more stout than he’d imagined it to be. It also wasn’t very decorative. The hilt was plain, mostly tarnished silver and steel wrapped in blackened leather, and the scabbard was a match in style and plainness. It was not in appearance the weapon of a king—but that, he figured, could be fixed with some jewels and gold flecking, and probably a new scabbard altogether.
“This should be good,” Hank whispered to Hugo.
“Why?” Hugo wondered.
“Because he’s doing what everyone told him not to,” Hank whispered back. “I’ve seen this sort of thing in power plants, where some hoity-toity fellow with a degree from a fancy school starts directing the engineers on how to change everything. It usually ends when he insists on touching a cable no one else will go near.”
“What happens then?” asked Hugo.
Pellinor bent down and lifted up the sword and scabbard in one swift motion. He held it, smiling triumphantly, then grasped the hilt and attempted to remove the sword—which stayed exactly where it was.
Pellinor’s smile faltered, and he redoubled his effort, putting the sword between his legs for leverage and using both hands. Finally, incredibly, the sword shifted one-quarter of an inch within the scabbard.
“Aha!” Pellinor exclaimed. “That’s—”
A tremendous bolt of lightning erupted from the sword itself, shooting skyward and filling the valley with thunder. It threw Pellinor out of the hole and about twenty feet into the dust, scorched and smoking.
“That’s what happens,” said Hank, shaking his head.
“Is he alive?” the Lawgiver asked.
One of the knights, who had ducked as Pellinor flew overhead, went over to where he lay and put a blade of grass in front of the old king’s nose.
“He’s breathing,” reported the knight. “For now.”
“Well and good,” said the Lawgiver. “As I was saying, you seven great kings have proven your worth to compete—”
“To be the High King?” one of the seven bellowed. “To be Pendragon?”
Taliesin nodded and raised his staff.
A cheer went up from the assemblage, and the seven kings all looked at one another, each taking the measure of the others, trying to judge who among them might prevail.
“Tomorrow morning,