Treasures of Fantasy - Margaret Weis [118]
“But who could possibly—”
“I don’t know, nor does it matter,” said Xydis impatiently. “The Bone Priestess, Treia, must talk to her sister, find out Skylan’s secret this morning before the game commences. Whoever tried to have Skylan killed once will try again. What better place for a murder than in the arena?”
Treia traveled the distance to Acronis’s villa in a covered conveyance provided by the Church. She entered the slave compound and, after same searching, found her sister in one of the tents. Aylaen was regarding with dismay and outrage the outlandish armor she had been given to wear in the game—a skirt of tooled leather that barely covered her hips and a leather chest protector that barely covered her breasts. She would wear metal greaves and bracers, but no helmet, so that the spectators could admire her beauty, so Keeper told her.
Hearing someone enter, Aylaen looked around. She was too angry to be surprised to see her sister.
“Look at this! Look what they are making me wear!” Aylaen gestured to the armor.
“You have dressed like a man for months. You should be used to making a spectacle of yourself by now,” said Treia.
Aylaen flashed her an irate glance. Belatedly Treia remembered that she was here to persuade her sister to tell her Skylan’s secret.
“I’m sorry,” said Treia with a stiff smile. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just . . . ever since the night in the shrine, I’ve been so worried about you. Did you talk to Skylan?”
“No,” said Aylaen shortly.
She kept her face averted and Treia knew she was lying. Aylaen was a terrible liar.
“Why not? You’ve had time.”
“I’ll wear this armor if I must, but I’m going to wear breeches underneath it,” Aylaen said, trying to change the subject.
Treia was not to be deterred. “You must talk to Skylan today, Aylaen. Ask him today to tell you the secret of the Vektia.”
“Why today particularly?” Aylaen asked, glancing curiously at her sister.
“The Para Dix is dangerous,” Treia said. “Something might happen to him. If Skylan is the only one who knows the secret of the Vektan dragons, you must get him to tell you. Otherwise it might be lost forever.”
“I’m playing in the game,” said Aylaen. “Aren’t you afraid something will happen to me?”
“I am not worried about you, Sister,” Treia said with a made-up smile. “Aelon will keep you safe.”
Aylaen frowned at her sister.
“Then why won’t Aelon protect Skylan?”
Aylaen’s eyes widened with alarm. “Something bad is going to happen to Skylan. What? What is it?”
“I know I am being overcautious,” said Treia, sitting on the cot. “Raegar assures me the Para Dix is perfectly safe. No player has died in months. But accidents do happen and the secret of the Vektan Dragons is so very important that we dare not take any chances. You must talk to Skylan today.”
Aylaen was silent a moment. She sat down beside Treia and asked in an altered voice, “What would happen if Skylan didn’t know this secret?”
“Of course, he knows it!” said Treia. “Garn told you he knows it.” She reached out her hand and smoothed Aylaen’s rampant hair. “Skylan loves you, Sister. He would do anything for just a smile—”
Aylaen’s eyes flared. “I won’t play the whore with him, if that’s what you’re asking me to do!”
Treia lost patience. “Just find out the damn secret!” she said, and stormed out of the tent.
Following the dedication ceremony in the Temple was a parade through the streets of Sinaria known as the Procession of the Players. Each team marched down the street in the order of their ranking. As a new team—“unblooded”—the Barbarians, as the Legate called them, marched last.
The Torgun dressed in their own armor, all except Aylaen, who wore the fancy armor Acronis had provided for her, with leather trousers beneath it. She would dress like this or she would not participate, she told Keeper, and the ogre had assured Acronis that she meant it. The Torgun carried their own shields, though