Free Michelle West - The Sun Sword 02 - The Uncrowned King by The Uncrowned King Page B

very competent man, who's been sword-trained and dagger-trained, born to the saddle and gods alone know what else. Make him a man who, of all these entrants,
does
have something to prove." She smiled as Duarte went suddenly pale.
    "Alexis, if this is a joke—"
    "Not even I have a sense of humor this grim." She waited, and then, when Duarte did not deign to interrupt her silence, added, "Valedan kai di'Leonne has undergone the trial, before judges, and has been chosen as one of the hundred men who will undergo the King's Challenge."
    "This is
insane
. The boy's sun-mad!" Ramiro kai di'Callesta felt the chill of the night winds stretching across a continent. Here, in these so-called Annagarian halls, there was water and wind and the touch of the open sky. And men who did not wish to risk the scouring of the wind stayed inside, in safety. An old adage.
    This day, this single day, he would have given much for the company of his wife, the Serra Amara, known across the width and breadth of the Dominion of Annagar for her gentle qualities. But although they stood beneath the warmth of the same sun, toiled beneath the blue of the same sky, the boundary that separated them, one from the other, was more than mere distance: She resided within Callesta, the city of his ancestors, in the heart of the verdant and much-prized Averda—and he, he stood as honored guest within the palace of the Imperial Kings, Reymalyn and Cormalyn. A nation stood between them, and the ghost of each old war that had moved the boundary of Annagar or Essalieyan by mere tens of miles every few decades or so. He wished her momentary advice and her silliness—for she, alone of many, could evoke laughter from his dourest mood.
    But she was there. He was here. He made do. "The boy doesn't realize what he risks."
    His brother, Fillipo par di'Callesta, nodded grimly. "Perhaps he will listen to the Wolf of Callesta, where he would not listen to a mere par." He leaned back into the shadows cast over the fountain by the light of morning sun; his hair, removed from the glinting light, was as dark as his brother's, his eyes as narrow. There was, between these two, a very strong family resemblance; it had often been said that the clan Callesta was doubly blessed: first, for being graced with two men of such high caliber and second, for the real affection and loyalty between them. Both were true.
    Ser Kyro di'Lorenza snorted. He ran a hand through age-paled hair before returning it to its customary repose atop sword hilt. He was Annagarian bred and born, a man with little taste for politics and much for war. "I fail to see the insanity in it, Tyr'ag-nate," he said, his tone neutral with respect. He was both beholden to this man—they all were, for his coming had sealed their survival—and suspicious of him. Ramiro di'Callesta was known across the Dominion as the Imperial Tyr.
    And he knew it. His smile was brittle indeed as he acknowledged Ser Kyro's comment. "Baredan?"
    "I am not in a position to comment," the General Baredan di'Na-varre replied. "But if the boy succeeds—"
    "There is no chance that he will succeed, brother," Fillipo said quietly.
    "If he fails, he will lose more than he gains if he succeeds. Why take the risk?"
    It was Ser Kyro who answered, and at that, only after the shadows of the day had grown visibly shorter. "There are clansmen here who will take that same test. They need only know that he can best them, and they will be impressed."
    "It is not as simple a thing as that, Ser Kyro."
    "It is
exactly
as simple a thing as that, Ser Ramiro. You play a Tyrian game, and you play it exceptionally well. I do not. And although it might pain you to admit it, most of the men—the Lord's men—do not. We see clearly because we desire simple things: A good horse. A good wife. Strong sons, a strong sword, a battle worthy of killing and dying in. But more than this, a leader worthy of following."
    Even Baredan had the grace to wince slightly at Ser Kyro's