Losara did so, allowing everyone a good look at him. He even smiled politely at a few of them.
‘As many of you know, I have seen to his care and tutelage since he first arrived at Skygrip,’ continued Battu. ‘He is the child of power, born of prophecy to overthrow the light.’ Battu paused, casting his gaze slowly around his audience. ‘I intend to name him Apprentice.’
Low talk broke out. Battu sat down on Refectu, his black cloak melting into its crevices, and smiled smugly.
‘Look at him,’ Peasa whispered. ‘He desires a challenge.’
‘It’s better for the Apprentice if there is one,’ said Kakurd. ‘To display his suitability.’
Battu leaned forward and the scattered talk ceased abruptly. ‘I will hear any discussion on this matter.’
From the Arabodedas camp, Counsellor Tysek cleared his throat cautiously. He was a middle-aged man with curly black hair, a bit on the tubby side. ‘My great lord,’ he said, bowing deeply.
‘Counsellor Tysek,’ acknowledged Battu.
‘My lord, the Arabodedas are not convinced that this boy should inherit the mantle of rule.’
‘The mantle of rule?’ said Battu, raising an eyebrow dangerously. ‘It will be a long time before that is passed on, I can assure you. Perhaps not in your lifetime.’
‘Of course, my lord,’ amended Tysek hastily. ‘I only meant that it has always been understood by the council that the one named Apprentice is the Shadowdreamer’s heir.’
‘It still remains the council’s responsibility to choose a new Shadowdreamer when the time comes,’ said Battu.
When the time came, in fact, the title went to whomever had the strength to crush all opposition.
‘The one chosen by you,’ said Tysek, ‘will be the one to journey across the Black Sea, my lord.’
Battu frowned vaguely, but nodded. ‘As you say.’
Tysek continued. ‘We feel, Shadowdreamer, that there is someone more …appropriate …to your tutelage, who would serve Fenvarrow better. And he is a native of our land, lord.’
‘And he has courage, which I admire,’ said Battu. ‘It is not a faint-hearted thing to challenge the child of power.’ He let his words sink in, then: ‘He is here, no doubt?’
The Arabodedas called Roma stepped briskly forward – further forward than Tysek – and sank to his knee before Battu. He was a young man, Losara’s age, wearing a black vest over a green shirt. His black hair was pulled back in a shiny ponytail and streaked with red dye, as was the fashion in the Arabodedas capital of Afei Edres. ‘I am Roma, my lord,’ he said.
‘Roma, my lord,’ echoed Tysek quickly, attempting to cover the youth’s spirited forwardness. ‘It is he whom we present to you. His talent for magic and his affinity with the shadow have been clear to all from an early age.’
‘Who trained him?’ asked Battu, staring hard at Roma.
‘Memtas, my lord. She claims he is the most powerful mage out of Afei Edres in all her years of watching.’
‘She has seen many years,’ said Battu. ‘I don’t discount the opinion of Memtas lightly. Rise, Roma, and tell me why you deem yourself worthy to challenge my selected Apprentice.’
Roma rose, straight and proud, and spoke in clear and pompous tones. ‘My great lord,’ he said, and gestured to the silently watching Losara, ‘forgive me if I doubt this to be the result of prophecy. We have all heard the stories of his miscreated birth. If they are true, then he is only half the man he was supposed to be.’
He made a show of staring down Losara, who held Roma’s eyes calmly, his face a mask of neutrality.
‘I do not doubt him to be a mage of ability,’ Roma continued, ‘otherwise a leader as wise as yourself would not vouch for him. I only ask to prove that I, of whom my lord was not previously aware, be allowed to prove myself better.’
Battu smiled. ‘My young Roma, never presume to tell me of what I am aware. If I know how many pork pies the soldiers in the Open Halls eat each day, I can certainly find out what’s happening in my own lands.’
Roma was sensible enough to look abashed.
‘Your use of water in magic is particularly artful, I must say,’ continued Battu. ‘Some of your coastal displays have been very impressive. But are you up to the challenge so far from the sea?’
Roma shot Losara another malignant glare. He’d been taught to intimidate his opponent psychologically; a lesson, it seemed to Kakurd, that Battu had not taught Losara.
‘I am more than up to it, lord,’ said Roma.
‘Very well,’ said Battu, clapping his hands triumphantly. He stood and, with great drama that he obviously enjoyed, announced: ‘To the duelling cavern!’
Despite the passage to the duelling cavern being disused and cramped, the air that flowed through it was fresh and clean. This passage didn’t divide into others, but led to only one destination.
The duelling cavern had once been a large natural cave, but when the sides of Mount Mokan were carved away during the shaping of the castle, the cave had been cut in half. Now it existed in the side of Skygrip like a puncture wound, its mouth facing south across Gravewood. In the centre of the chamber was a lowered square cut into the floor, thirty paces wide. Standing at each corner were columns carved with runes: once activated, they contained any magic cast within the square. Outside observers were protected, and the mages within could battle with all their strength. There was a faint sense of energy in the chamber, perhaps from the powerful wards in the columns, or the blood of many mages soaked into the floor.
The council filed along the passage and then moved towards the square. Some vied for the best positions, while others, less trusting of the protective columns, hung back. All were excited. Shadow magic was not a strong defence against shadow – there was none of the natural oppositional force of light – so fights between shadow mages were famously fast and brutal.
Battu strode to an elevated stone seat facing south across the square. Losara walked behind him with Tyrellan. On the other side of the square, Roma was leaning nonchalantly against a column, without yet having stepped into the depression.
‘Be careful,’ said Tyrellan quietly as he and Losara parted ways.
I’m going to build you a world of pain, came Roma’s unbidden thought in Losara’s head.
Losara knew he was expected to reply. Battu had given up trying to teach him posturing, but Losara felt that, in the spirit of any good fight to the death, he should try. I’m … It was no good. Threats were meaningless to him.
I’m going to build you a grand house, he sent instead.
Sensing Roma’s confusion, he stepped down into the square, not pausing on the edge as Roma had. On seeing this Roma stepped down quickly too.
‘Hold, mages!’ called Turry. ‘Do not start without the order!’
Battu waggled his fingers and chanted softly and the runes on the columns began to pulse blue. ‘The square is sealed,’ he announced. ‘Neither magic nor mage will leave it until there is a victor. Begin on my mark.’
He raised his hand. ‘Begin!’ he said, his hand thumping down.
Roma attacked the moment the command was given. A flick of his fingers and a bolt of blue energy slammed into Losara’s shoulder. Losara’s cloak flapped around him as he sailed off his feet, arms flailing. He hit the ground flat on his back, the air audibly forced from his lungs.
Cheers went up from some of the council as Roma strode towards Losara’s sprawled body. The mage raised his arms as he went and tendrils of darkness curled out of the ground around Losara, forming snake-like heads and snapping downwards. Losara screamed as one reared back with a hunk of bloody flesh and shredded cloth hanging from its shadowy mouth.
He struggled to sit, managed to raise a hand at Roma and send an energy bolt back across the square. Roma leaned sideways while pushing at the air and the bolt veered away, smacking into the invisible barrier between the columns and sputtering to nothing. Meanwhile, snake after snake darted in to bite Losara, each one pulling back with a mouthful of flesh. Losara screamed and struggled as snakes wound round his limbs, pinning him down. Roma made a snake shape with his hand, taking direct control of one of the biting heads. As he plunged his hand up and down, the shadow snake echoed his movements, plunging into Losara’s neck, tearing loose trailing windpipe. Losara went still, though the snakes continued, and a giant pool of blood spread across the floor underneath him.