‘Wait until the competition’s over, eh?’ said Bel, eyeing off the range. ‘Very well.’
Once more he marched towards the Throne and Corlas fell in at his side, now grinning. Naphur saw them coming and burst into a relieved smile. Bel bowed before him.
‘My Throne,’ he said. ‘I am late, but I would still compete.’
Naphur clapped his hands in pleasure. ‘Of course, Bel,’ he said, and turned to the wasp translator. ‘Trusted of Cindeka, this is Bel Corinas, one of my best soldiers.’
Again the translator clicked and buzzed at the Trusted, who waggled her antennae and clicked back. The human interpreter spoke: ‘The Trusted is eager to see your man in action.’
Naphur nodded to Bel, who turned and made his way to the range. Wasp warriors were hovering in a row, firing off barbs towards the targets. As Corlas had said, they were extremely fast to notch new arrows and their accuracy was excellent. As Bel took up a position with the waiting contestants, he glanced over to see M’Meska baring her teeth at him in a lizard grin.
‘At last,’ she hissed. ‘Some real challenge, yes? Now we truly see who is race superior on this range.’ She bobbed her head and tapped her scaly chest. ‘Saurian,’ she added, for clarification.
The wasps on the range emptied their quivers and flitted back from the line. Scores were totalled and targets cleared. Stepping into position, Bel loosed off arrows in quick succession. They flew through the air shaft after shaft, each pounding deeply into the red centre of his target. The spectators watched in awe as he began to split arrows in a display of skill unmatched on the field. He swapped his grip on the bow to fire with his left hand and his accuracy remained unchanged. He lifted up a leg and shot from beneath it; pulled the bow over his head and shot that way; averted his eyes from the target to wink at the crowd as each arrow travelled a perfect course, not a single one falling outside the centre circle. Applause rose from the crowd. Bel hadn’t shown off like this for some time and, despite his distraction, it felt good.
So it went for the last few rounds. Thanks to Bel, the Varenkai score quickly overtook the Zyvanix’s. He looked over to see the wasp Trusted very still, Naphur looking uncomfortable and Corlas unreadable. The Trusted turned, clicked something to Naphur and took off without waiting to find out the final scores. Several of her guards rose to join her.
Bel bowed to the crowd and made his way back to the Throne, leaving behind a very sulky Saurian. As he arrived, the Trusted’s human interpreter was finishing speaking to Naphur. ‘Forgive my mistress – she desires respite from the sun.’
Naphur watched the interpreter leave, not seeming to know whether to be worried or pleased. ‘Well,’ he said to Bel, ‘that was quite a showing. Quite a showing indeed.’
‘Quite a showing up ,’ Corlas put in quietly.
‘Thank you,’ said Bel briskly. ‘My Throne, I must speak with you about an urgent matter.’
Naphur was still staring after the wasps and seemed not to hear. ‘Well,’ he said, almost to himself, ‘I don’t know whether she’s offended or not, but by Arkus it’s a relief that she’s gone.’ Finally he smiled at Bel. ‘Politics,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I didn’t become Throne to get mixed up in blasted politics , eh, Bel? It would all be easier if everyone just did what I said.’
‘My Throne, I must speak with you.’
Naphur unceremoniously wiped the sheen off his brow with his cloak. ‘Forgot to bring my poxy silk handkerchief,’ he said. ‘Now, what is it, Bel?’
Taking a deep breath, Bel launched into a somewhat confused yet passionate explanation about how Cydus had wronged Jaya. When he had finished, the older men both looked troubled.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Naphur. ‘I don’t see what I can do about it.’
‘You’re the Throne!’ said Bel. ‘Surely that counts for something!’
‘I like to think so,’ said Naphur, raising an eyebrow. ‘But Cydus is a noble, and his complaints against this Jaya girl are real. I can’t just disregard the laws our land is built on.’
‘Why not? Cydus did when he murdered Jaya’s partners!’
‘Her thieving partners,’ said Naphur. ‘It’s misconduct begotten of misconduct, and right now her word against Cydus’s is not enough to have him questioned by an overseer.’ He scratched one of his hairy arms. ‘What is this girl to you, Bel? Why have you taken such an interest in her case?’
‘She’s …’ began Bel, then shook his head in frustration. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’
‘Oh, so it’s like that, eh?’ said Naphur. ‘In which case I’m afraid I may very much understand.’ He sighed. ‘Please tell me you weren’t mixed up with her before this crime.’
Bel remained silent.
‘What is it, lad?’ asked Corlas. ‘Answer the Throne. How are you involved with this girl?’
‘I love her!’ yelled Bel, so loudly that some of the courtiers glanced over. He surprised even himself and fought to regain composure. ‘I don’t know how it happened, it just did.’ He raked a hand through his hair and looked away, falling silent.
Naphur exchanged a glance with Corlas, then stepped forward to take Bel by the shoulder.
‘My lad,’ he said. ‘You know I care about you, so what’s important to you is important to me …but this all seems very sudden. A pretty girl can sometimes turn our heads so that we think –’
‘No,’ said Bel, the fierceness of his look daring Naphur to challenge his conviction. ‘It isn’t like that. Not wishing to be crass, my Throne, but I’ve had plenty of pretty girls, and I know I’m not mistaken in this. This is different.’
Naphur sighed. ‘I see that it is. I believe you, Bel.’
‘Then?’
‘What would you have me do? Declare her innocent and set her free?’
Bel looked darkly at the ground. It was clear from Naphur’s tone that this was precisely what he could not do.
‘I’m sorry,’ continued Naphur. ‘I wish I could help, but I have responsibilities. The Thrones are not despots like the Shadowdreamers. Our land has laws so the people retain rights. I can’t rise above that, lest the traditions of a thousand years crumble to dust. I cannot be seen to pervert the course of justice . ’
‘I see,’ said Bel.
‘Bel –’
‘It’s all right!’ he said, trying to force calm into his tone. ‘I understand, my Throne. You have your duty.’ Anger scorched his voice, despite his efforts. ‘I’m sorry for asking this of you. I must go.’
With that he bowed abruptly and quickly took his leave.
Naphur sighed. ‘He asks too much, Corlas.’
‘Aye, my Throne. But that doesn’t mean you need do too little. Excuse me.’
Corlas followed his son, leaving the ruler of Kainordas looking perturbed.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Corlas, catching up to Bel with great strides.
‘To see her. I promised I’d ask the Throne for her release, and I won’t have her hoping in vain now I know that he won’t help.’
‘No, that wouldn’t do,’ agreed Corlas. They went in silence for a moment, then Corlas said, ‘Will you tell me of her?’
Bel glanced at his father in irritation, but saw that the man was simply curious. The hardness within him mellowed.
‘I would know,’ continued Corlas, ‘of the thief worthy enough to steal my son’s heart.’
Bel tried to repress a smile.
‘Indulge an old man,’ said Corlas.
‘All right !’ said Bel. ‘Stop it! I will tell you, if it will make you be quiet!’
He told Corlas the truth of how he’d met her and Corlas listened attentively …but when Bel began to describe her eyes, his expression turned strange.
‘What is it?’ asked Bel.