Sovereign

'Do not ask for mercy, Lord of Aman,' Eynon said fiercely. 'For what you have done against my people, I will grant you none.'

All eyes settled on Marin. 'You are the leader of these barbarian worms?' he demanded.

'Eynon, chief of the Horse Clan, deputy of King Lynan Rosetheme.' Eynon smiled then. 'The same King Lynan who split open your son.'

Marin's face clouded and he roared his defiance. 'Single combat, Chett! You against me!'

'If you win?'

'My warriors live.'

Eynon considered this for a moment. 'And you?'

Marin shrugged. 'What does it matter any more?'

Eynon shrugged in turn. 'Truth. Very well.'

Warriors on both sides fell back to make room for the two leaders. Marin took a step down from the throne, turned to a pale clerk standing by the throne who gamely held a sword that was too big for her, and said: 'Lingdar, whatever happens to me, please record how I gut this Chett.'

The clerk looked at her lord with big eyes and nodded.

Marin leaped towards Eynon, his axe swinging above his head. Eynon dodged to his left and the axe crashed into the granite floor, gouging out chips, sending sparks into the air. Eynon's sabre slashed in reply, but for all its size, Marin could wield the axe as easily as Eynon wielded his sword, and he brought it up in time to block the blow. The weapons clanged, the sound echoing in the throne room. Warriors from both sides cheered.

Marin twisted his wrist and the axe blade turned, jamming Eynon's sabre, then punched with his left fist, catching Eynon just under the ribs. Eynon gasped, turned to his left to free his sabre, but Marin kept up with him, spinning on his heel. He punched again, a glancing blow against the Chett's ear. Eynon shouted, let go of his sabre, jumped forward and used his elbow to land a blow on the king's nose. It was Marin's turn to cry out and he stumbled back, bringing his axe up defensively. The sabre dropped and Eynon caught it midair, twisted on his heel and slashed towards the king's midriff. Marin saw the move and blocked it with the axe handle, changed his grip and let the axe swing down and then up. Eynon danced out of the way, but not quickly enough. The axe blade sliced across his chest.

Makon, with every other Chett in the hall, gasped in horror. For a moment no one moved, not even Marin.

Eynon looked down, blood seeping through his jerkin. He looked up at Marin and said: 'Not deep enough.' He lunged forward with the sabre before Marin could react, and the king's body seemed to swallow half the blade. Marin gasped, doubled over, took Eynon's sword with him. Eynon bent over to pick up Marin's axe, brought it up over his head and swung it down so hard it sheared clean through Marin's bull-like neck and bounced off the stone floor. Blood fountained into the air. Eynon dropped the axe and rolled over the king's body, placed a foot on his chest and tugged free his sabre. He then strode over to Lingdar, casually knocked aside her sword and breathed into the cleric's terrified face: 'Whatever happens, please record how I cut off your master's head.'

Eynon stood up straight, turned to his Chetts. 'If Marin's warriors surrender now, they will be spared.'

Immediately there was the sound of spears, swords, bows and daggers dropping to the floor.

Eynon grinned down at all of them. 'So much for that,' he said. He swayed on his feet, seemed to tip over to one side, and collapsed.

There was light first, and then shade. The light hurt Eynon's eyes, and the shade confused him. And his whole body hurt as if it had been split in two. Then he remembered. He had been split in two, or near enough to still survive the experience. He tried to take a deep breath. The spasm of pain made him moan out loud.

'How do you feel?' asked a voice he recognised.

Eynon licked his lips. He tried a word experimentally, but it came out as a croak.

'If you were going to ask "How long?", the answer is five days.'

The shade solidified into Makon's face. Eynon tried speaking again. 'No.'

Makon grinned at him. 'No, you don't believe it's been five days, or no that wasn't what you were going to ask?'

'Water?'

Makon took a cup from a nearby table, gently eased Eynon's head up and let him take a sip. It was cold and good and made his mouth feel less like a rat's nest. 'I was going to say…' he started, but his mouth gummed up again. He took more water. 'I was going to say that was the most stupid question I have ever heard.'

Makon grunted. 'Well, however you feel, you're confined to bed for some time to come.'

'Bed?' Eynon realised then where he was. He had never lain down on anything quite as comfortable as this before. And the room had real windows, with glass. Sun was pouring in. The air was warm. He glanced down at his body. A long ridge ran from the tip of his ribcage down to his navel, criss-crossed by stitches. The skin around the ridge was yellow and purple, and dried blood encrusted each stitch. 'Beautiful,' he said.

'Wennem did it,' Makon said. 'No one else was game. She said you saved her, and she wasn't going to let you die.'

'It's only a cut.'

'She had to stitch part of your stomach too.'

'Oh.' He frowned. 'I remember being sliced. Not much after.'

'You beheaded King Marin. Aman has fallen. The province is yours.'

'Mine?' Eynon shook his head. 'No. I am a Chett. I don't need a province. It belongs to Lynan, if anyone.'

Makon looked seriously at him. 'You wanted to be king once, did you not?'

'What do you mean?'

'When you opposed Korigan. I thought you were the enemy of my people back then.'

'And what do you think now?'

'Did you want to be king?' Makon persisted.

'Never. I just didn't think we Chetts needed a monarch at all. I admit I was probably wrong, but now we have tied ourselves to Lynan the issue is irrelevant. So tell me, Makon, you have been by my side now for a long time. We have fought together. We have shared food. Did Lynan ask you to watch me?'

'Of course.'

'Did he ask you to kill me?'

Makon pursed his lips.

'You can kill me now and no one would be the wiser,' Eynon said carefully. 'You could just say I never recovered from the wound.'

'I was to use my discretion,' Makon said. 'I have used it. You live.'

'Help me sit up.'

Makon did, with some difficulty. It was hard finding a position for Eynon that did not put too much pressure on the stitches, but he refused to lie down again.

'More water.'

Makon helped him drink some more from the cup.

'What does Lynan really think of me?'

'At first he thought you were a thorn in his side. Then when you came to join him after all, he was not sure what to think of you. Then you helped win Daavis for him, and he thought very highly of you. He likes you.'

'But he still wanted to make sure of my loyalty.'

'He is king. You and Korigan are the keys that determine Lynan's hold over the Chetts. He has Korigan's support. He had to have yours as well.'

'Or be rid of me entirely.'

Makon nodded.

'What will you report to Lynan now?'

'That his loyal servant Eynon has taken Aman for him.'

'And what will you do next, oh faithful servant?'

Makon smiled. 'Return to my clan.' He glanced outside. 'Eventually. The clear sky and shining sun are deceptive. Winter is setting in around the mountains. We are trapped here until spring.' He bounced on the bed, making Eynon groan. 'Still, the palace will make it a warm and comfortable winter.'