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Pages 288-304 of Ironside: The Duel. Enjoy!

Rath Roiben Rye stepped pat the icy graves as the cold wind blew harshly. The weather matched the mood perfectly, the overcast sky matching the color of his armor. His knights flanked him as he walked to the place of the duel, where Silarial waited, her own knights standing near her.

Roiben bent low to the ground, while the Queen made a shallow bow.

He cleared his throat, mindlessly saying the formal words, his mind racing as he thought of a plan. It was now almost solid in his mind, but he double-checked and triple-checked mentally, making sure Silarial had no openings from which to foil him.

"For decades there has been a truce between the Seelie and Unseelie courts. I am both proof of and witness to that old bargain, and I would broker it again. Lady Silarial, do you agree if I defeat your champion, you will concede a concord between our two courts?"

"If you deal my champion a mortal blow, I so swear. If my champion lies dying on this field, you will have your peace."

"And do you also have further wager in this battle?" he prodded, noting she had left out the part about giving up her crown.

She smiled, but the sight was not beautiful to him as it once was. Now it was sinister and evil, plotting. "I will also give over my throne to the Lady Ethine. Gladly will I set the crown of the Seelie Court upon her head, kiss her cheeks, and step down to be her servant if you win."

He kept his face impassive as the now-familiar anger boiled to the surface.

Treacherous snake. She intended to do no such thing. He should have guessed sooner – she would rather die than give up her throne. She was much too hungry for the crown and the power it brought with it.

"And if I die on the field of battle, you shall rule over the Unseelie Court in my place, Lady Silarial. To this I swear." But not if he could help it. He would not die here.

"And now I must name my champion," Silarial said, a sinister smile slitting her face. "Lady Ethine, take up arms for me. You are to be the defender of the Bright Court."

Ethine shook her head, saying nothing, while the crowd began to whisper and murmur among themselves.

"How you must hate me," he said. The words were soft, but they seemed to float over the crowd, carried and fanned out by the breeze.

"Go," he told his knights, watching as Silarial turned back to the safety of the sidelines and her people gave Ethine armor and placed a sword in her limp grip. He could see the uncertainty in the faces of his court as they questioned his loyalties. They need not worry – he would not let Silarial win this.

Hobs scattered herbs to mark boundaries as Roiben unsheathed his sword. It shone cruelly in the light as he made a bow.

"You don't mean to do this," his sister told him. It came out like a question.

"Are you ready, Ethine?" he asked her, bringing his sword up as if she had not said anything at all.

She shook her head. A pang of protectiveness and pity resonated in his chest as he saw her shiver convulsively, tears running down her cheeks. He pushed it back, knowing that Silarial was playing on those emotions.

Ethine dropped her sword. "Pick it up," he told her, his voice patient. He was reminded of the time when they were children when he had taught her how to climb trees. She had fallen many times, but with his help, she was soon scrambling up the tallest oaks with ease.

Their blades clashed together, shining like water. Ethine staggered back, her sword overbalancing her slight frame.

Roiben wanted to stop, but he knew that he would not really hurt her. He just needed to beat her. But he was holding back, not swinging as hard or as fast as he could.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kaye talking to Silarial, who looked very sure of herself. So. She thought he wasn't going to win. Well, he would prove her wrong.

With a flick of his wrist, he sent Ethine's sword flying. There was a cry from the audience as Ethine fell to the snow. He held the tip of his blade at her throat as she struggled to get up. She looked afraid and desperate. He smiled down at her kindly, trying to appease her.

Now, Silarial looked worried, he noted with glee. He made sure his words were loud enough to carry over the field. He wanted her to hear this, loud and clear.

"Since it seems that the crown of the Bright Court will come to you after your death, tell me upon whom you wish to bestow it. Let me do this one last thing for you as your brother.

He saw the Queen, her face full of rage as she leapt up. Beside her, Kaye looked immensely relieved. He wondered if she thought he would have killed Ethine without a thought. No, he was not that heartless. He would try everything else before it would come to that.

"Hold!" Silarial shouted as she came towards him. "That was not part of the bargain." The herbs burst into green flames, as they were charmed to do whenever someone entered the field before the end of the duel.

Wailing rose from his court as hers stayed silent. Roiben stepped back from Ethine, letting his blade fall from its position n her throat. She fell back, turning her head into the snow to hide her face.

"Neither was your interrupting this fight," he said coolly. "You may not reconsider our bargain now that it no longer favors you," he added, knowing that she would try to bend her own rules.

It was his court's turn to stay quiet as murmurs rose from the Seelie.

Ethine stumbled, trying to get to her feet. He reached out a hand to help her, but she did not take it. Her eyes were full of hate as she looked at him. The sting of pain at that was lessened by the fact that the emotion stayed in her eyes as she looked toward Silarial. She wordlessly picked up her sword, clutching it so hard that her knuckles went white.

"My oath was that the crown would go to Ethine if you killed my champion. I did not promise she could choose a successor." Her voice was shrill with the realization that she may be forced to give up her precious throne.

"That was not yours to promise. What is hers in death, she may give with her last breath. Perhaps she will even pass it back to you." After the way that Ethine had looked towards her mistress, he knew that possibility was slim. "Unlike the Unseelie crown that is won by blood, the Seelie successor in chosen," he continued, knowing full well that she was aware of this and angered by the fact that he was telling her about it.

"I will not have my crown bestowed on one of my own handmaidens, nor will I be lessoned by one who once knelt at my feet. You are not one part what Nicnevin was."

Once. Once knelt at your feet. Never again.

"And you are too much like her," he replied, questioning how he could have ever loved this woman, yet hated Nicnevin. They were so alike – how had he not seen it during the days of his knighthood?

Three Seelie knights strode toward their mistress as she spoke again.

"Were our people to fight, even now, I would win. I think that gives me leave to dictate terms."

She thought that her court could overpower his easily, that he would buckle under the threat. How little she knew. This time, he was the one with the trick up his sleeve.

"Will you void our agreement, then?" he asked, knowing the answer but wanting her to say it out loud so all may hear it. "Will you stop this duel?"

"Before I let you have my crown!" she spat.

That was the answer he was looking for.

"Ellebere!" he shouted. The knight knew his part well, drawing out a wooden flute from his armor and blowing three notes on to it.

On cue, fey of all types began to move. Merfolk drew themselves onto the beach as faeries stepped out from behind buildings and trees and graves. There was an ogre, a troll, a horde of goblins. The exiled fey had come to stand behind him.

Shouts came from the crowd as the Night Court and solitary fey moved to surround Silarial and her people, but he ignored them, focusing on the Bright Lady's shocked expression.

'You planned an ambush?" she demanded.

"I've been making some alliances," he said, trying to hide a smile at how incredulous she seemed. Did she think she was the only one who could plot? "Some – many – of the exiled fey were interested to know that I would accept them into my court. I would guarantee their safety even, for a mere day and night of service. Tonight. Today. You are not the only one with machinations." He couldn't resist throwing in the last sentence.

"I see you have played to some purpose," she said. She looked at him in a new way, as if she didn't know who he was.

And she didn't. She had never really known who he was. She hadn't bothered to find out, so she only knew the old Roiben, the knight who had been desperately in love with her. That Roiben would have fallen for this trick, but that was not who he was anymore.

She continued, and he could see her trying to figure out why he was doing this. "What is it? For what do you scheme? Ethine's death would weigh on you and the stain of her blood would seep into your skin."

He knew she was right – his conscious would never let him sleep at night had he gone through with it. Yet, he had been planning to had this failed. For a moment, he wished he were still the knight who wouldn't have gone through with it. He wished he was honorable enough to let himself be killed. But he was not only thinking of himself – what he wanted mattered not at all.

"Do you know what they wish for you when they give you the Unseelie crown?" he asked softly, secretively, remembering his coronation. "That you be made of ice. What makes you think it matters what I feel? What makes you think I feel anything at all? Now surrender the crown to my sister."

"I will not," she proclaimed defiantly. "I will never."

"Then there will be a battle," he proclaimed, his words confident and sure. "And when the Unseelie Court is victorious, I will snatch that crown from your head and grant it as I see fit."

He would give it to someone responsible and kind, someone he could trust to rule with care. A thought flitted into his head in the space of a second.

Would Kaye like to be Queen of the Seelie?

He did not dwell on the question or the complications it posed.

"All wars have casualties." She nodded towards somebody in the crowd. He followed her line of sight to see Talathain's hand come down on Kaye's cheek and her side. He saw her pressure of his hand, making her wince as he dug his fingers into her skin. There was unrestrained terror in her eyes, even as she tried to tone it down. He could see her mind racing as his did the same.

Talathain's fingers squeezed Kaye cruelly. They pressed down on the soft skin of her hip and cheek. He wanted to pull out his sword an threaten him – he knew his fingers would leave bruises.

He couldn't let them hurt her. Never. How was he going to get out of this? He wanted to run Silarial through right there, and then merely let her Court cut him down. But his responsibilities weighed down on him. It didn't matter what he wanted.

"Make one move, make one command," she said, a sinister smile playing over her lips as she turned to look at Kaye, "and she will be the first."

He couldn't move against Silarial for fear of what she would order Talathain to do to Kaye. He turned to the Seelie knight instead. He knew Talathain – he was honorable. Surely he wouldn't do this. He couldn't kill an innocent girl merely because his Queen had told him to.

"Ah, Talathain, how you have fallen. I thought you were her knight, but you have become only her woodsman – taking little girls to the forest to cut out their hearts."

He saw his fingers dig harder into Kaye's flesh, making her gasp. That little sound caused his heart to squeeze in his chest. She was in pain. He had to help her.

So. Talathain had become another puppet in Silarial's game. He would have to find something else, some other advantage.

"Now give up your crown, Roiben," Silarial said, her eyes shining with triumph. "Give it up to me as you should have when you got it, as fit tribute to your Queen."

"You're not his Queen," his sister said, her voice sounding dull and numb. "And neither are you mine."

The Bright Queen spun toward her, a look of fury upon her features at the statement. Ethine plunged the blade that she was still gripping into the Bright Queen's chest.

Roiben saw the blood pool onto the frosting-white dress that she was wearing. The blood fell to the snow, looking as though someone had scattered brilliant rubies on the ground.

Silarial fell, her face full of surprise.

Talathain shouted at the sight. Roiben himself was in shock at the action of his sister, but not so much that he did not notice with anger the way Talathain roughly pushed Kaye to the ground, causing her to land on her hands and knees.

The knight stepped over both of the bodies, stepping toward Ethine, his sword held aloft. He swung his hand downward while Ethine stood there, undefended.

His instincts kicked in, and he stepped between the blade and his sister, catching the blow on his back. He felt a sharp pain from his shoulder to his hip, causing him to let out a gasp as he fell, pinning Ethine underneath him.

He rolled off of her, shifting into a crouch as he faced the Seelie knight, who was now kneeling beside his mistress. He stood stiffly, acutely aware of the pain shooting through his body.

Ethine's frame shook with the force of her sobs as Talathain looked at her. "What have you done?" he demanded.

His sister tore at her hair and dress in a frenzy until Kaye caught her hands, stilling them.

"He did not deserve to be used so," she said, her voice thick with tears but also mixed in with hysterical laughter.

"It's done," Kaye said, her voice soothing, as if she were reassuring a child. He saw through her façade, though, seeing the fear still present in her eyes.

"Come on. Stand up, Ethine," she coaxed.

Roiben cut the circlet from the dead Queen's head, chunks of her bright copper hand coming into his hand.

"That crown is not yours," Talathain said, though his voice lacked any conviction. He looked to the assembled creatures, no doubt comparing Roiben's forces to those of the Bright Court.

"I was just getting it for my sister," he said, suddenly feeling very tired.

He held it out to Ethine, but she shuddered at the sight. "Here," he said, picking off the hair and ice that covered it. He wiped it on his breastplate to clean it, but it came away red. His brow knitted before he saw the blood that was running down is arm and soaking his armor.

"Put your puppet on the throne. You may make her Queen, but she won't be Queen for long."

Ethine shivered again, her white face even paler. "My brother needs his attendants."

"You brought her flowers," he said to Talathain. "Don't you remember?"

The other man's face was hard, his eyes cold and full of hate. "That was a very long time ago, before she killed my Queen. No, she won't rule for long. I'll see to that."

He was stunned. Talathain had loved Ethine for as long as he could remember, much before he had even mustered the courage to give her flowers. He pined for her and loved her. And now – none of it mattered? He had simply stopped loving her, because of Silarial. Was he that mindless, that his adoration for the Queen overcame any other emotions?

Had he been like that?

He couldn't imagine not loving Kaye, for any reason. Even when she had threatened his sister, he had still loved her.

He spoke slowly, still puzzling over this. "Very well. If you would not swear loyalty to her, perhaps you will kneel and swear your loyalty to me."

"The Seelie crown must be given – you can not murder your way to it," the knight said defiantly, holding him at swordpoint.

"Wait," came Kaye's voice as she pulled Ethine up. "Who do you want to get the crown?"

Talathain didn't waver. "It doesn't matter what she says."

"It does!" Kaye shouted at him. "Your Queen made Ethine her heir. Like it or not, she gets to say what happens now."

His chamberlain strode to the field. Roiben did not miss the quick smile he gave Kaye as he passed her. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Ruddles, indignant that anyone dare smile at his girl.

He pushed the thought out of his mind, telling himself he was being ridiculous. It was just a friendly gesture, Ruddles's way of showing the newfound approval of Kaye which he had developed since she completed the quest.

Ruddles cleared his throat. "When one court ambushes and conquers the gentry of another court, their rules of inheritance are no longer applicable."

"We'll be following Unseelie custom," Dulcamara purred, delighted at the prospect.

"No," Kaye said defiantly – and rather bravely. He couldn't help the swell of love and pride as he looked at her. "It's Ethine's choice who gets the crown or if she keeps it."

Ruddles started to protest, but he was cut off. "Kaye is correct. Let my sister decide."

"Take it. Take it and be damned," his sister told him hollowly.

Roiben was surprised at this. His fingers traced over the symbols on the crown, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that it was his. He was king of both courts now. "It seems I will be coming home after all," he said, the words sounding strange in his mouth.

Talathain took a step toward Ethine, and Kaye dropped her hand, seeming to tense up for his swing.

"How can you give this monster sovereignty over us? He would have paid for his peace with your death."

"He wouldn't have killed her," Kaye proclaimed, her voice strong and confident. His heart squeezed a little at her trust. He knew he didn't deserve it. If worst came to worst, he would have. But he was immensely relieved it had not come to that. He didn't think he could bear the sight of Kaye's face when he betrayed that trust.

Ethine looked away. "You have all turned into monsters."

"Now the price of peace is merely her hatred. That I am willing to pay," he said, ignoring the feelings that accompanied the statement.

"I will never accept you as King of the Seelie Court," Talathain spat, not giving in.

Roiben raised his hand and set the circlet on his brow.

"It is done, whether you accept it or no," his chamberlain said.

"Let me finish the duel in your sister's place. Fight me," he demanded.

"Coward," Kaye spat, her eyes narrowing. "He's already hurt."

"Your Bright Lady broke her compact with us," Dulcamara said. She turned to him. "Let me kill this knight for you, my Lord." He knew she was thirsty for bloodshed, but he ignored her.

"Fight me!" Talathain demanded again.

Roiben nodded. He lifted his sword from the blood-splattered snow. "Let's give them the duel they came for."

They circled each other slowly. He was filled with a sense of déjà vu as he remembered the events after his negotiations with Silarial. He had started to fight Talathain the, too. But this time, they would not be stopped. There would be a victor and a loser.

And he was determined to be victorious.

The other knight slammed his blade down, but Roiben parried, sending the other knight back.

Talathain danced at the edges of Roiben's reach. He knew Talathain was trying to tire him. He saw a drop of blood run down his arm and fall off the tip of his sword, melting the snow beneath.

"You're wounded," the Seelie reminded him. "How long do you really think you'll last?"

"Long enough," he replied, determined to cut him down.

He saw Kaye on the sidelines, looking worried and unsure as she watched anxiously.

Roiben fought desperately. He was no longer fighting Talathain – he was fighting himself, what he might have become. He would have been a knight who pined for his mistress, willing to throw away one who truly loved him for her. And it was not worth it.

"Silarial was right about you, was she not? She said you wanted to die."

"Come and find out," he taunted, knowing that the statement was untrue. He had considered it, yes, but if was dead, it meant he couldn't be with Kaye.

He swept the blade through the air rapidly, making the air hiss. Talathain parried but recovered fast and thrust toward him.

He grabbed the other's pommel, forcing the sword up and using the opportunity to kick his feet from under him. He fell n the snow.

He stood over him, pointing his blade at the knight's throat and forcing him to go still.

"Come and get the crown if you want it. Come and take it from me." There was a plea as well as a threat in his words. He didn't want this crown, he didn't want this responsibility. But he had to, no matter how much he just wanted a quiet, peaceful life with Kaye.

Talathain didn't move.

Two of his court came forward and disarmed him.

"You'll never hold both courts," he said, struggling to get to his knees.

Roiben swayed a little, and Kaye put her arm under his. He hesitated before leaning against her. She nearly stumbled backwards before regaining her footing.

"We'll hold the Bright Court just as your mistress would have held us," Dulcamara purred, drawing out her knife and pressing the point to his cheek. "Pinned down in the dirt. Now tell your new Lord what a fine little puppy his cleverness has bough him. Tell him you'll bark at his command."

Ethine stood stiffly, closing her eyes.

"I will not serve the Unseelie Court. I will not become like you."

Roiben wished he wasn't like himself either. He wanted to be someone better, someone worthy to be King. Someone worthy of Kaye. He resolved that he would be – he would do everything in his power to be just and fair.

"I envy you that choice."

"I'll make him bark," Dulcamara said.

"No. Let him go," he ordered. Dulcamara looked surprised before her face fell at the fact that she would not get to slit any throats today. Talathain was already on his feet, pushing his way through the throng.

"Behold our undoubted Lord Roiben, King of both the Unseelie and the Seelie courts. Make your obeisances to him."

Roiben teetered again, his injuries catching up to him. Kaye tightened her grip on him and he remained standing. He surveyed the crowd.

His voice was all breath when he spoke again. "I'll be better than she was," he vowed, pulling Kaye closer to his side.

He would be someone who was worthy of her.


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