“She said yes,” Bud said, his face mortified.

Hump laughed. “Perfect! It went well then?”

They’d been waiting eagerly for Bud’s return, and even Vivienne had an amused look on her face.

“I think so, yeah,” Bud said, smiling as he nodded. “She was very nice, actually. It seems she was just as put out about the marriage as I was. This way, I can tell Arthur we’re getting to know each other, she can tell her family, and they will stop pestering us so that we can go about our lives.”

“So it’s a win all around.” Hump clapped his hands together. “We get a fifth party member, you get to go gallivanting across the lands with your gorgeous fiancée, and all the noble pricks will stop bothering us.”

“You truly have a way with words, Humphrey,” Vivienne said.

Bud shook his head, eyes panicked. “Please, for all the gods, do not say anything like that when she’s here.”

Hump winced. “The gods never did anything for me.”

“Then for me,” Bud pleaded. “It’s already awkward. And we should do what we can to make her feel welcome.”

Hump let out a long, reluctant sigh. “Fine. But she better be a damn good party member.”

“She will be,” Bud said.

“Did you discuss her abilities at all?” Dylan asked.

“Yes. She’s perfect actually. A martial that focuses on speed and precision, and she’s Iron 2, so fairly close to us already. She suggested we meet at her estate tomorrow and get to know each other.”

“Will we have time?” Celaine said, turning to Vivienne.

Bud frowned. “Has there been news?”

Vivienne’s face turned displeased. “Lord Ferrand has called for a meeting to discuss yesterday’s attack and the captured thug. The three of you are invited to attend.”

“While they said ‘invited’,” Hump said, “I get the impression we didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

Vivienne gave him an affirming nod.

Hump sighed. “I wonder if Randall’s father will be as pleasant as him. And Abraxus will probably be there too.”

“Stop worrying,” Celaine said. “He’s got no reason to suspect you unless you give him one. It will just be some questions.”

“It’s fine, isn’t it?” Bud said. “We suspected that might happen.”

Vivienne hesitated, then added, “Countess Daston has asked that information about the black stone be kept secret.”

“She wants us to lie to the Temple of Light?” Bud asked. “That doesn’t make any sense. We’re supposed to be working together.”

“It is not ideal, but the other factions within Sheercliff do not give favours for nothing,” Vivienne said. “Revealing that we have our own black stone will be playing her hand, and right now, we have no research to even make it worthwhile. Our preliminary tests could not deduce the artifact’s function or essence signature, so we know it’s not normal, but little more than that.”

“But what are we even supposed to say?” Bud asked. “It’s the reason they attacked us. They knew we brought it into the city, and that could happen to other people too.”

“Revenge for the warlock you killed while you were questing,” Vivienne said.

Bud paused. “Countess Daston instructed this herself?”

Vivienne nodded.

“I see.”

“All far less exciting than your date with your fiancé,” Hump said, leaning in with a wicked grin. “Tell us the details.”

Bud frowned. “You said you wouldn’t.”

“I said I wouldn’t when Emilia was around. And right now, it’s just us!”

***

It was a cold morning, but Hump found himself caring less about the weather now that he had proper gear. It was amazing how much such a simple change could make on his life. Years of struggling through the winter on the cold, hard ground, and now it was hardly a concern. He wondered why his master had never done so. He could surely afford it, even if they did have the occasional tough time. But over the last two months, it seemed there was more and more he didn’t know about his master. Questions that only his spellbook might be able to answer.

He was surprised to find that Emilia was not staying in the Upper City. She was a member of the Rike family, known for many skilled Chosen, but also for a number of accomplished martials. It turned out, Emilia was in Sheercliff with her eldest brother—a man in his thirties and of very notable rank within the Martials’ Guild. The estate they were staying in was near the guildhall, in an area that looked just as posh as anything he’d seen in the Upper City, minus the view.

They were greeted at the door by a well-mannered butler, who guided them inside, escorting them to the back of the house. Soon, Hump heard the ringing of steel.

“Those sound like swords,” Bud said.

“Indeed,” the butler said. “Lord Rike hosts training for his men each morning. I was informed you would be joining them.”

“I see,” Bud said.

Hump laughed. It seemed their new party member might be causing trouble already, or putting them on trial. They entered the training hall—a large, indoor space with wooden floors and boxes painted on the ground. More than a dozen men and women were training together in what appeared to be a warm-up game. Emilia was near the front, closest to them, locked in a duel with the man Hump assumed was her brother. They both wielded rapiers, their blades zipping through the air, fast as needles, stabbing and flicking at each other in a blur of motion. At times, Hump caught the shimmer of essence beneath Emilia’s skin, an internal essence technique driving her movement. The flash of light was a sign of her control slipping, but her brother showed no such weakness. His control was perfect. He appeared relaxed as he sparred, smiling as he toyed with Emilia’s blade, leaving her opportunities to strike, and commending it when she took them.

“She’s good,” Dylan said.

Hump nodded. “She might be even faster than Celaine.”

“And her brother’s even faster,” Celaine said, not taking offence.

The two finished their exchange, extending their swords to the side in the form of a salute.

“You did well today.”

Emilia scowled. “No I didn’t. That was pathetic toward the end, I got distracted and started losing control.”

He laughed. “Okay. Not the best, but decent.”

They turned to face them, Emilia smiling as she approached.

“It’s very good to see you all again, and under better circumstances. Thank you very much for your invitation to join your party.”

“Really, there’s no need for that,” Bud said. “You’re doing us just as much a favour.”

“And I’m looking forward to having another girl around,” Celaine added.

Lord Rike cleared his throat, and Emilia glanced awkwardly his way.

“Let me introduce you to my brother, Edmund Rike. He, erm… It was his idea to meet with you here.”

“Indeed it was,” he said. “I wanted to inspect the party that would be working alongside my little sister.” His eyes fell on Bud. “And to meet the fiancé that refused to meet with her.”

“He does not look happy,” Hump whispered. He couldn’t help but notice the other fighters in the room had stopped what they were doing and turned to watch.

“I noticed, thanks,” Bud snapped back. “Lord Rike, I’ve heard impressive things about your career from my father, and it is good to finally put a face to the name.”

“The Blackthornes have been a long-time ally of ours, going back as far as the War of the Firmament,” he said. “I’m afraid to say, little has reached me of you, Robert, but for your childish actions. I must admit, I’m less than pleased that she wishes to party with you now. I fear what might happen if a crisis occurs.”

“My actions before were improper, but do not think to call them childish. I do not regret my decision, for it has brought me closer to Kelisia. I am more certain than ever that I have followed the path she intended for me. As for your doubts, I would die before abandoning my companions, and now that she counts herself in that number, it includes Emilia. Do not think to question my honour.”

“It would not be the first time I have questioned the gods’ choices,” Edmund said. “I do not care for your words. It is actions that speak, and so far, I am less than impressed. Draw your blade, Lord of Blackthorne, and show me. I will not take your life, but you will regret disappointing me again, I assure you.”

“Ed, we discussed this,” Emilia said. “Please don’t do this.”

“This is not for you to decide, Emilia. I will not trust you to adventure with a weak and fearful boy. This is a challenge between men. A promise! A contest of knights, of honour, and of courage. What say you, Robert? Do you dare?”

Hump couldn’t stand by. Bud hadn’t even worn his armour. “Bud is not simply a Lord of Blackthorne, he is under Countess Daston’s protection—”

“Hump,” Bud interrupted, “thank you, but that isn’t necessary.” He glanced at Emilia, then back at Edmund. “I have nothing to prove to you, Lord Edmund, but I am more than happy to accept an honourable challenge. Not as a Lord of Blackthorne, but as a Knight of Kelisia.”

Edmand stepped back into the duelling box, feet graceful even in his walk, like a dancer over the ground. It reminded Hump of Vamir in a way—effortlessly swift. He flourished his rapier and held it at his side, point extended toward the ground, waiting. A murmur moved through the others in the hall, those that had been training before stopping to watch.

Bud took a position opposite him and drew his longsword, the blade gleaming in the light. He did not draw upon Kelisia’s power. Not yet.

“What are the rules?” Bud asked.

“The first to draw blood thrice is crowned the winner,” Edmund said. “Do not hold back, Knight of Kelisia. You will need your blessings to face me.”

“Understood.” Frostfire blazed along his blade, an icy aura rising around him, the air shimmering, blue light flickering beneath his skin.

Emilia came to stand nearby, a nervous look on her face.

“Does he stand a chance?” Hump asked.

She glanced at him, her eyes giving him his answer. “My brother is a Bronze 4 adventurer, and a Rank 4 martial, Wizard Hump. The question is not whether Robert can win. It is whether he remains intact.”

Hump swallowed. “Your brother wouldn’t seriously harm him, right?”

She turned back to the box. “I don’t think so.”

Think. Gods, well that didn’t bode well.

“Finnigree, count the score,” Edmund said.

“Yes, lord,” a man said, coming forward. He raised a hand, chopping it down like a sword. “Begin!”

Bud stepped forward cautiously, longsword gripped in both hands, point extended. Edmund did not. He stepped in fast and hard, smashing his thin blade down upon Bud’s sword, nearly taking his wrist, and forcing him back with a quick jab. Hump drew in a breath.

“None of this pussy-footing,” Edmund said. “Fight me.”

Bud adjusted his grip, and readied himself once more, a calmness on his face. Frostfire shimmered over his clothes as his new blessing took form, coating him in layers of ice, forming plates where his armour would usually be. Hump knew the power of that armour, but he wondered if it had the strength to block a read blow from Edmund.

Then Bud stepped into him, chopping with his sword. Lunging forward into a jab. Feinting left, the cutting at Edmund’s feet, his hand, his torso. The duellist easily dealt with the attacks, and Hump winced as Bud just barely drew his sword up in time to block a blow. But it didn’t end there, Edmund speeding up, a barrage of attacks while Bud was on the backfoot. The knight floundered back, not keeping pace. There was a blur of motion, and Bud cried out. He backed away, limping, blood on Edmund’s blade. It took Hump a moment to spot the blood on Bud’s outer thigh, just above the knee where there was a gap in his Armour of Ice.

“First blood,” the referee called.

“You are slow and wild,” Edmund said, “and you are afraid to get hurt.”

Bud smiled at him without anger. “I know when I am outmatched, but I am not afraid.”

“One must be ready to face opponents beyond them,” Edmund said. “Do you roll over and give up when your life—the lives of your party—are on the line?”

Bud clenched his jaw. “Your casual insults to my honour are the only childish action I see here today. I have fought and bled for my companions many times over. Yet you continue to doubt me?”

“I do!” Edmund said.

Bud charged him, more aggressive than before. His sword a whirling storm of frostfire, the flames dancing from the blade, flicking for Edmund’s face. It was like a wind surrounded his rapier, casting aside the fire, blowing through Bud’s expanding icy aura. Both moved at speeds no ordinary human could achieve—Bud driven by his Heart of Frostfire and Edmund by his own essence abilities. Hump had not seen many duellists in action, but their ability to enhance their body was both stunning and terrifying. Against this speed, Hump wondered if he could do anything.

He was no swordsman, but Hump could see Bud struggling. He staggered on his leg, floundered with his blade in a way Hump had never seen from the knight before. Never had he been so outmatched in simple swordsmanship. The techniques that had always worked were failing.

The next blow caught Bud under the left armpit, tearing a gap in his waistcoat along his side. Bud cried out again, his blade crashing against the ground as he lost strength, and it scraped against the wood as he dragged it back with one hand, creating distance. He raised it in one hand, guard ready, but Edmund didn’t push the advantage.

“Second blood to Lord Rike.”

Bud was gritting his teeth from pain, his breathing was heavy. There was more blood this time, and it stained the floor in bright red streaks.

“Do you wish to forfeit?” Edmund asked.

Bud took control over his breathing and shook his head. His second hand returned to his grip, blood staining the white sleeve of his shirt, tricking down to his fingers. “I will see this through.”

“This is ridiculous,” Dylan said.

“It is his place to decide,” Celaine said. “This is not simply a duel of skill, but of honour.”

Hump gritted his teeth. “Honour is for fools and dead men.”

This time, Bud did not attack first. His Armour of Ice grew thicker, and a helmet formed over his head. It was not as perfect as when he’d had plate armour to form over, but it was close. He looked like a knight, and he looked ready for battle. He held his stance this time, point extended toward Edmund. They circled each other, testing each other’s blades with quick flicks, not stepping into each other’s space.

Then Edmund flicked out with another blow, steels scraping against each other. Bud swept it aside and stabbed, but Edmund parried with a quick motion then sent another numbing blow crashing into his blade. Bud stumbled back on his injured leg, but he caught himself quickly, again waiting. Ready. Though he didn’t have much further he could go before he left the box, Edmund only had to push a little harder.

There was a blur of an exchange, and Bud was sent off balance, sword tip knocked toward the ground. Edmund didn’t wait, stepping forward, lunching with the point at Bud’s stomach, forcing him to take the last step back.

But Bud didn’t. He straightened, leaning into the blow and taking it on his chestplate of ice. There was an explosion of frostfire, mist expanding from the point of impact. When it cleared, a layer of ice bound the rapier in place, and Bud’s sword was stabbing at Edmund’s cheek.

The duellist yanked his sword free and dodged back. Essence shimmered beneath his skin like red lightning. He’d lost control of his power, even if it was just for a second. He dodged, face all but snarling with anger. His blade glimmered, and he swung it at Bud’s torso again.

This time, his armour shattered, his waistcoat and shirt were sliced open, and a long red line was left on his stomach. Bud yelled out, pressing a hand to the wound but not falling.

“Third blood to Lord Rike,” Finnigree said. “The match is concluded.”

Celaine let out a long sigh. “I guess that’s it then.”

“No,” Emilia said. “My brother slipped up.”

And then Hump saw what she meant. Edmund released his power, and a trickle of blood formed on his cheek, slight, but definitely there. His essence had only hidden it briefly. The voices picked up around the room, and Hump saw more than a few shocked faces, none more so than Emilia.

Dylan hurried over to help Bud, but the knight pushed him off, standing on his own. He flourished his blade as they had seen Emilia and Edmund do so before and gave a bow.

“A good match,” Bud said. “I accept my defeat. Congratulations.”