And how had Regar done that? Brandt knew the man was strong, but such power was beyond human. Moving that much air that quickly was beyond the cost a mortal could bear. Regar barely looked perturbed.
That question would wait. For now, they needed safety. He addressed Regar. “We should separate into groups of two or three and leave the path. It will make us harder to ambush.”
Regar shook his head. “The threat has passed. We will continue.”
“It’s too risky.”
Regar smiled, as though addressing a child. “To the contrary, now that we have shown them our strength, it is the safest decision we can make.”
Trust and reason warred within Brandt.
Ultimately, his obedience won out. The emperor had given this task to Regar for a reason. Any answers he desired were ahead of them. “Very well.”
“Keep a sharp eye, Brandt. I do not believe they will attack again, but caution is well warranted.”
Brandt nodded and retook his place at the head of the column.
They continued up the path, but two bends later, they came upon a clearing filled with Falari.
Brandt almost drew his sword, but held off. The Falari stood in two lines. Archers had arrows nocked but their bowstrings were loose. Behind them stood another line of warriors carrying all manner of bladed implements. Behind them all stood a single man wearing robes Brandt recognized as belonging to a warleader.
The other guards pulled up in a line. Then Regar rode around the bend and saw the formation blocking their path. He nodded to himself, as though he’d expected nothing different. He dismounted and pushed his way through his line of guards.
Regar paused next to Brandt, the pair of them slightly ahead of the rest of the line.
The Falari ranks broke for their warleader to step through. “You are recognized, prince. Many years have passed since you last visited our lands.”
The warrior’s imperial was difficult for Brandt to understand. But Regar had no such problems. He offered a bow to the warleader. “We seek audience with the council.”
The line of Falari warriors chuckled among themselves. The warleader’s grin was wide. “You know what you ask?”
“I do.”
“You are not worthy.”
“In my captivity I defeated Lozen at the board. I defeated Makun in the ring. And I defeated Isha with the blade. I am worthy enough.”
Brandt didn’t understand what Regar spoke of, but the gathered Falari seemed suitably impressed. Even the warleader’s grin had vanished. Now he studied Regar. A long moment passed. “Pass one trial and be welcomed. Pass three and I shall escort you to the council to make your plea. But even then, I will not promise a return journey.”
“It is understood,” Regar said, a hint of solemnity in his voice.
“The ring, then.”
Regar nodded and turned to Brandt. “It’s a grappling match.”
Brandt dismounted. “I’ll make short work of any opponent, sir.”
Regar laughed. “I was the one who asked to speak to the council. It is I who will be tested.”
Brandt made to protest, but Regar held up a hand. “This is the way of it. Order the guards to form half a ring. The Falari will complete the other half. And no matter what happens, no one must interfere.”
With that, Regar stepped forward. Apparently the warleader was not under a personal obligation to meet Regar’s challenge, as he selected a larger man as Regar’s challenger. Brandt tore his eyes away from the scene and ordered the guards to form their circle.
It took some time, but eventually the ring was set. While the perimeter formed, Regar moved through a complex warm-up, loosening the muscles from long days of riding.
Brandt worried. In their own sparring, Regar had been less skilled than Brandt. He was still superior to most fighters, but the challenge he faced wasn’t small. Literally and figuratively.
He saw no other option but to play along. Not only was their small expedition outnumbered, but they had the care of the prince. The only successful fight was one they won and kept the prince alive through.
No small feat when a group of archers waited for the slightest provocation to leash a deadly volley of arrows.
The match began without preamble. The two fighters circled one another, the distance between them slowly closing.
The Falari warrior seized the initiative, stepping in and attempting to throw Regar. Regar slipped the man’s grip. He tried to throw the warrior, but the Falari seemed rooted to the stone underfoot.
Brandt observed with a critical eye. From the initial exchange Regar appeared to be the superior grappler. But his opponent’s size and strength would prove a challenge.
The next exchange went poorly for Regar. The prince attempted to take the offensive, but the Falari was quick enough to muscle through a counter. He seized Regar before the prince could escape. The hold wasn’t secure, but it lasted long enough for the Falari to throw Regar bodily to the ground.
The prince took the impact and rose to his feet, a smile playing across his lips.
Ana’s hand on Brandt’s arm stopped him. He looked down and saw he’d taken a step into the ring. She pulled him back.
The next moments became Brandt’s personal nightmare. He was forced to watch, unable to take any action that would influence the outcome.
It felt like he was trapped in the dreamscape again.
He clenched his fist and forced himself to remain still.
When the Falari warrior made a mistake, Regar didn’t let him recover. The fight had gone to the ground, and the Falari relied on strength instead of positioning to hold Regar down.
Like an eel, Regar slid around, managing to wrap his legs around the Falari’s arm. With both hands on the Falari’s captured wrist he pulled, extending the elbow further than it was meant to travel.
The Falari bellowed something
