Reckoning (The Empyrean Chronicle) Read Online Free PDF Page B

“And, there isn’t a person at the fair that wouldn’t like to see that
whelp eat his words.”
    “Shut it you big oaf!” Asa cried. She turned to Elias and
took his hand. “Don’t fight him! The Macallisters never play fair. That fancy
sword with its practice sheaf will end up accidently running you through, and
quite a convenience it would be for the Macallisters considering your father
can’t run the distillery without you.”
    “Cormik may be a horse’s ass, but he’s no killer,” Elias
replied. “Not that it matters now. He’s announced that I challenged him and
I’ll look a coward if I don’t show. I’m backed into a corner, and my name is on
the line. Losing would be better than not fighting him at this point.”
    “With that blade, doubtlessly perfectly balanced and easier
a hand longer than a practice foil, he will have the advantage over you,”
Danica said. “Elias, you will have to outthink him.” Asa glared at her, eyes
sharp as daggers. “What? It’s true.”
    “This is your fault Danica,” Asa said, her voice brittle
with emotion. “You just can’t keep your mouth shut, can you?”
    By now Elias’s temper had cooled. He figured since he
couldn’t change the situation there was little sense in belaboring it further. “Listen,
you two, calm down. It can’t be helped now so there’s no point in placing
blame. Let’s not give the Macallisters the satisfaction of seeing us ruffled.”
    Asa nodded, but her posture remained stiff. Lar clapped
Elias on the shoulder and put an arm around Danica, who favored him with a
raised eyebrow, but her jade eyes danced with mirth again.
    Elias closed his eyes and cleared his mind as his father had
taught him, an exercise he called entering the void. He relaxed tense muscles
and willed his heart to slow. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t nervous, but
he didn’t want anyone else to know it. Elias stood to his full height, held his
head high, and tried to affect the whimsical half smile that Danica always
wore, as if she laughed at some private joke, and strode toward the fencing
circle.

Chapter 3
    The Woman in the Red Dress
    “The match,” said Mayor Bromstead, “consists of up to
five rounds.”
    Elias swallowed the lump in his throat, which felt at once like
it was closing in. A bead of sweat wound down his back, tracking along his
spine. He eased his grip on his fencing foil and tried to redirect his
attention to the Mayor. Elias let slip a nervous laugh despite himself. He was
engaged to Ulric Bromstead’s daughter, but he still thought of him as The
Mayor .
    Bromstead arched an eyebrow at Elias. “Points are earned
from a strike on any part of the body, or by driving the other fencer out of
the circle, at which point the round ends. The first to three points wins. No
late blows, kicks, punches, or conduct unbecoming a gentlemen will be
tolerated. Is this clear?” Ulric Bromstead fastened his slate-gray eyes on each
of them in turn, waiting for each man to indicate his assent with a nod. “Very
well then.”
    Ulric walked out of the center of the circular dais. As he
passed Elias he smiled, but the gesture did not touch his eyes, which were
troubled and hooded by drawn brows. The mayor raised his arm above his head
and, after a dramatic pause, dropped it in a single, fluid motion. “Begin!”
    For a pregnant moment the duelists stood still on opposite
sides of the dais, each taking the measure of the other. Elias kept his face an
emotionless blank mask. His stance remained loose, and he gripped his foil lightly.
Cormik rested the point of his blade on the granite dais and wore a toothy
smile.
    The sight of the long and wide-bladed rapier, though tightly
contained within the leather sheaf, gave Elias pause. Cormik’s weapon boasted a
gleaming swept-hilt, ornate as well as functional, and an oblate pommel that suggested
perfect balance. Elias’s own, standard foil seemed paltry in comparison.
    Elias knew that Cormik sought to goad