Brian Rathbone: Regent

With a lump in his throat, Sinjin turned to Durin, who was now on his side, one leg trapped beneath his body at an awkward angle. It looked to Sinjin as if he were already dead. Tears filled his eyes, but he forced them back. When he pulled Durin from the ground and wrestled his limp body over one shoulder, the boy moaned and Sinjin risked a moment of hope-it was a brief moment. The assassin, too, moaned, and Sinjin moved off as fast as he could while carrying Durin. Once again his shoulders itched, waiting for the next deadly bolt to strike. He nearly dropped Durin at the sound of a snapping branch, but it was Uncle Chase and five of his best men who approached.

Chase rushed forward when he saw the boys and charged past them, looking for their assailants, his soldier's body rippling with intent. Sinjin turned to watch his uncle go, terrified by Chase's deadly charge but also by the thought of losing him. The valley behind was now empty, though, and nothing of the two assassins remained. It was as if they had been taken by the wind. Only the still form of Durin and the deadly bolt protruding from his shoulder gave evidence that they had ever existed.

"What happened?" Chase asked. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. We need to get you back to Dragonhold. Bradley, Simms, you carry Durin. Jorge and Morif, grab Sinjin." Words of protest were cut short as Sinjin suddenly found himself slung over the shoulders of two men who immediately began to run. The desire to run on his own two legs was nearly overwhelming, despite knowing his energy was already spent.

"You should all be ashamed of yourselves," Millie said as she walked among the beds in the now overfull infirmary. The tears that gathered in her eyes seemed to anger her further. "When you are all well enough to hear me, you can be certain I'll tell you what I really think. I most certainly will. Selfish and thoughtless, not to mention plain stupid. Did I mention stupid? No respect for a fragile, old heart such as mine."

Her footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls.

Sinjin waited until Millie thundered from the room before raising his head. He alone was unscathed after the events of the previous day. Fault was his alone to bear, yet those he loved had paid the price for his impetuous and selfish decisions. Millie was right; he truly was detestable. Tears threatened to fall from his eyes as well, and his chin quivered. Durin groaned, causing Sinjin to leap; it was the first Durin had stirred since Brother Vaughn had administered a series of poultices. Each one had seemed to pull some of the poison from the boy's body, but no one knew if it would be enough.

"Durin," Sinjin whispered. "Can you hear me? Wake up. Don't make me beat you into consciousness."

Durin's eyes did not open, but one side of his mouth twitched and turned upward. It lasted only a moment; then he was gone again. Sinjin's parents were faring no better, and the room began to close in on him, forcing him to accept the guilt and responsibility. Part of him wanted to run until he could run no more, to escape from the horror of having killed his parents and his best friend. What kind of monster would do such a thing? He'd risked everything on a silly race. He'd won the race and lost everything else.

Returning in a rustle of skirts, Millie entered the room looking pale, and she leaned on the rough-hewn walls. "Master Edling is within Dragonhold," she gasped between breaths.

Sinjin's head snapped up. Master Edling had never entered Dragonhold, and not since the erection of the wall bearing his name had he come north of it. It wasn't until recently that anyone could cross the wall. As a result of the Pinook Treaty, a gate had been built and limited trade established. Looking at the still forms of his parents, a chill clutched his bowels. This was no time to show weakness. Sinjin was not weak minded or completely unprepared. "Tell him my parents are involved in matters that cannot wait and will occupy them until after nightfall."

"Edling and his gaggle of fools are not here to see your parents," Millie said with a look that Sinjin knew all too well. "They're here looking for another fool, one that seems to have won a race, I believe."

Standing as rigid as stone, Sinjin allowed Millie to dab powder around his eyes.

"We can't have them thinking you've been crying," she said. "Now look at me. Your eyes are as red as roses. But I can't fix that."

That did little to bolster Sinjin's failing confidence as he walked to Dragonhold's main entrance. What had once been a jagged gash in the stone wall had been carved into a broad entranceway. The inner gates, which had been constructed using whole tree trunks, stood open, showing the cloudless sky beyond. Within stood Master Edling and his party, which was dwarfed by the massive scale of the ancient hall. Delicately curved pillars the size of greatoaks extended high into the darkness, leaving the ceiling of the chamber hidden from view. Some said the place was named Dragonhold because dragons could fly within the hold; others said an ancient dragon lived in the darkest depths of the mountain fortress. Sinjin knew he could use the majesty of his home to his advantage.

"Master Edling," he said with a bow that was little more than a nod. He could almost feel Millie's pride as he had shown just enough respect to offset the insult. Again, he could sense Millie's approval as he let the silence hang between them. Someone less trained might have launched into apologies or explanations or excuses, but Sinjin knew better; Millie and Uncle Chase had seen to that.

"Lord Volker," Master Edling said after an uncomfortable silence. "I had hoped your parents would accompany you. I was so looking forward to congratulating them on raising such a fine and strong young man-not to mention fast. Hester was none too pleased that you broke his record, I can assure you that! I don't believe I'd buy any butter or cheese from Hester if I were you," Edling finished with a condescending smile and a too-deep bow.

Sinjin, again, said nothing. Those behind Master Edling shuffled their feet and fidgeted, perhaps uncomfortable on Edling's behalf.

Master Edling coughed. "Yes. . as I was saying. . you left without claiming your prize. The Spring Challenges and Summer Games are based on tradition, and some traditions simply must not be broken, for the sake of continuity. It is for that reason that we have come to you. I present you this wreath as a sign of your victory. Let your countrymen know that your right to the title Champion has been duly earned and cannot be taken away."

Sinjin accepted the wreath, knowing Edling had other, less honorable reasons for coming to Dragonhold, such as assessing his enemies' hold in person.

Alissa stepped forward and Sinjin was utterly unprepared for her kiss. He had expected a quick peck, but she grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him deeply. Sinjin took a step back, and she moved with him, as if she'd forgotten anyone else was present. When finally she allowed Sinjin to pull free, there was a look in her eyes that made Sinjin feel like a doe before a mountain cat. His skin flushed and his face reddened nearly as deeply as Alissa's father's as the man ushered her to the back of Edling's party.

Sinjin flushed even further when he looked into the gathered crowd to see Kendra Ironfist looking like a storm cloud-her face flushed, her eyes afire. Despite it all, Sinjin had to admit that she was beautiful, though he'd never admit it to her. Too many times she'd caused him trouble. Still, her long brown hair softened the scowl on her face, and there was a certain twinkle in her glare. Sinjin's current circumstances once again demanded his attention as another strained silence hung over the hall.