Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell Book One

Fedeles bounced in his seat and appeared to be singing something. Kiram couldn't hear him over the pressing roar of hundreds of surrounding conversations. Elezar was recounting his own worst failure in a race to Nestor, but Kiram was only half listening. Every now and then a trumpet blast announced more riders and cheers went up through the crowd.

A giddy feeling of joy and relief washed through Kiram. It had been a mad ride but he had survived it. Briefly, he thought that he would do it all again just for this rush of happiness at the end. The notion was crazy, but it filled him with a strange kind of joy. Kiram thought he might be grinning as wildly as Fedeles right now.

Up in the stands, Fedeles threw a wad of black and white ribbons down at Javier and then suddenly leapt up from his seat and pointed directly at Kiram.

Kiram returned his enthusiastic wave. He received a cold stare from Fedeles' grandmother, but he hardly cared. Javier pulled the black and white ribbons from his dusty hair, then he turned and started towards Kiram. As Javier drew closer Kiram caught sight of the bloody, matted black hair dried to the right side of his face.

Suddenly Kiram's pleasure turned cold. "Are you all right?"

Javier only smiled at him.

"He took first place!" Elezar crowed. "Flat out beat Hierro Fueres this year."

"What happened to his head?" Kiram asked. Javier seemed oddly unaware of the question.

"He got clipped. His right ear is full of blood." Elezar pointed to Javier's head.

Javier nodded. "I can't hear out of my right ear. It's full of blood."

"Shouldn't he see a physician?"

"He'll be fine," Elezar responded. "It's just a graze. Bled like hell though. He looked completely bitched when I first came in. Bastard had the gall to tell me I looked bad."

Javier watched Elezar's face intently as he spoke and then nodded.

"I said you looked like shit," Javier said to Elezar and then he turned his attention back to Kiram. "I didn't hear them announce you."

"You can't hear anything, can you?"

"No, I'm fine," Javier responded.

"He can't read lips for crap either." Elezar stepped closer to Javier. "Do something about your bloody ear."

"I think it's nice and quiet like this." Javier shrugged.

Kiram saw the faintest spark flicker over Javier's right ear. It guttered out almost instantly. Another spark trembled to life only briefly and then it too went out.

Kiram frowned. It wasn't like Javier to put up with an injury, not even to annoy Elezar.

"Did Holy Father Habalan administer muerate poison to Javier?" Kiram asked Elezar.

"Of course. It's the only way to make sure he doesn't cheat during the tournament. He still took first-" The rest of Elezar's words were lost in the loud blast of a trumpet. More riders were announced. The crowds in the stands cheered as the dirty students made their way to the center of the arena. The last students seemed to be arriving nearly all at once. Few of them showed any injuries, though one young man in a Yllar uniform had clearly been bombarded with flowers. Rose petals and straw flowers were still falling out of his hair and clothes as he walked across the arena.

"Well, I did better than Ladislo," Nestor said. "He was two hundred and thirty. What about you, Elezar?"

"Thirty-three," Elezar replied proudly. "I came in right ahead of Morisio. Genimo took fortieth. He's helping Scholar Donamillo treat a first year who took a nasty fall."

"What about Atreau?" Nestor asked. "I thought he'd be here by now." Kiram hadn't thought to look for anyone but Javier but now he noticed that of all the Hellions only Atreau was unaccounted for.

"Poor bastard got completely fucked by some crazy girl who threw herself at him on the street." Elezar shook his head.

"Is he hurt?" Nestor looked suddenly worried.

"No, he kept his seat, but he was pretty much out of the race once he had some love-struck trollop in the saddle with him. He said something to Morisio about riding her hard and putting her away wet." Elezar flashed another of his crude grins.

Kiram had no idea what Elezar was referring to. He glanced askance at Javier but then realized that Javier hadn't heard any of the conversation.

"Atreau ought to show up soon," Elezar said. "Ahh, look! What did I just say? There he is."

Elezar pointed just as the trumpet sounded and Atreau was announced along with the last two other riders. Wild, feminine screams tore through the pavilion as Atreau walked past the stands. Gaudily-dressed women in the lowest row of the stands hurled flowers at him as well as kerchiefs. Kiram even thought that one woman had thrown out a pair of underpants.

"The whores do love him." Elezar shook his head.

"It's not just whores," Nestor said. "Lots of ladies write him letters."

"I imagine that the number would drop significantly if they knew they would have to spend their wedding night queuing up in line for a turn at him," Javier commented.

"So, you can hear again," Elezar said.

"Sadly, yes. It's louder than it was last year." Javier surveyed the hundreds of people in the stands, then turned to Kiram. "I'll take you around the fair after we're done here. The fighting doesn't usually last past third bell. After that, actors take the arena. Ybu can see those Irabiim I was telling you about."

"All right, but I have to find the Laughing Dog-"

"Wait! What's this?" Elezar broke in on them, scowling. "We should celebrate your win at the Goldenrod."

Javier looked genuinely annoyed. "Not tonight. Master Ignacio won't allow any indulgences until after the tournament. And in any case, Kiram and Nestor can't-" The rest of Javier's reply was drowned out by the resounding noise of several trumpets blasting out a piercing melody.

"All bow before His Royal Highness Prince Sevanyo!" A man called from the pavilion entry.

A sudden, perfect silence fell over the entire gathering. An instant later the quiet rustle of cloth became a reverberation through the pavilion as hundreds of people bowed down. It struck Kiram as strange to hear such a slight noise magnified so intensely by the sheer number of people making the same motion at once.

Immediately, Javier caught his hand and pulled him down to kneel beside him. The Cadeleonians were all so much more formal than his own people. There was no nobility among the Haldiim and not even the oldest grandmother would demand that others kneel in the dirt before her.

Javier kept his face lowered, not even glancing at Kiram. But he didn't release Kiram's hand either. His skin felt icy-an effect of muerate poison. Even so it seemed singular to Javier and made Kiram very aware of how long Javier's fingers lingered, pressing against his own, and also of the precise moment when Javier released him.

It was exactly as six young men dressed in violet liveries emblazoned with the white Sagrada stallion marched into the pavilion. The gold buckles on their highly polished boots jingled like bells. Kiram stole a glance up at them. They wore dueling swords, but also carried golden bowls full of flowers, from which they scattered fistfuls of rose petals across the ground. Behind them came six mounted guards, wearing light armor and riding black chargers.

The trumpets raised a resounding note as the prince rode into the pavilion on a white stallion. Six more pages followed him on foot, carrying large gold globes, and behind them came another six mounted guards.

Kiram studied the prince. He inspired so much awe and wielded so much power. If he wished he could elevate or destroy any man, woman, or child in this pavilion. He could do it on a whim.

Kiram knew that many of his fellow students were nobles as well. In their own lands they could decide the fates of entire populaces with a few words, but at the academy they attended classes and took tests just like everyone else. They obeyed the rules of common scholars and accepted punishments for their misdeeds.