The Steel Queen - Prologue

Chapter 2 - Katherine

Kath crept up the tower stairs, careful not to make a sound. She’d left the great hall while the others still lingered over supper, certain she would not be missed. After retrieving a cloak, she used the castle’s secret ways to slip past a handful of guards. Quiet as a ghost, she made her way up the tower, her doe-skin boots nothing but a whisper on the mage-stone stairs. In all of Castlegard only the Octagon Tower was forbidden to her, but Kath knew the way. She’d dared it once before, drawn by the challenge as much as a burning curiosity, but never during a trial and never when it mattered so much.

Shadows darkened the staircase, an orange sun setting beyond the arrow-slit windows. Kath trailed a hand along the inner wall, counting the turns of the spiral. A cold wind gusted from above, warning her that she neared the top. Kath slunk low, peering through the open doorway, relieved to find the battlement empty. To be safe, she circled at a crouch till she reached the far side. Of the many towers of Castlegard, the Octagon was unique. Crowned by crenellated battlements, the eight-sided tower was hollow, protecting an octagonal courtyard of mage-stone open to the night sky above. Hiding behind a merlon, she peered into the tower’s hollow heart.

Torchlight blazed below, awaiting the start of the trials. Her breath caught, knowing she spied on hallowed ground. An iron throne sat against the south wall while an altar to Valin dominated the north. Between the king and the warrior god, a great maroon octagon stretched across the center, a battlefield of blood-red marble inset in the floor. Kath stared at the blood-stained marble, wondering how many dreams had died there, wondering if her own would survive the night.

Footsteps echoed from below. Kath ducked behind the merlon. She’d come for the gods-eye view but she dared not be found. Her heart hammering, she waited till curiosity got the better of her. Daring a glance over the merlon, she was surprised to find the knight marshal below. Second only to the king, the one-eyed marshal placed an array of weapons upon the altar to Valin. So these were the weapons of the trial. Keen-edged, they gleamed in the torchlight as if blessed by the god. Kath gave them a hungry stare, knowing which one she’d choose. It was always the sword for her, the weapon of heroes, the very symbol of the warrior god, but for her dreams to come true, Blaine would need to win his trial. Gripping her good luck charm, she sent a silent prayer to Valin.

Knowing the trial was still hours away, Kath set her back to the merlon, sitting cross-legged on the cold stone floor. Huddled beneath her wool cloak, she tried to keep warm, watching as the sunset faded to dusk and the first stars appeared in the night sky. Dragon, Knight and Swan, she studied the star patterns, counting three shooting stars before the Great Ladle rose in the east.

Horns echoed from below. Startled, Kath peered over the edge, watching as the king and his officers entered the hollow tower. Bowing to Valin’s altar, the king took a seat upon the iron throne, setting his great blue sword across his knees. From this angle, Kath could not see her father’s expression but she could well imagine his stern gaze set in a sun-weathered face. Honor and discipline meant everything to the king and he would expect to see both in the trials. The horns blared again and the champions entered the tower. Eight knights in elaborate armor claimed their stations at the corners of the marble octagon. Kath studied the knights, guessing their names by their size and their weapons. One towered over the others, Trask, a vile-tempered knight with the strength of an ogre and the brutal fighting style of a berserker. Kath shuddered, making the hand sign against evil. Rumors said the champions were chosen by lots, but judging by the eight waiting below, Blaine’s luck had turned dark. His trial would be difficult if not deadly.

The king gestured and the marshal climbed the steps to settle a maroon cloak across the altar. A commotion at the doorway caught Kath’s stare. Blaine appeared at the entrance. Dressed in simple armor, devoid of any weapons, he stood straight and tall, waiting to be summoned, but this time there would be no trumpet blare, no fanfare, just a lowly knight-candidate called to the octagon to prove his worth. She studied his face, finding a strange mixture of anxiety and elation. Kath could well relate, for the same feelings raged within her. Driven by dreams, she’d come to witness the trial, knowing the outcome would determine two destinies not one.