Tournament of Kings

Chapter Twelve: A Matter of the Heart

Relma woke up. The pain in her stomach was dulled, and she could see a fire smoldering over in the corner. A window was open high above in the wall from which light was streaming down, and she was warm. And she didn't have an arrow sticking out of her, so that was good. Unless the white covers hid the fact, her vision gradually focused on Aunt Pan. The Sorceress was knitting by her bedside. She shifted in her bed.

Aunt Pan looked up. "Relma? You're awake, thank goodness."

"Aunt Pan, what happened?" asked Relma.

"Estela shot you in the heart," said Pan. "Don't worry. It was entirely accidental. You lost a lot of blood before I got to you. Fortunately, you should make a full recovery." She drew out a flask. "Drink this."

Relma took it, feeling faint. "What is it?"

"It should restore the blood you lost," said Pan. "I've had to feed it to you myself before now." Relma unstoppered it and drank deeply. Immediately, she felt like she would choke. But she managed to get the bitter drink down. "It tastes awful."

Pan smiled. "Get used to it, dear. If you are going to fight in the next round, you'll need to restore your health."

"So, who won the archery contest?" asked Relma.

"Garrick," said Pan, lips thinning. "After Estela's rather dramatic miss, she was awarded second place. You should have never gone out there."

"If I hadn't, Estela would have been humiliated," said Relma.

"She should never have accepted the challenge in the first place," said Pan.

Relma thought about things. "Was that even legal?"

"Yes. Everyone involved knew the risks involved, and it was a trick shot," said Aunt Pan. "So Benarus allowed it."

Relma finished drinking it down. Then she passed it back to Aunt Pan. Benarus had been allowing a lot of things, hadn't he? He'd seemed so reasonable before now, but Relma was having doubts. Letting Ajax into the tournament was one thing. Looking the other way at Relma's disguise was helpful. But that contest ought to have been halted before it got that far.

Why had Relma agreed to that? "Where is Estela?"

"She's spent much time by your bedside," said Aunt Pan. "But now, she is practicing with her sword for the next round."

"I'm going to see her," said Relma, sitting up.

But Aunt Pan pushed her back down. "You will do no such thing. Wait here, and I'll get her."

She stood, and Relma felt the ache in her chest. "Aunt Pan, why does my chest still hurt."

"Healing wounds with magic requires a deep connection with the spirit," said Aunt Pan. "If your spirit has been injured, the healing magic will leave something behind—a pain, perhaps a scar.

"Most warriors pick them up as they go. Some have made a science of trying to find out what the source of scars is. The idea is to help with healing them.

"The source is always something within the person. Not without."

"Well, why should I hurt now?" asked Relma. "All I did was get shot with an arrow."

"Ask yourself that question, and you may find the answer," said Aunt Pan. "As far as I know, it may have to do with being called out in the first place. I'll get Estela." And she walked to the door.

"Aunt Pan?" asked Relma.

Aunt Pan glanced back. "Yes?"

"Why do you think William Gabriel has that scar on his eye?" asked Relma. "I mean, it's pretty gruesome, isn't it?"