Chapter 77 The Champion's Blade
SERA
Forty-eight hours.
I spent the first six lying in bed while healers checked the baby. Checked me. Told me things I already knew.
No fighting. No stress. No magic. Nothing that could risk the pregnancy.
Which meant I could not show up to trial by combat in two days.
Which meant I would forfeit.
Which meant Daemon won.
Unless.
"There has to be a loophole," I said. Lyra and Arianna stood around my bed. Kael sat beside me looking older. Tired. The life force he gave had aged him maybe five years. Not catastrophic but visible. "Ancient law. Trial by combat. There have to be provisions."
"I have been researching all night." Lyra threw down books. Old books. Crumbling books. "Trial by combat is absolute. Both parties must fight personally. No substitutions. No proxies. No exceptions."
"There are always exceptions."
"Not in this case. The law is clear. You challenged. You fight. Or you forfeit." Lyra's voice was gentle. "We need to prepare for abdication. For exile. For whatever comes after."
"No. We do not give up. Not when we are this close." I sat up despite the healer's protests. "What about champions? Knights fighting on behalf of their lords? That is ancient tradition."
"That is tournament tradition. Not legal combat tradition. Different rules." Arianna flipped through another text. "But there might be something. Give me an hour. Let me check the oldest texts."
She left.
Kael spoke for the first time in hours. "Let me fight him instead."
"What?"
"Ancient law says both parties must fight. But what if I claim it was my challenge? That you spoke for me but the insult was to me? That Daemon questioned my fitness to rule by questioning yours?" His eyes were red. Exhausted. "I can twist the interpretation. Make it about me instead of you."
"That will not work. Everyone heard me issue the challenge."
"Then we make them forget what they heard. We gaslight the entire court. Say you were delirious. Say I was the one who challenged. Say anything that lets me fight instead." His hand found mine. "I can beat him. Even aged. Even weakened. I can still win."
"You gave up years of your life yesterday. You are not fighting anyone."
"I am not watching you die either. So one of us fights. Either me or we find another solution." His jaw clenched. "But we do not forfeit. We do not let him win."
A knock interrupted. One of the younger nobles entered. Lord Blackwater. The one who voted for us because I promised not to forget him.
"Your Majesties. I heard about the trial. About your... condition." He looked nervous. Scared. "I want to offer something. If it helps."
"What?" I asked.
"Me. I want to fight for you. As your champion." He straightened. "I know I am not strong. Not powerful. But I am loyal. And ancient law has one exception to the personal combat rule. If the challenged party is unable to fight due to injury or condition, they may name a champion from their house."
"I am not injured. I am pregnant. That does not qualify."
"Pregnancy is a condition. A medical condition that prevents you from fighting safely." He pulled out a paper. "I found the law. It is buried. Barely used. But it exists. If a healer declares you medically unfit for combat, you can name a champion."
Lyra grabbed the paper. Read it. Her eyes went wide. "He is right. It is here. Subsection forty-seven of the Combat Codes. Medical exemption with champion substitution."
"Does Daemon know about this?"
"Probably not. It has not been used in two hundred years. Most people forgot it exists." Lord Blackwater looked at me. "Let me do this. Let me fight for you. I owe you. You kept your word about not forgetting me. Let me repay that."
"You will die. Daemon is centuries old. Trained. Powerful."
"Maybe. But I will die fighting for something that matters. For a queen who actually cares. That is worth dying for." He knelt. Formal. "I offer myself as your champion. Will you accept?"
I looked at Kael. He nodded once. Giving permission. Trusting my choice.
"I accept. But you do not die. We train you. We prepare you. We give you every advantage." I stood. "Lyra. Get every combat expert we have. Theron. Rowan. Anyone who knows how to fight Daemon's style. We have forty hours to make this man into a weapon."
"Forty hours is not enough—"
"Then we make it enough."
They took Lord Blackwater away. To train. To prepare. To do the impossible.
Kael pulled me back onto the bed. "You should rest."
"I should help train him."
"You should rest. You nearly lost her yesterday. Let others handle this." His hand went to my stomach. "Please. For once. Let others carry the weight."
He was right. I knew he was right. But sitting still while someone fought for me felt wrong. Cowardly.
"I do not know how to do this," I admitted. "How to let go. How to trust others to fight my battles."
"Neither do I. But we learn. Together. Because the alternative is losing everything." He kissed my forehead. "Rest. I will check on Blackwater's training. Make sure he has everything he needs."
He left. I lay there with my hand on my stomach. Feeling the tiny flutter of life. Of Nyx fighting to stay. To be born. To return.
"Your father just aged himself to save you," I whispered. "A stranger is about to fight to the death for us. We have allies willing to die for what we are building. Do not make their sacrifices meaningless. Stay. Hold on. Come back to us."
A flutter. Small. Might have been imagination. But I felt it.
She was listening. She was trying.
That would have to be enough.
Arianna returned six hours later. "I found something. But you will hate it."
"Tell me anyway."
"There is another law. Older. More dangerous." She sat. "Trial by champion has a counter. The challenged party can invoke Trial by Truth instead. Both parties submit to magical examination. A seer reads their intentions. Their crimes. Their fitness to rule. The one found wanting loses."
"That sounds better than combat."
"It is worse. Because magical examination shows everything. Every secret. Every crime. Every dark thought." Arianna looked at me. "Daemon will invoke your family's execution. Your Shadowborn heritage. Everything you have done that could be seen as questionable. He will paint you as unfit."
"And what about him?"
"He is careful. Hides his crimes well. Uses proxies. Leaves no trail." She leaned forward. "But there might be a way. If we can find proof of his involvement in the attack. In Mira's death. In anything concrete. We could use Trial by Truth against him."
"We have forty hours. Where do we find proof?"
"His safe house. The one in the lower city. Where he met Mira." Arianna's smile was sharp. "I can walk through time. Go back. See what happened. Get testimony even from a dead woman."
"That is dangerous. You said walking through recent events is unstable."
"It is. But it is also our best option." She stood. "I go tonight. I walk back to when Mira was in that safe house. I see what Daemon said. What he planned. Then I bring that evidence to trial."
"And if you get stuck? If the timeline rejects you?"
"Then I stay lost in yesterday. But at least you have a fighting chance." She walked to the door. "Besides. Someone needs to make sure that girl gets born. If dying helps accomplish that, so be it."
She left before I could argue.
I found Kael in the training yard. Watching Lord Blackwater spar with Theron. It was brutal. Blackwater was not bad. Just not good enough. Not against someone like Daemon.
"He is going to die," I said quietly.
"Yes. But he is going to die fighting. That counts for something." Kael pulled me close. "Arianna told me her plan. Walking back through time. Getting evidence."
"You think it will work?"
"I think it is our best option beyond watching Blackwater get slaughtered tomorrow." He looked at me. "But I also think we need backup plans. Multiple options. Because nothing ever goes smoothly for us."
"What do you suggest?"
"We bait Daemon. Make him overconfident. Let him think Blackwater is our only plan. Then when he relaxes. When he thinks he has won. We hit him with Trial by Truth. Force him into magical examination. Expose him in front of everyone."
"That requires perfect timing."
"Everything we do requires perfect timing. This is just one more impossible thing." He turned to me. "But if we pull this off. If we expose him. If we win. We need to be ready for what comes after."
"What comes after?"
"War. Real war. Not palace intrusions. Not political games. His allies will not accept losing. They will come at us with everything. Armies. Magic. Assassins." His eyes were black. "We need to be ready to fight a civil war while you are pregnant. While you are vulnerable. While—"
"While I am growing our daughter back. I know." I squeezed his hand. "One crisis at a time. Tomorrow we deal with Daemon. Then we deal with whatever comes after."
"You make it sound simple."
"It is simple. Just not easy."