Faust stared—it was him! The young man with blue eyes from the market.
Another shrill cry echoed in the alleyway as the last mercenary fell.
Faust stood still. The aura of the young man was bright, and more than one sky stone pulsed under his tunic.
The young man ripped the knives out of the corpses without remorse, flicked them clean, and sheathed the knives at his thigh. “There’s more, quick.” The young man grabbed Faust’s wrist, yanking Faust out of the alleyway and into another maze of streets.
Chapter Forty-One
The young man slowed to a stop near the market and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. “Are you all right?”
“I will be fine,” Faust wheezed. He slouched against the wall, holding his side. The fabric clung to his body, signaling he had reopened his wound. He shifted his gaze over to concerned blue eyes and forced a small smile. “Thank you for coming to my aid. May I ask your name? I am Faust.”
“Aris,” the young man said. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Faust took a steady breath and straightened. “I just needed a moment.”
Aris studied Faust. “Do you know why those men were after you?”
Faust shook his head. “No idea.” How odd for Aris not to realize he was the king or demand a reward for his good deed. “I am grateful for your assistance. I would not have made it away unscathed without your help.”
“You looked pretty capable.” Aris beamed.
“Why thank you.” Most would have said he didn’t have it handled and proceed to scold him for being alone. “Is there anything I can do to repay you?”
Aris shifted on his feet, tipping his head at the buildings. “Are you from this city?”
“I am.”
“Could you tell me about the Knight’s Challenge that people keep talking about?”
Faust paused long enough to stop himself from grinning. Aris had the skills to at least be a guard, and if he could get Aris on his side early, then he might have a chance to escape, but he needed information on Nik’s situation in Shar. Aris might be able to tell him.
Faust cleared his throat. “Are you interested in becoming a knight to the king?”
Aris’s face fell into a frown. “That’s the prize?”
“Most would jump at the chance to serve the king.”
“Um, well, it would be a great honor, I guess. I was hoping it would carry a reward instead,” Aris said. “The tournaments in Elyon and Akarvine were like that, anyway.”
Faust smiled. Aris was the mysterious knight. Just his luck! He leaned against the wall, hoping to Alimphis that he wasn’t getting too pale. His wound had stopped bleeding, but his body ached. The medicine didn’t cover extraneous activity. “Serving the king is the highest honor the challenge offers. The other half is decided by the king himself. He will decide if the victor is fit to be his personal knight.”
“Personal knight?” Aris blurted.
“Yes.” Aris was a breath of fresh air, his energy contagious. Aris’s magic even fluttered about with a gentle breeze in his elation. “As a personal knight, the victor will be given a room in the castle, food, clothing, and a salary. Their main duty is to protect the king at all times.”
Aris’s eyes lit up, the wind twisting in his excitement.
Faust observed him with great amusement. He was honestly considering taking the challenge. It was written all over his face.
“I’ll do it,” Aris announced.
“Do you have any other weapons?” Faust didn’t want him to get hurt, and a hunter’s weapons wouldn’t last long. Many talented individuals from all over Alios were here today. He’d seen that much with his brief walk with Relan.
Aris looked down at his throwing knives and bow and arrows. “I can’t just use these?”
“Against several swordsmen?”
Aris’s shoulders slumped. He rummaged through his pocket and took out the small amount of coin to reveal he only had five silver coins and a handful of copper ones.
“I like your spunk.” Faust fished around his satchel for the small bag of coin. “I will help you enter, but the rest will be up to you,” he paused, “if you are serious.”
Aris threw up his hands in protest. “I-I couldn’t ask for such a thing. How would I repay you?”
“Easy. By winning. Besides, you saved my life back there.”
“You don’t even know me,” Aris protested.
“I am willing to take the risk,” Faust said and handed him the small pouch. “There should be enough gold and silver coins to get you decent armor and any weapon. There are more than just swords to consider, and a rumor in the wind says that if you tell them Lord Arcus sent you, they will give you their best stock items for a good price. Some may even have magic stones embedded in their weapons.”
Aris stared at the small drawstring bag. He opened it, and his eyes widened even further. “Are you serious?”
“I am,” Faust said. “Once you get what you need, report to the arena at the end of the market. You will fill out an entry form and be given a number. Then, you just wait your turn.”
“Sounds simple enough,” Aris said. “How much time do I have?”
“A few hours.”
Aris closed the bag. “Thank you.”
Faust raised an eyebrow when Aris continued to stare at him. “Something wrong?”
“Will you be all right by yourself?”
“My escort will arrive soon. We merely got separated in the chase,” Faust lied. He didn’t want to see Relan again, as it would spell some kind of punishment for his actions, but he really didn’t have a choice in the matter.
Aris stared, but he put one hand out. “If you’re certain.”
“I am.” Faust gave Aris’s hand a strong squeeze, their magic mingling in a flirtatious dance, drawing each other closer with a brief pass of interest. He wanted nothing more than to explore this strange spark between them, but he had to let Aris prepare for the matches ahead. “I will see you soon.”
“Watch me from the stands. I won’t lose.” Aris turned and ran into the market through the crowd and behind a merchant cart, out of sight.
“I expect great things from you, Aris,” Faust whispered. He stared at his hand and flexed it. Aris’s magic had engulfed him with a promise, full of certainty and brimming with power. Aris was hiding something, but he longed for another ally, and Aris was his best bet.
“There you are King Faust!”
“Relan.” Faust turned with a weak smile.
The Blessed stood at attention in front of Faust. “What were you thinking taking off like that? You should have gone to the knights.”
“I was a little busy running away. I was not thinking, and before I knew it, I was here.” Faust moved away from the wall to walk past Relan. “We should head back.”
Relan gripped Faust’s arm, halting Faust in place.
“Relan, what are you doing?” Faust growled and yanked his arm back.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I overdid it running.” Faust put a hand out to steady himself against the wall. “It stopped, but I need to see a healer before the challenge begins. Is there still time?” He hoped there was, but he couldn’t be too picky about it. He’d survive if he had more medicine.