Queen of Blades

By Kirk Donaldson

Princess Danaria, heir to the throne of one of the Nine Kingdoms in the Empire, is an accomplished fighter who likes to sneak out to duel in the taverns. She pushes her luck and loses to a Tu’atha, one of the Emperor's elite, and has to serve for one year as his servant. When they return to speak to her father, they learn she has been declared dead. Together, they uncover a plot to undermine not only the kingdom, but the entire Empire.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kirk Donaldson
• Release date: Nov 11, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463308752

Kirk Donaldson

Kirk Donaldson is a technomage and storyteller.

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Queen of Blades

Copyright 2019 Kirk Donaldson

Published by Kirk Donaldson at Smashwords

ISBN 9780463308752

Smashwords Edition License Notes

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Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

About Kirk Donaldson

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Chapter 1

Five days, Kalu. Five days of dodging patrols to find a village that didn’t know me by sight. Another two to find a town with a fight circle, Dana grumbled as she stomped through the mud. Seven rain soaked, mud spattered days walking the unpaved roads, just so that I can have a chance at a decent duel.

Kalu hid his smile behind his keffiyeh as he looked down at his mistress. In all the years I have served at your side, I can count on one hand the times you have been irritated so, my lady. Not since your cousin snatched the pies from the kitchen and tried to point the finger at you-

Dana spun toward him, her green eyes flaring in fury. Do not mention that lay-about to me. I was sitting tender for two days because of that lout. She stopped in front of Kalu, her arms crossed over her chest. She craned her neck to look up at the veritable giant. They stood for a few moments, the big Alaquin smiling openly, patiently.

Dana’s angered mask cracked as she laughed. Damn you, Kalu! You must have magic as black as your skin! I cannot stay mad at you. She turned back around, tucking a stray lock of her red hair back under her cowl.

As Cairn Antiqua got closer, there was no mistaking where the fight circle was. Even for a small village of thirty to forty souls, the circle was loud and rowdy. There is likely a caravan or two camped nearby, mused Kalu.

The pair handed their horses off to a groom and stepped through a gap in the railing that surrounded the seating area. Even open aired, the fire pits spaced around the area warmed the air to bring out a sheen of moisture on Dana’s skin, causing a small shiver. They made their way to an open table, and Dana glanced at the board listing the fighters and their odds. She smiled, seeing a few names that she hoped would give her a challenge. The area was typical for a fight circle tavern. Benches and tables staggered, the ones farther from the inside railing raised to give everyone views of the fighters. Several booths were walled off on one side, curtains across the openings giving the illusion of privacy as the patrons made at least some effort to be quiet. The stale smell of sex, sweat, and ale mingled in a way that no breeze could completely clear out.

One of the barmaids stopped at the table, smiling wearily. Two ales, Kalu said, sliding a full copper across the table. The barmaid picked up the coin, checking the scores on the back of it. She worked her way to the bar, returning shortly with two full clay mugs before sauntering off to another table.

Looks like I might get to have some fun after all, my friend, Dana said as she took a drink. Even the ale is better than I expected. Not the best, but less watered than a burg like this would normally have.

Kalu grimaced, but took another drink. This close to the border, they can likely get better prices from Gaul and bypass the taxes the King collects. Though how you can drink this barley water is still a mystery to me.

Dana laughed. Almost twenty years you’ve served my father and me, and you still have not developed a taste for a good ale?

Your father keeps a supply of proper honeywine for me, Kalu replied, a wistful hint in his voice.

Dana sighed. This will be the last time, I promise. Tomorrow we go home and I will stop these excursions. Then you can stay close to your honeywine.

Kalu smiled, raising his mug, To a final trip.

As Dana reached to tap her mug to his, someone knocked into her. She stumbled forward, the mugs crashing together and shattering. She spun, her breeches and cuirass soaked and dripping. Watch it, lout! she shouted.

The person stopped, grey cloak shading his face as he turned to her. Lout? his deep voice rumbled, amusement all too evident. High speech for such a low place. He lowered his hood, rain darkened hair plastered to his head. Go home to your manor house, 'milady', before your servants start thinking they can run off with the silver.

Dana bristled, pulling off her cowl, red ringlets wildly framing her pale skin. She made a show of inspecting the stranger’s face. You would be pretty enough with a shave and bath. How about I bond you and take you home? I think I have a maid’s uniform that would fit you.

The crowd around them snickered at the exchange. The stranger’s lip twitched as he took in the slight form in front of him. Is that a challenge, girl? Do you really want to draw blades in the ring over spilled ale? I’ll pay for another round if that would soothe the lady’s honor. A glint in his eyes gave Dana a pause.

She shook off the feeling and stood straight. The copper for the ale won’t clean my clothes. Two full silver, and I might let you be.

You can buy a full change of clothes here for that.

Well, I will need something to wear while my clothes are being washed. I can hardly wander naked like a bondsman, now can I?

A darkness flitted behind the stranger’s eyes, sending a shiver down Dana’s spine. Slowly, his lips pulled up into a smile. Blades it is, then. What is the wager, 'milady'?

Dana smiled back. I have told you already, ‘lout’. You bound to my service for a year. She heard Kalu cough quietly behind her and looked over her shoulder at him. The man was shaking his head, his eyes wide in his dark face. Dana rolled her eyes and turned back to the stranger.

A year’s bond for a spilled ale? Go home, girl. He laughed. Put up a year of your service, and I’ll consider it. He looked pointedly at Dana, suddenly very serious. You. Not your big friend behind you. Not one of your maids. You, as my bondsmen, doing what I say without question for a year. He let his gaze rake down her body, a dark smile raising his lips. Anything I say.

Dana stilled, her instincts screaming at her to walk away. Her pride, however, would not be silenced. She had fought and won 116 fights over the last four years. She had never lost. Some of her opponents had been bigger than the stranger, some rougher looking. She had faced professional fighters, caravan guards, hired swords, even city guard. The stakes had never been this high, but she could beat him, right?

Dana’s voice only cracked a little as she responded. A wager, then.

Kalu’s voice, however, was very clear as he thundered, No!

The stranger smiled, reaching up to unclasp his cloak, folding it carefully over his arm and handing it to a barmaid. Wagers made and accepted, then. First to three cuts? he asked as he unbuckled his leather cuirass, pulling it off and handing it off like his cloak.

Dana began unlacing her cuirass, First to three, she agreed.

Leave your vest on, girl. I don’t want to hear excuses about your tits throwing off your balance, the stranger chuckled.

She bristled again. My bindings will keep my tits out of the way perfectly well. I don’t want to hear your excuses about my being armored as I drag you back to my manor house, she quipped.

The crowd laughed at the exchange as the circle was cleared. The bookmakers started calling out bets and odds, and Dana was pleased that she was ahead. She unbuckled her belt, handing it to Kalu before drawing her blades. She hefted her matched swords. The nerves she always felt before a duel melted away as she felt their weight. The blades were a little longer than her forearms, slightly curved. They had been custom made for her by her father’s master smith. She had been trained by the best tutors her father could find; refined by her battle-hardened guard and friend, Kalu; tempered by countless duels. In the ring, blades in hand, there was no room for doubt. She smiled at Kalu’s worried face and turned toward the man that would be her new maid.

The stranger stood in shirt and breeches, barefoot in the straw and sand of the fight circle. In his hand, a single blade rested easily. It was longer than her blades, but had the same curve. While her hilts had baskets covering her knuckles, his had only a disk as the guard.

He smiled, raising his sword in salute. She raised her right hand in answer. The ring marshal clapped, and the duel began.

Dana rushed in to close the gap quickly, working to get inside of his guard, slashing precisely. She let her movements fall into the training pattern that had been drilled into her. He stepped back, startled by her initial onslaught. He quickly fell in time with her pattern, his blade’s motion just as precise. Dana smiled as he matched her, then shifted to his left suddenly and slashed up. She felt satisfaction seeing the look on his face. His shirt parted and a small line of blood appeared along his ribs.

First score to the lady, the marshal bellowed. Half of the crowd cheered, the other half grumbled, and the first round of bets were paid. Dana walked back to Kalu, smiling as she took a breath to settle herself again.

Do not get ahead of yourself, my lady. That is only the opening moves. Despite his words, a smile threatened to lift his lips. She took a sip of the water he held out for her, then turned back to the ring to await the next round.

Quickly, the betting was done and the marshal started the next round. Again, Dana rushed in, beginning her pattern. This time, however, the stranger did not follow her, but countered, parried, riposted, and drove her back. She matched him, her blood singing as their blades flashed through the air. She saw her opening. She moved to his right, feigning a thrust before spinning to his left for a slash. She gasped as she felt the back of her shirt open, the cold steel of his blade tracing her shoulder in an upward line. She realized then that he had baited her.

Score for the swordsman, the marshal bellowed. One to one! Again the crowd responded, money changed hands, new bets were made. The barmaids were passing out mugs as fast as they could be filled.

Dana stalked back to Kalu, turning her back to him sulkily so he could examine the cut.

It is only a scratch, he pronounced, but you will need a new shirt. He chuckled softly at her dark look as she stripped off the remains of her shirt and threw it at him. The crowd howled their approval as she returned to the field with only her bindings on top. Any embarrassment about her state of dress was drowned out by her disgust at being led into the trap. She closed her eyes and took another settling breath.

When she opened her eyes, Dana thought she caught a look of approval on the stranger’s face for a moment, gone as quickly as it had appeared.

The third round began. Steel sounded against steel, both fighters flowing through a dance of death as if it had been rehearsed. One would change the tempo, forcing the other to adapt before changing it again. Back and forth they stepped, until Dana could not get her blade down in time to catch his, and she felt the left leg of her breeches part, falling away as the new line of blood began to well.

Score for the swordsman, the marshal cried. Two to one for the swordsman!

Dana walked back to her corner, pulling off her boots and the remains of her breeches. Kalu handed her shirt over and looked at her leg while she wiped herself down. She played back the exchange in her head as she fashioned a loincloth from her ruined clothes. What did I miss? she asked herself. Where were the signs of his intent? For all her examinations, all she could come up with was that he had been faster than her. She looked down at herself, satisfied that she was at least covered, and turned back to the ring.

The betting had quieted, the stranger and marshal waited for her. As she approached, the stranger whispered, Last chance, girl. If we call this a draw, I will pay you one silver, and we go about our way.

Dana looked up at him and shook her head. No. I need to know if I am beaten, or if I missed a tell. Wager or not, I have to finish.

The stranger smiled and saluted. The round began.

Again, they danced to music only they could hear. Back and forth, they spun, rolled, struck, blocked, dodged, and slashed. Time slowed for them, and the world fell away. Dana finished a turn and stood still in shock, watching as the stranger’s shirt opened and fell away across the back of his shoulders, a thin red line beginning to drip down his back.

She had done it. She had made her second hit. Dana grinned. She would be taking on a new bondsman.

Score for the lady, the marshal called out. Two to two. Next score wins the match! The crowd shouted in excitement at such a display.

Dana’s blood suddenly ran cold. Woodenly, she walked over to Kalu. She looked