Page 110 of Poisoned Empire

Belisariussteppedoutontothe hard packed sand of the training ground, ceremonial sword in hand, its curved blade reflecting the bright summer sun. He wore nothing more than a pair of trousers tucked into soft-soled leather boots. No defensive clothing or armour was permitted. Combatants were to enter the ring with a blade and their bodies, nothing more. He supposed he should be grateful that he wouldn’t be forced to fight his brother’s flames. Even if he’d been born one, a fire mage could be scorched if his opponent burned hotter, and Mercurius had devoured many lives with the ritual to burn hottest.

The magistri, their heirs, palace guards and members of the imperial bureaucracies and armies stood at a distance under the shade of stone colonnades that bordered the grounds on two sides. Marduk was nowhere to be seen. It was a relief.

Mercurius marched onto the grounds, brimming with confidence. He had a brawler’s build, just as their father had, while Belisarius favoured the leaner build of their mother. He’d sparred with his father in his younger days, but had never once prevailed.

“I’ve been observing my subjects these past few years,” Mercurius told him with a smile.

They kept to the proper forms. Belisarius met Mercurius in the centre of the ring with a few arms lengths between them. They bowed deeply.

“Your taste in right-hand men leaves something to be desired, but your taste in women…” Mercurius goaded.

When they straightened, they held their blades in both hands, rotating them to demonstrate to each other that they carried identical swords. He wished he could have had one of Iliana’s enchantments slipped into his steel. If he died and she escaped, Lethe wouldn’t know its luck.

Belisarius refused to reply to the obvious taunt. Still facing, they took three steps back.

“When you’re dead, I’ll make a proper concubine out of the poison mage.”

Formalities done, they circled slowly, hoping the other would make a misstep.

“And I’ll mount that feral’s horns-”

Mercurius rushed in first. He was lightning on his feet, almost as fast as Marduk. Belisarius was pushed back as he tried to protect the distance between them.

“-above my mantel!” Mercurius growled, closing the distance and cutting across Belisarius’ temple as he ducked.

Blood poured into Belisarius’ eye. The prince used their closeness to grab onto his vile brother’s sword hand. Mercurius grinned and snatched Belisarius’ own wrist before he could draw his blade across his brother’s broader chest. They grappled, wrestling for freedom. Belisarius’ heels dug trenches into the hard-packed ground as he was slowly overpowered. Mercurius shoved him aside first, his sword closing the space between them instantly. Belisarius slipped backwards, avoiding a lethal blow, but receiving a shallow gash across his chest all the same.

He recovered as quickly as he could, pain sharpening his focus. He began a single-minded assault, pushing Mercurius into retreat. Though he landed no blows, neither did his brother, and Belisarius never allowed him to get close enough to grapple. The insults stopped as Mercurius was forced to fight with all his concentration. He made to slice across Belisarius’ temple again, but this time Belisarius dodged and struck true with his blade, tearing a deep gash in Mercurius’ chest.

Mercurius stumbled back, blocking a killing blow with his sword while he flung sand in Belisarius’ eyes. Temporarily blinded, Belisarius was struck down with a debilitating slash across his knees. He fell to the ground.

Before his brother could land another blow, Belisarius thrust his sword up, missing Mercurius’ gut as his brother leapt back. But he couldn’t get back to his feet. It wouldn’t be long before he was completely overpowered. Another swing batted his blade away. Mercurius grabbed his sword hand. Belisarius desperately gripped his brother’s in defence. Unexpectedly, Mercurius’ knee swung up, hitting him squarely in the chest. Belisarius’ grip loosened on Mercurius, who tore away.

“Didn’t anyone teach you how to play dirty?”

The hilt of his brother’s sword came down to brain him.

They’d rushed from the dungeons into the palace above to find a group of mangled bodies at the entrance. Selene towed Charis along with her, desperate to find out where Belisarius was duelling his brother. Charis had told her between gasps that no one would intervene after the duel was begun, and that it wouldn’t end until one lay dead. She couldn’t believe Belli had been fool enough to agree to it, or to respect the rules of engagement. Honour and rituals were less than worthless if Mercurius won. Darius would never have stood for it. The emperor would have burned the monster to a fucking crisp. Since he was no longer around to do what needed doing, Selene would do it herself.

It wasn’t long before they found someone who pointed them in the direction of the training grounds. Once there, they were both out of breath. Selene caught the beginning of the vicious fight, the sounds of clashing steel ringing out above the quiet murmurs of the gathered crowd. They stayed on the outskirts, careful not to be seen. She spotted Nicephorus not far away, apart from the others.

“Stay here. I need to get the praetor.”

“What could he possibly do to stop this?”

“Nothing. But we can’t let Mercurius win.”

Selene dashed to the praetor and yanked him aside.

“Selene? What in the hells-”

“No time! Grab a sword and charge at Mercurius. Keep Belisarius alive long enough for me to take his brother down if you can’t.”

“I couldn’t poss-”

“Do it before we’re calling that monster ‘emperor!’”

Protocol warred with loyalty in his green eyes before he nodded grimly.

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