Page 11 of Fox of Fox Hall

The king was enjoying himself, testing hispossible bearers and consort as well as Fox, although Fox didn’tsee how he should play into it. Unless even those in the mountainshad heard rumors about Fox and Domvoda, and Byr Falnya and perhapsthe others thought Fox was still ensconced in Domvoda’s bedchambersor only recently sent away from them. Which made Fox either athreat or a pathetically pining figure.

His face burned for a reason other than the heatand he lowered his shade a fraction to put it between himself andDomvoda as much as he dared. He stared ahead, although he did notlike to watch fighting, even practice fighting. But he supposed theview this one time made up for it.

It should not be soothing to merely look uponone person, and it wasn’t… not precisely. Like some of the otherknights, Byr Conall had removed his doublet, and the shirt beneathwas thin and damp and stuck to his skin. He had rolled up hissleeves as well, and Fox, long overdue for a fucking, wasmesmerized. But though the sight made Fox burn, it also helped himbreathe again. Byr Conall was a reminder that others defied Domvodaall the time. Well, one other here, and he was rather special, butmany others did not come to court at all because they had no wishto bend to Domvoda’s whims. Conall attended on the king when atcourt but otherwise did as he pleased.

Fox couldn’t hear what Conall told the youngerknights but they seemed to respond well to it, tying up theirthick, protective leather doublets despite the heat and reenteringthe ring of older knights observing them so they could pummel oneanother. Fox looked away once the actual contest began and foundthat Domvoda had moved. He and the court had approached thepractice fight without getting too close. Fox dashed after them,trying not to run but very aware of the eyes on him when hestopped.

They were amused that he’d had to hurry. As ifthey weren’t all pressing closer so they could ogle knights invarious states of undress or trying to inch over to Domvoda’s sidenow they’d clearly decided the third Potential was a failure. Theywould ignore all of that and joke aboutFoxrunning to bethere. He would be panting after knights in the rumors now.

He held in his sigh only because it wasn’tentirely incorrect. He should have known better than to acceptConall’s offer. Anything Fox did was subject to scrutiny, so itwouldn’t take much for the court to decide Fox was lifting his tailfor a particular knight or two. He had been so smart and socautious and it was all for nothing, because Fox was red-faced anddamp and they all wanted to fuck the knights so they would say Foxwanted the same.

“Byr Conall,” Domvoda called out, nearly makingFox startle again, certain Domvoda had read his thoughts, “I don’tbelieve you’ve met my guest, Byr Falnya Ovitos Telect etatilli.”

Conall looked up, gaze sweeping over the clusterof nobles around Domvoda before locating the unfamiliar personstanding not far from the king. He bowed his head, some of theknights around him doing the same.

“Byr Falnya,” Domvoda went on, oh so pleasantly,“this is the famous Dragonslayer, the favorite to win many of thetournament events. Although we’ll see if he can this year.Perhaps,” he rolled on as if delighted to make the introduction,“if he does, my Fox will write a new song for him.”

Suddenly, there were eyes on Fox again.

“If you like, my king,” Fox responded, “and ifthe Dragonslayer does not mind.”

The tiniest ripple of surprise carried throughthe crowd, as if no one had considered the Dragonslayer’s opinionin some time. Or ever.

Byr Falnya, unlike his two rivals, was eyeingFox, not the king. He probably should have.

Domvoda was no longer smiling although his toneremained pleasant. “Byr Conall, what do you think? Would you likeyet another song about your deeds?”

Conall started forward, likely not wanting toshout matters that should be discussed quietly.

Domvoda waved for Conall to stop before he couldtake more than a few steps. “Really, Conall, there’s no need tojoin us. Especially in that state.”

Fox tightened his grip on the handle of thesunshade. Conall paused then bowed his head before returning to hiswork of helping the others. Fox could not, would not look atDomvoda after that. He left the king to his Potentials and staredat the sparring as if it wasn’t stomach-turning play violence. Itwas still easier to look at than Domvoda’s amused expression.

If the other knights had similar thoughts, theydid not speak them or wisely kept their voices down. But, unlessFox imagined it, they stepped closer to Conall. Conall showed noreaction, neither anger nor fear. He focused on the sparring,calling a halt to it so he could pull the training knights apartand talk to them.

“They could at least tell us all what’s goingon,” someone in the crowd complained.

Fox sneered to himself. The nobles all watchedand gambled during tournaments. Surely they must knowsomethingof the rules of fighting.

“This move has to be fast and you have to get itright,” Conall said, louder as if he’d heard, although he didn’tlook at anyone in the crowd. “In the heat of things, even during acontest, your mind will narrow, your heart will race. So you haveto trust your body to follow through without thinking. Which meanspractice and more practice until you don’t need to consider anaction to follow through with it. So that you’ll act even when youwant to freeze, or curl into a ball, or run home to your bearer.You do that because your opponent will do the same, and you want tobe the one to strike them when the time comes. If they freeze, youwill move. Do you understand? You practice so that whoever,whatever you face, if you need to, you will strike first. That’show you survive. Is that not so, Fox?”

Fox sucked in a breath. The tip of his tailtapped against his arm, showing nerves where no one else could see.Conall did not even glance at him.

“I’m no fighter, Byr Conall,” Fox reminded him.He didn’t think he sounded breathless but he felt lightheaded. “ButI believe those who run sometimes also survive.”

The laughter from the crowd was a mix of shockedand genuinely amused. Fox stayed focused on Conall, who finallylooked at him, warm as not even the sun could be. “Although,” Foxadded, brighter inside and out, soothed despite himself, “it helpsto have a brave knight nearby. Perhaps we should stop interruptingall of you at your work so that there might be morefullytrainedknights in the future.”

There was a bit more shocked laughter.

“A thoughtful Fox today,” Conall answered,praising Fox like Fox was one of those he was teaching. “Whononetheless strengthens my lesson; you have to be quick, evenaround brave knights.”

Fox nearly gave his sunshade a twirl, fifteenagain whenever Conall was involved.

For the same reason, Fox lagged behind theothers as Domvoda walked on to inspect where the shaded box for theking and his guests to sit during the tournament was beingconstructed. The box did not look as if it would be spacious. Someof those fawning over Domvoda now would be out in the sun or seatedelsewhere, or expected to standnearthe royal box, but notin it. All of the byr present should be wondering if they wouldhave a seat. Possibly they were, as Domvoda wanted them to.

With the Potentials and perhaps some of theirfamilies, Fox didn’t think the box would fit more than ten orfifteen others, and twelve would be close. It would have byrsitting pressed together like the commoners who would travel towatch the tournament and stand or sit in rows farther from theaction.

The byr around the king were going to beinsufferable in the next few days as they vied for seats in thatbox. Fox was already exhausted as the realization hit him, andtilted his shade down so he could look back to the sparring ring,which was more peaceful to contemplate.

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