Page 70 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
“Where you walk, I have strayed,waiting for you to find me.
When you speak, I listen for you to say you can’t live without me.”
Other Durevolians have joined in now, most of them better singers than the bard.
“You were my life, my every breath, the reason I kept on living.
But when you left me in the past, you lost me.”
After a long-held note, the bard stands dramatically, closing his eyes and slipping into the bridge.
“Dru, can you sing?” Marcus wonders beside her, voice muted in the daze of her mind.
Still, she doesn’t open her eyes. The Nettare continues to cling to her thoughts, soaking them in splendid carelessness.
“In the past, is where I lost you, and you lost me, my love.
In the dark, I’ve been waiting for you to find me.”
He holds the last note longer than most, and by the end, her voice trembles so hard that she barely has any breath left. Once the song ends, the crowd erupts into applause and whoops. Coins rain at the bard’s feet, and he drops to the ground to pick them up before heading back.
Without warning, one of the council members, slams into their table, eyes glazed over from the drug Marcus mentioned before.
“You’re not Sabina,” they slur. “I saw you go up there for her, and no one said a damned thing. It’s not right.”
I’m too drunk for this.But at least there are no Phaedrans around to witness this man’s apt ravings.
Marcus stands, his chair scraping against the smooth stone floor. He grasps the man by his tunic and pushes him away from the edge of the table. “You will contain yourself, sir. Those are dangerous accusations, and they won’t be tolerated in the presence of the king.”
Dru moves to stand as well, as the council member stumblesaway from Marcus and into her. Her knees buckle from the weight and the wine’s hold on her, managing to catch herself on the table. The man isn’t so lucky. With nothing to grab onto on his way down, he grips a part of her dress and rips the fabric.
She looks down at him and blinks—finding he’s no longer beside her. Looking around, she finds Marcus throwing him against the wall. He crumples to the ground, unconscious.
Another man drunkenly approaches Marcus from behind, a glass horn raised high in his hand.
“Marcus!” she yells, and he turns in time to catch the man’s forearm before he can smash it over his head.
He throws the man to the side with ease, yelling at Cato’s guards. “Get him out of here, now!”
Cato stands up, swaying. “You can’t tell me what to do. I want to stay and fight.”
“Now’s not the time to argue,” Marcus huffs, nodding at the guards.
Two of his men grip the king’s arms, practically carrying him out of the domed tabernae and up the stairs. He protests the entire time until he’s too far away to hear. The bard sneaks out behind the third guard, as if he were never here.Coward.
She heads toward Marcus, who’s now fighting off a slew of Anziano’s elite seeking vengeance for their friends.Why hasn’t he pulled out his sword yet, if only to threaten them with it and get them to back off?But then she sees two of them gripping his arms while another lands a punch to his jaw. Rage burns a path through her veins, further quieting the effects of the wine.
Grabbing an empty tankard, she swings it around and smashes it into the back of the head of the one throwing the punches while sweeping her foot beneath her legs. The woman falls onto her backside, unconscious.
One of the men holding Marcus releases him and lunges for Dru, allowing Marcus to land a punch in the other’s stomach. Theycrumple to the ground, holding their midsection and gasping for breath.
Chaos ensues around her as she squares up with the man. Glass horns break on the ground, tankards clanging against bone. Blood spatters on her cheek from someone nearby. But she doesn’t flinch.
The Durevolians were clearly itching for a brawl—it didn’t take much to rile them up. But they fight each other like rats in a barrel, when they should be saving their rage for the Phaedrans.
The man before her takes a drunken swing in her direction, which she sidesteps easily. Part of the Faithless training involves learning how to fight while inebriated. And while she hasn’t had much occasion to use that particular skill, she’s glad to have it now. Although it does take more concentration.
Each time the man aims for her, she avoids his blows, hoping he’ll tire out.
