Page 45 of A Crown Without Mercy

Nicolai and Kieran escorted her through their quarters and down a long, winding stairway which led into a tunnel beneath the main wing. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“Where the entertainment is,” Nicolai replied cryptically.

It was not long before the sounds of music and laughter grew in intensity. Two well-dressed guards opened a set of heavy, ornate doors and when she stepped into the extravagant room arm in arm with Nicolai and Kieran the boisterous sounds became hushed whispers, and the guests eyed the three of them with curious glances. The poet, who was standing amongst the crowd, banged the end of his staff on the stone floor. He then waved it toward Nicolai and Kieran with a slight bow. “May the night continue with riddle and poem for the lord’s he hosts.”

The crowd turned their attention back to one another and the conversations and laughter continued.

“Where are we?” Sylvana whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Nicolai teased.

Kieran bent over in a joking manner and waved his free arm in front of the three of them. “Tis the place where we leave our troubles at the door, milady.” He winked.

They were escorted through the crowd and Sylvana watched how Nicolai and Kieran were greeted by everyone they passed, as if vying for their attention. Nicolai motioned for Sylvana to sit on the long, gilded, high-back chair, while he and Kieran sat on either side of her. Fresh goblets of cherry wine were handed to each of them while to guards took their place and stood on either side of the chair.

In the center of the room, the guests were playing a game she had never witnessed before.

She watched in awe as she had never seen lords and ladies running around without regard for their status, titles, or reputations.

“What are they doing?

“Playing a game called Esquivar.”

“I have never seen or heard of it.”

Kieran leaned against Sylvana’s shoulder. “We’ll play soon. Watch what they do. You’ll get the hang of it.”

“You want me to play?”

“But of course.” Nicolai chuckled. “There are two teams, each team wears a colored vest. Your team will try to kill the other using the short spears they are throwing at each other.”

A roar from the crowd erupted when the last of the blue vested lords was hit. Sylvana took another drink and laughed when a brawl between the two broke out.

“You beskaldi! I caught it!” one of them yelled.

“It was a clear shot to the chest. If it were real, it would have taken your fucking hand!” his opponent replied.

“Allow the Acherons to call the game,” another yelled, to the amusement of the crowd, all of whom turned their attention to Nicolai and Kieran.

“Our lady shall decide his fate,” Kieran yelled.

Once again, the crowd erupted.

“Kieran! Do not make me decide.”

Nicolai leaned in. “Do you think he caught the spear, or do you think it hit his chest?”

“I don’t know? I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Make a decision. It’s not a patient crowd,” Kieran teased.

“Great, no pressure,” Sylvana replied to Nicolai’s and Kieran’s amusement.

“If it were real, would he have been able to stop it?” Kieran asked.

“Well, yes, seeing how he is Nosferatu,” Sylvana replied.

Nicolai and Kieran laughed aloud. “Good point, but just pick a winner,” Nicolai said.

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