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Gudrun turned to her left and called out, "Stahl."

A tall man in black leathers with a saber girted at his waist stood at a nearby table and bowed. "Milady?"

"Stahl, you are my champion. Can you best this yellow warrior?"

The crowd drew in its collective breath and, from his place to the right of the throne, Egil started forward, only to be stopped by a glare and a raised hand from Aiko.

Stahl smiled and stepped to the amphitheater floor. He was lithe and lean, perhaps thirty, and he towered over Aiko by a head or more. "My queen, the true test of the sword is in battle and blood… not in a dance."

Gudrun turned to Aiko. "What say you, sword dancer, will you test your skills against my champion?"

Aiko glanced up at Stahl, now at hand, and said, "I do not fight merely for show."

Stahl snorted in derision, but the queen raised an eyebrow. "Ah, then, golden warrior, you fight for principle or prize?"

Aiko stared flatly at Gudrun. "Either or both."

"Then what will you have?"

Ignoring Egil's silent gesture of negation, Aiko asked, "What do you offer?"

The queen gestured magnanimously. "If you win, take what you will."

Dissembling, Aiko looked about, her gaze passing over golden goblets and jewelry and other riches. "Would you give me a ring?"

Gudrun raised her hands so that her jeweled rings faced Aiko. "Any we wear."

Still disguising her true goal, Aiko then turned and gestured at a serving girl. "Would you give me a thrall?"

Gudrun smiled. "Any of our slaves."

Now Aiko drew nigh to that which she truly wanted and held out a hand toward the left-hand wall. "Would you give me an animal from your gardens, or perhaps a bird?"

Stahl growled, "She delays, my queen."

Agitated, Gudrun snapped, "If you win-ha!-we will give you all four: a ring, a thrall, an animal, and a bird. Do you accept?"

Aiko smiled slowly. "Oh, I will take but one and not all, if I but have your word that you will freely give me what I choose."

"You go too far, yellow woman, when you question our word. Yet we, Gudrun the Comely, Queen of the Jutes, do so swear."

Stahl turned to Aiko. "You have bargained for your reward should you win, yet it is a bargain made in vain, for I will be the victor. Regardless, there are two sides to any bargain, and so I ask: what will you give when you lose?"

Aiko looked up at him. "What would you have?"

Stahl turned to the queen. Gudrun shrugged noncommittally and said, "Ask what you will, my champion."

Stahl leered down at Aiko. "I ask that you spend the night pleasuring the royal guard."

The hall burst into laughter and there was a smattering of applause. But above it all there came a cry from Arin: "No, Aiko, pledge not."

Alos, goblet in his right hand, pitcher in his left, lurched to the edge of the amphitheater and called out in his native tongue: "Nei! Nei lofte!"

Egil, too, protested, shouting "No," but once again Aiko quelled him with a staying hand.

She turned to Stahl. "I do so swear."

Stahl grinned wolfishly and then turned to his table and called out, "Braun, my main gauche and helm!"

As a rotund man rushed out from the chamber, Aiko began removing her bright ribands. Egil stepped to Aiko's side and stood taking the ribands from her. As he reached out for the bright green one, he whispered, "Aiko, you don't have to do this. There are other ways to get what we came for."

Aiko looked at him and murmured back, "But this way we have it given to us freely."

"If you win, Aiko. Only if you win."

She glared at him, then her gaze softened. "Fear not, my friend, for I will not lose."

Finally the last of her ribands was loose, and Aiko took up her helm and removed the peacock feather and handed it to Egil, who slipped it through a band in his hat. She donned the helmet and drew her blades and stood and waited, her leathers dark, the small bronze plates sewn on her jacket dull in the lanternlight, her steel helm casting no glints, her swords now in hand. She looked every inch a grim warrior, and Stahl was taken somewhat aback, yet he was taller, heavier, and would outreach her by a foot or more.

The rotund man came scurrying back into the hall. He bore a main gauche and an open-faced helmet with chain-link hanging down 'round the back from side to side. Stahl donned his steel cap and handed Braun his belt with its scabbarded sword, then he drew the blades, the main gauche in his left hand, the saber in his right. Bearing the scabbards and belt, Braun scurried away.

Aiko faced him, her eyes shaded by her helm. "To first blood?" she asked.

Stahl nodded. "To first blood."

Together they walked to the very center of the amphitheater floor, Aiko seeming tiny beside his towering form. When they reached midfloor, Aiko called out to the assembly entire: "This will be no courtly mock battle with elaborate flourishes for show-but to first blood instead."

And Stahl called out: "But should someone suffer a fatal wound, well, can I help it if my skill is so great?" He bowed 'round to all as they cheered and called his name.

Alos, sitting on the edge of the amphitheater shouted out: "Focka du!" Then he raised his pitcher to his lips and guzzled from it.

Now Aiko and Stahl turned to face the queen and bowed.

"Let it begin," she cried.

The duelists faced one another and saluted with swords-Stahl's gaze arrogant, Aiko's impassive-then dropped into crouches, circling warily. Of a sudden in a whirl of steel, Aiko sprang forward, her blades but a blur-

– cling-clang, shing-shang, ding-clang, shang-zs-

– and after but eight quick strokes she disengaged and stepped back.

Frowning, Stahl looked at her-"First blood," she said-and then he felt the warm trickle running down his right cheek.

Unbelieving, he struck his right hand to his face and wiped. His fingers came away wetly scarlet. An incredulous gasp went up from the crowd, and Stahl, stunned, turned to his queen. "Milady, hers could not be but an accidental touch. I demand true satisfaction. Let not the whim of Fortune settle this match."

Aiko looked impassively at Gudrun. "Fortune goes to those who are most prepared."

The queen glared at Aiko and showed her teeth in a rictus grin. "To second blood," she hissed.

"Madam, I protest," called Egil.

But Aiko held up a hand to silence him and then turned to Stahl. "To second blood, Stahl. But be warned, if it's to third blood we must go, then it will be to the death."

Stahl clicked his heels together and bowed his head sharply in acceptance.

Once again they saluted with their steel, the look in the queen's champion's eyes now uncertain, wary, the look in Aiko's impassive. As before Stahl dropped into a crouch, but Aiko stood erect and waited, turning to face him as he circled. Then in a blur, steel skirling on steel, she attacked-

– shang-clang, shing-shang, chang-shang, clang-zs-

– and once again she disengaged and stepped back, calling out: "Second blood!"

The crowd groaned, for a trickle of blood now streamed down Stahl's left cheek.

Unbelieving, Stahl looked at the golden warrior and her blades, and opened his mouth to speak. But Egil had crossed the floor to come to Aiko's side, and he escorted her to stand before the queen. "Milady," he said, bowing, "Lady Aiko has proven her skill, not only by drawing first blood, but by drawing second blood as well. She bargained fairly for reward should she win, which as you can see she has done. Hence, let her choose her prize, then let us resume your celebration of love."

Queen Gudrun glared at her disgraced champion, then through gritted teeth hissed at Aiko. "Of the four that I offered, choose."

"Denflugl, denflugl!" cried Alos, waving his pitcher aloft, then whispering to one and all, "We want the rutting bird." And he gulped down another great swallow, red wine running across his cheeks to dribble onto the lapels of his tan jacket.