'I couldn't stop now. I'd caused so much misery that stopping now would earn me all the misery plus no reward at the end. I had to keep going.'

-Clare Urbanski, Sixth in Line
***

Gillian knew he was set for a tough challenge, the moment he was escorted to the arena.
After being locked up in the lurid dungeon since last evening, the sudden light of the day greeting him, was almost blinding. He shielded his eyes against the sun, and flung his arm out of the guard's hold.

Sweeping his gaze around the arena, he found his heart thumping with an unknown force. The entire place was filled to the brim with an eager crowd. For the men gathered to witness the event, it might just have been a show- one for their own entertainment.

Gillian found solace in the fact that they had kept the chieftain away from this. And upon closer inspection, there did not seem to be a single man from their convoy in attendance.

He took a deep breath of determination, knowing that this was all done by the Prince as an attempt to lower his confidence.
Little did the boy knew that he was not going to waver by such cheap tactics.

He dug his heels into the sand and raised his chin, regarding the restless crowd, awaiting the duel to begin; and to the podium where the Prince himself sat, along with a few guards and the old minister from before.

Gillian did not bow before him, choosing to acknowledge his presence with a simple nod of his head.

He saw the man's jaw twitch, indicating his displeasure.

Well, you aren't going to get any respect from me, boy.

He stood still, waiting for the Prince to speak, not caring about the consequences of his blatant show of disrespect.

The arena, which was filled with impatient murmurs, quietened as soon as the Prince opened his mouth to speak.

"My beloved subjects, I know you are far too excited for this special duel. I must say, I am impressed with your alacrity at attending this, even on such a short notice. As you already know, we are gathered her for a very special judgement. This here-"

He raised a passive hand in Gillian's direction, before continuing,

"-is the general from a distant northern clan. This brave man was considerate enough to grant us such a lovely entertainment for the day. He has agreed to fight unto death, with nothing but his own skills at his disposal."

The stillness in the crowd, told Gillian that they probably hadn't been aware of his identity. There was every possibility that they were called here for a simple duel- something to spice up their mundane lives.

It was only now, that they were finally realising the severity of the situation.

"But before we have the duel, I would like to invite a very special guest to bear witness to this event."

Gillian saw him say something to the minister standing beside him. The old man looked positively hesitant, but still proceeded to move towards the back of the podium.

He stood impatiently, wanting nothing more than to get this duel over with, before he saw the man return to the podium with another figure accompanying him.

Gillian's stance faltered when he caught sight of Rayna's face. She didn't look at him as she made her way to the Prince's side, smiling serenely.

He found it hard to believe that the woman they had come so far for, was standing beside the very man, who had imprisoned her father.

She even looked different- quite unlike the woman he had come to know, and despise.

A fluid fabric of soft lavender, cloaked her body from her shoulders, down to her feet; secured with only a single golden band below her breast.

Beneath that dress, one could hardly make out the contours of her body- something that irked Gillian to no extent, considering that he knew what hid there.

But what if she didn't have anything to hide anymore?

What if the child couldn't survive the gruelling days it was subjected to?

The thought caused Gillian to break into a cold sweat. He had spent such a long time refusing to acknowledge his child; however now, the possibility of being bereaved of the same, caused a deep ache in his heart.

He squinted his eyes, trying to gauge Rayna's expressions; but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't decipher the look on her face. His mind was plagued with innumerable questions.

Why was she here?

Had the Prince finally decided to send her back?

Had she been harmed?

The last question sent a jolt of uneasiness through him. He did not want to think of that possibility.

He had, over the course of an entire week, avoided thinking of her probable misfortune. He did not want to feel anything for the woman.
But at that particular moment, he couldn't help but feel; feel for her malady.

For no matter how connivingly she might have tried to escape this position, considering her tenacity, she had to have been subjected to unspeakable horrors to even be standing in front of him.

There was no mistaking it.
The way the Prince looked at her, was not the gaze of a dispassionate ruler, but that of an owner.

He was looking at her rather smugly- like he knew he had been able to break her spirit, and that did not sit well with Gillian.
As no matter how much hatred he fostered for her, she was still a member of his clan. And whether he liked it or not- his wife.

He knew she would not be here willingly, not when the bastard had her father in chains. She had, quite apparently, devised a way to make the best of her situation- like she had always done; and Gillian couldn't help but admire her for keeping herself alive for this long, while in the enemy's den.

As for the child...he could not bring himself to think of the possibilities.

"You all must be quite confused, and I understand. This fair maiden beside me, has been a lovely company for quiet some time. She has proved herself to be loyal to me. And she stands here, as my devoted subject and the recipient of my favour."

Gillian fisted his hands in rage. This was no way to parade a woman- especially a woman of their clan...a woman who was another's wife...

Rayna had yet to look at him, keeping her eyes dutifully fixed at the Prince, who took her hand in his, and gave it a light kiss.

"My delight has known no bounds since this remarkable woman entered my life. And since this was a merry occasion, I wanted her to bear witness to it."
______________________________________

Rayna bit the inside of her cheek to keep her frustration at bay.
She had never felt such immense helplessness.

She knew she couldn't let him see her will falter. Algar was like a hound- he could sniff people's fear and weakness from miles away. That was quite plausibly, one of the main reasons for the fear he had been able to instil in the people.
His skill did not lie in in his bravery, wisdom or knowledge; instead, it lay in his ruthless ability of accurately ascertaining people's vulnerability.

And he was thoroughly accustomed to hers.
He knew she would do anything to save her father- and he made sure to use that to his advantage, hence the current display.
He wanted to show everyone that he owned her, asking her questions she couldn't possibly answer truthfully; and she had no choice but to smile back, trying her best not to cringe at the feel of his hands around hers.

"Well then, let us start with the introduction to the event. Walder?"

He turned to the minister, who had accompanied her there.

"Yes, Your Highness. This duel will be fought unto death. There will be only one winner- the one who outlives the other. Let it begin."

Rayan held her breath, trying her utter best to keep her apprehension in check. She had donned the perfect mask of indifference for this, vowing to not let Algar know about the extent of her discomfort; but it was proving to be more difficult with every passing moment.

"Are you uneasy? Would you prefer to leave?"

Rayna wasn't fooled by the kind words, spoken loud enough for only her to hear, not when she could easily deduce the warning in his eyes- you leave, you lose.

She knew abandoning the arena would mean the death of everyone she held dear to her.

So she gave him her most convincing smile.

"Not at all, My King. I prefer to stay."

The bastard dared to smile with unabashed vanity.

"Then it would please my heart to great extent if you could actually choose to see the fight. Or do you fear for the life of the man? Are you perhaps unable to see him in pain?"

Rayna knew what he meant. He was testing her loyalty.

She was getting tired of this.

She could not tell him how much it hurt her to look at Gillian.

She could not disclose to him, the humiliation that she had felt at the hands of her own husband, when he had chosen to save another woman instead of his own wife and child.

She could not confess to the shame and humiliation she felt at the knowledge of being unable to hate him- the very man who had vowed to never care for her.

She couldn't possibly tell him that she wanted no harm to come to the father of her son; that she couldn't bear to see him in pain, even if he crushed her heart beneath his feet.

"No. You hurt me by doubting my allegiance. As you already know, I do not carry any affection for the man. I am averse to the fight, because it might upset my son."

Her statement drew a sceptical look from the Prince, whose fleeting glance landed at her deftly-hidden abdomen.

"Is that so? Then I suppose it is more of a reason for you to look. You do not want the child to be weak. He has to be strong enough to survive in this world. Why not prepare him from the start?"

Rayna wanted to smack the smirk off his face. Instead, she spoke in a docile tone,

"Of course, My King."

She had just turned her head towards the arena, when he addressed her again,

"And Rayna, I hope you know the result of this fight. The man, no matter how brave he is, cannot possibly win. It would have been possible, if he had a sharper sword...But as heavens deemed, it wasn't in his fate."

His words caused the ground to slip beneath her feet. She had known from the start that he would leave no stone unturned in making Gillian lose. But now that his plan was laid bare before her, she could not help but feel betrayed on the account of the man standing in the arena.

She turned her shocked gaze from the gloating visage of the Prince, to that of her husband. Her eyes fell upon the sword he held in his hand, undoubtedly handed to him by the guards.

When she raised her eyes next, she was met with his own piercing gaze.

The impact caused her to reel with emotion.

She wanted to say so much to him. She wanted to shake him with her own arms, and demand answers.

She wanted to know why he hated her so much.

Why wasn't he able to love her, or their child?

Did he hate her to the extent of wanting to see her dead?

She wanted to relay to him, the hurt she had felt that day in the meadow. She wanted him to know the extent of her pain when she had found him bent at Lynette's side, oblivious to the suffering of his own wife and child.

She wanted to ask him if he even cared for them...if he was here for her, or for her father?
Did he rejoice in her misery?

Nevertheless, she knew that fate did not grant her such luxury. She had to suffice with watching him from afar, schooling her expressions to hide her true feelings. That was the very reason she had avoided looking at him as she had entered the arena. She knew she wouldn't be able to control herself.

And now, when she knew what Algar had planned for him, she felt even more desperate. She wanted to shout at the top of her lungs, warning him-

"Do not use that sword, Gillian! These bastards have blunted the edge. You will never be able to make it out alive. Please!'

But she couldn't possibly do that.
She saw Gillian gulp before turning his gaze away from her, as soon as his opponent- a burly fighter, twice his size, entered the arena, brandishing a formidable looking sword in his iron-clad hands.

She saw him straighten himself, before running his fingers over the blade of his sword- and pausing abruptly.

She knew the moment Gillian realised the blatant trickery. He cast a sour look at Algar, exhibiting all his hatred at him.

But there wasn't much he could do.

Rayna shuddered with anger and revulsion, when she saw the smug smile on Algar's face, as his eyes challenged Gillian to object to the injustice.

She knew he wouldn't do that- couldn't do that. This duel was to be fought in accordance with the Prince's whims. Any objection would mean accepting defeat- and facing the disastrous consequences.

Gillian wouldn't do that. Not for the sake of his wife and child- but that of his chieftain.

"What are you waiting for? Start."

Algar's impatient voice, caused the other fighter to scurry forward. In another second, the deafening bong of the drum, indicted the start of the fight.

Rayna held her breath when she saw the fighter sprint towards Gillian, encompassed in his chainmail and mighty breastplate.

Gillian jumped aside, narrowly missing the hit of his sword. His eyes were determined, but Rayna could well imagine his fear- not for himself, but for failing his comrades.

She knew him well enough to decipher his desperation.
He wanted to win. He needed to win- in order to save her father and his men.

He did this, despite knowing that it was an implausible feat. This was a lost fight- and he knew it.

Her heart bled for him.

She winced at each hit of the blades. For no matter how hard he struck, Gillian could never manage to harm his opponent- not with that useless excuse of a sword.

At the same time, the other man continued delivering blow upon blow on him, leaving cuts and bruises on his majestic body. She could see Gillian's strength weakening. His skin was glistening with perspiration, and his face was eloquent of his pain. But he continued avoiding the fatal blows.

Rayna couldn't bear to see anymore. Her hands shook with fear, and her mouth filled with the taste of blood, with how hard she was biting her lip.

"Stop...."

Her broken whisper caused Algar to be momentarily distracted from the fight. He looked at her with an amused expression.

Throughout the brutal fight, he had been sitting at the edge of his seat, eager to bellow at the next blow upon Gillian.

"What is wrong?"

Regulating the urge to wring his throat, she replied in a weak voice,

"I do not think this should continue, My King."

The twitch of his brow was the only indication of his displeasure.

"Why? Can you not bear to see that man hurt?"

"That is not the case. I am simply saying this for your sake. Killing him would be a foolish decision. This will only result in unprecedented upheaval amongst the people of your land."

His gaze hardened, but Rayna made sure not to cower before his wrath.

"Are you threatening me?"

Before she could answer, she was interrupted by the minister standing beside him.

"Your Highness, if you would allow me...I think she is right. If we allow him to be killed, there will be an uprising. Their people will not sit still. They might ignite a rebellion. The Empire's position is still precarious. Your father's health, coupled with the uncertainty of the situation, makes it an unwise decision. I implore you to reconsider."

Rayna looked at the man with gratitude. She had often noticed the wisdom in his eyes. and now, she knew for sure that he was the only voice of reason in this hellhole.

Algar looked at the elderly man with a contemplating gaze. His vengeance was set aside as he relented with much regret.

"I suppose you are right, Walder."

Rayna took a sigh of relief, awaiting eagerly for him to stop the bloody fight. From the corner of her eyes, she could see Gillian dodge another blow; his body strained with exhaustion.

"I suppose I ought to stop this. However, if I am to do that, I think I deserve something in return."

Rayna felt her heart stutter. She knew he will not be letting this go easily. There will doubtlessly be much to sacrifice in return.

Algar proved her worst fears, when he spoke again, directing a sharp look at her.

"I will stop this right at this moment. I will also let your father free, along with this man and the others. All will be well, Rayna-"

A foreboding descended to the pit of her stomach as she awaited his next words,

"-only if you relinquish the thought of going back. Let your father know that you are here on your own accord. Tell him you are pleased to serve me; that you do not wish to return. I am your lord and lover. Tell him to go back, and not return here if he fears for his own life. If you manage to do that, I will be willing to consider Walder's suggestions."

Rayna had no time to dwell upon her choice; not when she didn't have any. There was only one way forward.

Gillian's distressed grunt cut through the cheering crowd, causing her to blurt out her words in another instance.

"I will! I will do just as you say. Just stop this!"

Her frantic cry was met with a bored look from him. She held her fists against her chest, swinging her gaze between the murderous fight, and the Prince, awaiting his declaration.

It was only when Gillian kneeled pathetically on the ground, awaiting the fatal blow, that Algar's loud voice rang throughout the arena.

"Stop the fight!"
______________________________________

The past few minutes had gone by in a torturous blur. Gillian had accepted his fate the moment he felt the blunt blade beneath his skin.

He knew his life was gravely jeopardised, since a warrior's skills and bravery did not hold for long, without a proper weapon to supplement them. The situation only worsened when the opponent was better equipped by all means.

Still, he had persevered.
He did not have much choice.

When he met Rayna's dreary gaze, he knew she was well aware of the situation. He had even seen the sadist smile the Prince had thrown at her.

At that moment, he was certain he would fail her. He could see it in her eyes- she was convinced of his defeat. He knew he would die at the hands of the other man; he would die and be the cause of the destruction of his entire clan- and the death of chieftain Edgar.

His heart was filled with bitterness, unable to accept the dismal truth.
Ultimately, he had given it his best go.

He tried to forget about his compromised weapon, focussing instead on his skills. They served him well for some time, enabling him to avert quite a few fatal strikes.
But it was only a matter of time. He was soon exhausted from the fruitless efforts. He knew he could not hold on anymore.

And just when he thought it was the end, it was over. The strike of the metal never came, and his opponent shifted back.

Gillian swung a bewildered gaze at the podium, catching sight of Rayna's visibly relieved face, as she held her hand against her stomach.

The arena was filled with grumbling masses, displeased at the sudden interruption.

"I suppose we can stop here. This was a rather interesting duel, but it upsets my companion."

The boy stood with a flourish, before pulling Rayna towards him.
His hand sprawled the extent of her waist before he continued.

"I would rather have an eager lover to bed, instead of a sour one."

The arena was filled with a maddening energy. An array of sounds surrounded Gillian, but he could hear nothing but the rush of blood in his veins.

He felt a rage that ran deep within his core. The implication behind his words was not lost to him.

The image of Rayna's body, being violated by this weasel, swam before Gillian's eyes. He was forced to consider all the horrors she must have endured.

He was reminded of the fierce woman, who had the audacity to claim him against his will; he recalled her unapologetic expression as he confronted her. Although he wanted her to pay dearly for what she had done to him, he had never wanted her to suffer this. He wouldn't wish such a fate upon his worst enemy, let alone on a woman who was a member of his clan...and his wife.

As he saw the tortured expression on her face, his hands itched to yank the bastard's hand from around her; but an unknown force kept him glued to the ground- unable to react.

He saw the horrified face of Rayna; saw the pronounced effort she made to escape the boy's hold. He wanted to gouge out the Prince's eyes when he pulled her further to his side, plastering her body to his.

"You heard it right. I pardon this man. Let us keep the gore for some other day. I will take my leave now. I intend to spend the rest of this day in the company of a certain beauty."

He left the arena with a pointed, victorious look at Gillian, while rubbing his hand against Rayna's waist.

It was a look that conveyed a clear message-

"Fume all you want. She is mine now."
______________________________________

Author's Note-

Hello to all my wonderful readers!
We have our next chapter (finally😅)
What do you think of it?

Will Rayna be able to find a way out of this messy situation?

Also, any theories on your part? What might be the next discourse?

Is Gillian going to finally realise Rayna's worth? Why do you think he feels angry upon Algar's declaration, when he doesn't love Rayna?

Ah! Sometimes I wish I had half the brains that Rayna possesses!

Till the next time!👋