The Tournament by Scarlett Vora Read Free Book Online Page A

be the last thing she remembered. She lay down in the grass, silky against her cheek, and bled.  
    "Leave me here," said Ruby. "Let me die in peace."
    "Why would I move you?" asked the young man. "Your blood is for the grass. It will fertilize my seed."  
    Ruby shut her eyes and began to drift. She felt peaceful now, sleepy, and that was good.

6
The King's Gratitude

    She woke in the doctor's tent.  
    He was not alone. Another man stood with him, identical in bearing, but taller and more muscular. A soldier, Ruby thought.
    "I failed the Trial," Ruby said, panicked. "I didn't complete it. I failed."  
    "No, Ruby." The doctor knelt in front of her. The stranger followed behind and stood at the doctor's back. "You were injured, and needed care. You passed the Trial. Of course you passed."  
    The doctor and the stranger exchanged a look.
    "The King has come to visit you," said the doctor. "Will you greet him?"  
    "The King?" Ruby repeated.  
    The doctor slipped away. The stranger took hold of a stool, then sat where the doctor had knelt. He looked comfortable, at ease. Ruby wondered how many times he'd sat down at a soldier's deathbed during the war, perfecting his bedside manner, and shuddered.
    "I'm sorry to meet you under such terrible circumstances," said the King. "But I wanted to apologize in person. All aspirants come under my protection the moment they enter the Tents. It is my responsibility to keep you safe, and I failed. If there is anything it is in my power to give you, any restitution I can offer—"
    "My cunt," wailed Ruby, remembering the young man. Tears flooded her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. "My cunt is ruined."  
    What could the King give her? She'd die without her cunt.  
    "Is this a show?" asked the King, pitching his voice low.  
    "You know what I think," said the doctor, close by. "I won't tell you again."  
    "You should explain," said the King.  
    "Go wait by the door," said the doctor impatiently. He took her hand in his own strong and capable one and gentled his tone. "Ruby, listen to me. Nothing is ruined. You will make a full recovery."
    Ruby tried to reach between her legs. "I don't believe you," she said. The handsome young man had ripped her apart.  
    "Not yet." The doctor grabbed her wrist. "You nearly died. It took all of my skill and all of my magic to make you whole again. Give your body time to heal."
    Her tears slowed. "Do you swear? That I am whole, and I will recover?"
    "I swear it," said the doctor.
    Ruby sighed back into the bed.
    "Should I call one of the other mages?" asked the King. "Pia has offered to help."  
    "She's fine. Heavily sedated, that's all," said the doctor, his robe rustling as he stood. "What will happen to Zov?"  
    "Nothing," said the King. "He didn't break the treaty. He's allowed to take what is given freely."  
    "And how was she to know that he didn't belong in the Mage Hall?"  
    "Some people will do anything for a crown," said the King. "Or even a bead."
    "He took her by trickery," insisted the doctor. "He abused our most sacred tradition. And if he can get away with it once…."  
    "What do you suggest I do?" demanded the King. "Make a list of demands? You know I can't."  
    "If you don't lay hands on her before this Tournament is over," said the doctor, his voice low and angry, "I will leave Morrow, and sell my skills to the highest bidder."  
    "Should your threat make me eager?" replied the King. "Already for this woman you have betrayed my trust and squandered your magic. Now you jeopardize your position at court. She sounds like a poison, not a prize."  
    "The cures to many diseases begin as poisons," said the doctor. "And vice versa."  
    "Peace, brother," said the King. "I can take her off your hands, if that's what you want."
    "I'm thinking of you," said the doctor. "And of Morrow."  
    "And I am thinking of my cock, and how much she will love it," said the King. "She'll never want yours again."  
    The rustling of the tent flap