So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(101)

He counted the number of drum strikes, and on the twentieth one, he saw Two climbing a spike-studded pole to ring the bell. Five started up the second pole.

“He did it!” Four exclaimed with a grin.

Rupert heaved a sigh of relief. Five had gone fast enough that Two had been hard-pressed to beat him. Indeed, Two rang his bell only a few seconds before Five.

And Rupert was now more convinced than ever that Five had been well trained for combat.

The officer in charge on the field told the second team to line up. Rupert made sure to place himself between One and Four. If One wanted to cause trouble, he’d have to go through Rupert first.

The trumpet blared, and they took off.

Rupert reached a rope at the same time as One, but he climbed faster and was the first to reach the top. He glanced at Four to make sure he was climbing all right, then took off, running across the grid, his feet landing firmly on one rope after another.

The crowd roared, then started to chant Seven!

He was almost across when the ropes suddenly heaved underfoot, throwing him off balance. He fell forward and landed facedown on the grid, which was now undulating like waves on the ocean.

A yelp sounded to his left. Four had fallen through the grid, but had caught a rope with his hands, leaving his feet to dangle over the mud pit.

Rupert glanced to his right. One was behind him, facedown and jerking the ropes on purpose to make the grid unstable. Asshole.

He looked back at Four. The Eberoni farmer was dangling underneath the grid, but still managing to move forward, hand over hand, as he made his way to the second wall.

With the grid heaving up and down, the best Rupert could do was move forward on all fours. Luckily, he didn’t have far to go.

He reached the second wall. One was now frantically trying to catch up.

Rupert scanned the pit in front of him and spotted the boar running about, desperately searching for a way to escape. The strange surroundings and the noise of the crowd had agitated the animal to the point it was ready to attack.

He jumped to the first platform. Then the second one. And the third. By this time, he had too much momentum built up, and he nearly skidded off the edge of the platform. He fell back and grabbed on.

The crowd resumed its chant: Seven! Seven! He rose to his feet. One more jump and he’d be on the third and last wall. A simple climb up the spike-studded pole to ring the bell, and he’d be done.

He glanced back to check on Four’s progress. One and Four had both reached the second wall. Four was focused on a platform, preparing to leap, when One ran at him and pushed him into the pit.

With a screech, the crowd leaped to their feet. The boar reacted to the noise, snorting and scurrying about.

Four ran for the first column to try to climb up to the platform, but the columns were smooth stone and there was nothing to hold on to.

Dammit. Rupert moved toward him, jumping from one platform to another. While he was going in the wrong direction, One leaped across the platforms, headed toward the third wall.

Four cried out in terror as the boar spotted him. Rupert reached his column and lay flat on the platform, hooking his boots over one end as he stretched an arm down to Four.

“Grab on!” Rupert shouted.

As the boar started to charge, Four latched on to Rupert’s arm.

Seven! Seven! The crowd chanted.

Rupert strained to pull the man up onto the platform.

Seven! Seven! The crowd erupted in a cheer when Rupert hauled Four safely onto the platform.

“Are you all right?” Rupert asked.

Four lay there, breathing heavily. “You saved my life.”

“We’re not done yet. Can you jump?”

Four nodded. “I’ll be fine. You go first.”

As Rupert stood, the bell rang. One had finished the course. He waved his arms in victory, but the crowd didn’t seem to notice.

As Rupert leaped across the platforms, the chanting started again. Seven! Seven!

He landed on the third wall and glanced back to make sure Four was all right. When Four made it to the wall, Rupert scrambled up a pole, rang the bell, and jumped down.

The crowd went wild.

Holy shit. He ran a hand through his hair. Stefan was going to be pissed.

*

Up in the royal box, Brigitta heaved a sigh of relief while her brother let loose a long string of curses.

“Who does this Seven bastard think he is?” Gunther growled at Lord Argus. “Mador and Tarvis had excellent runs, and no one even noticed!”

“We could disqualify Seven for going backward on the course,” Lord Argus suggested, then his skinny shoulders slumped. “But we might end up with a riot on our hands.”

Gunther snorted. “The crowd acts like he’s some sort of damned hero.”

Because he is, Brigitta thought. As the crowd continued to shout Seven, a shocking thought jumped into her mind. The Telling Stone marked with the number seven! All this time, she’d thought it referred to the contest of seven men competing for her. But it meant much more than that. It meant Rupert, himself, for he was number seven.

She took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Surely if the stones had predicted Rupert, that meant he would survive and they would have their happy ending.

Her skin suddenly prickled with an odd feeling that she was being watched. She looked around, but couldn’t spot anyone.

Her attention snapped back to Lord Argus when he told her brother, “The crowd already knows that number Four had the worst time. They could get violent if we don’t make him the loser.”