Eye of the Labyrinth Read Free Page B

shallowly as possible.
    “I can keep fighting,” he gasped.
    Dargin smiled. Kirsh was rather pleased to notice blood dripping from a cut over his eye and a large bruise beginning to manifest itself on his jaw. At least he’d given a good account of himself.
    “It’s not my intention to kill you, boy.”
    “You could have fooled me,” Kirsh muttered, grimacing as he took a breath that sent a sharp spear of pain through his side.
    “You’re too used to fighting men who pull their punches. That’ll not happen here.” Dargin turned to one of the men who had been watching the fight. The spectators’ reaction disturbed Kirsh almost as much as Dargin’s obvious desire to beat him to a pulp. They had not cheered and chanted the way men did, watching a fracas. They had stayed silent and observed the entire exchange with the detached interest of men watching some sort of scientific experiment. “Alexin, get him to the physician. He’ll need to bind up those ribs of his if he’s to be of any use to anyone.”
    Dargin stepped forward and offered Kirsh his hand. Kirsh studied it for a moment warily, before accepting it and letting Dargin pull him to his feet. “You’ve got guts, boy, I’ll grant you that.”
    Kirsh didn’t answer. It hurt too much to speak. He eyed the men surrounding him with caution, but there was no malice in their expressions. They simply thought he needed taking down a peg or two. The realization was something of a shock to him.
    “Come on,” said Alexin. Kirshov accepted his assistance reluctantly and let himself be led away. He didn’t look back, but he could feel every eye in the yard on him. He had no idea what they were thinking.
    “You shouldn’t feel too bad,” Alexin assured him once they were out of earshot. “You didn’t shame yourself.”
    “Does he do that to every new recruit?”
    Alexin grinned. “Only the ones he thinks are going to be trouble.”
    “Did he do it to you?”
    “No.”
    “What makes me so special?”
    “Dargin just wants to make sure you know where your loyalties lie.”
    “By beating the shit out of me?” he asked doubtfully.
    Alexin hesitated before answering. “You must know how unpopular the decision was to appoint you Regent of Dhevyn when you marry Alenor.”
    “I suppose.”
    “Then get used to it, your highness. If you plan to be regent for long, you’re going to have to win these men over.”
    “I know,” he agreed, unhappily. “It’s just ...”
    “What?”
    “I don’t know. I guess I was hoping all it would take is a few rounds of drinks.”
    Alexin looked at him, trying to determine if he was joking, then he smiled and shook his head. “I hope you’ve still got your sense of humor by the end of the week, your highness.”
    “Could you stop calling me that?”
    “What would you prefer to be called?”
    “Kirsh. All my friends call me Kirsh.”
    “Kirsh it is, then.”
    Kirsh smiled, thinking that when all was said and done, he had made a good start. He had survived Dargin’s beating and made the first tentative steps toward friendship with Alexin.
    How bad could it get? ...

Chapter 3
    Very bad, Kirsh discovered over the next two years. The beating he had received that day was merely the first of many. Every time he stepped into the training arena, somebody managed to get the better of him. He was not badly trained, he knew that, but the men of the Queen’s Guard were superbly trained, and none of them stood to lose his position if Kirsh broke a few bones. He realized now that training with his father’s guard was a world away from training every day, all day, with a squad of men whose dedication to their queen was inspired by true loyalty, rather than a fat purse at the end of the week.
    If he had a friend at all in the Queen’s Guard, it was Alexin Seranov, the second son of the Duke of Grannon Rock. The young man was as universally liked as Kirshov was universally despised. He seemed to hold no prejudice, one way or