Bound (A Faery Story 1)

his mouth as the referee entered. The vamps retreated. They talked

amongst themselves as the gnome needlessly explained the rules.

Everyone knew them. No technology was allowed. Ancient

weapons were the only ones allowed. The vampires were able to use

their fangs and claws. If Cian had been here, Beck would have been

allowed to use their psychic connection. Other than that, there were

very few rules. Mercy must be given if asked for. If a combatant

requested quarter, the warrior fighting him must give it. The fallen

fighter would leave, and the battle would resume. If no quarter was

asked, then death was an acceptable outcome.

Beck felt the weapon in his hand. It was his sword, once his

father’s. He had managed to save it as he fled Tir na nÒg. He had

heard that his uncle mourned its loss. It was the traditional weapon of

the Seelie King. No amount of money or power could replace what it

meant to their culture. Some said that as long as Beckett Finn still

carried the sword, there was hope. Beck wasn’t sure about that. A

large part of him simply wanted to live out his life in some form of

comfort. The idea of being king was a vague dream. Now he only

wanted to save his brother and find a stable life. Winning Meggie was

the first step.

There was a roar in the crowd as the referee held up a small black

flag. A battle horn sounded, and the tournament began.

There wasn’t a burst of fighting. Beck knew that the vampires had

used their time well. The vampires stalked him, attempting to distract

him while some worked their way around to his back. Beck sighed.

They intended to surround him. They would work together to take

him out, and then they would fight each other.

They didn’t understand a thing. He very much preferred it this

way. Chaos was his enemy. If he knew they were all coming after

46