“Why are you asking…” Oh no. “Have you been feeding me those burned-up-looking dragons?”
“Humans are so weak.” She shakes her head with disgust.
“No. Humans have taste buds. And those nasty charcoal-covered things taste like they look. Horrible.”
“Show some respect. I happened to like Renna. She told nice stories.”
I frown. “That meat you gave me had a name?”
“Doesn’t all food? You, for example?”
I guess she has a point.
She goes on, “It is like I said, Lake; these lands are filled with savage, hungry creatures. We love to hunt as much as we love to eat.”
“What do you like to eat? And no, I’m not taking a sip for that question. Tell me or don’t tell me.”
Uhrn smiles. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she’s actually delighted to be talking about herself. “Free-range Skins are my favorite meal. Their diets vary, giving their blood a certain richness. But it is tiring to hunt them down, so we keep a supply in cages outside.”
“I’m surprised the Skins supported Benicio when he took the throne.” That was what Alwar said—the Fliers and Skins were part of it.
“The king is smart and ruthless when it comes to politics. He offers favors and his influence, which is very enticing to groups who must constantly hunt and live on the lands of others in order to survive.”
Now I’m understanding. If you scratch my back, I’ll let you go eat as many of your neighbors as you like.
“Of course,” she says, “he must balance those favors with his vow as king to maintain order, and there are always disputes between kingdoms, even among his allies. He cannot tip the scales too far in any one direction or he will lose support.”
In a way, I almost sympathize with Benicio. It sounds like he’s constantly working to keep power and maintain order. Not an easy job. On the other hand, he’s evil as fuck. Yet I want him so badly that I don’t care. As long as he comes back to me…
“If he loses support, then what?” I ask.
She waits, and I roll my eyes.
“Fine. Sipping.” I’m running out of space in my stomach.
Uhrn shrugs. “In the past, it meant the king’s days were numbered. He would hold onto his seat for a while. Ultimately, challenges would be issued until someone’s proxy dethroned the king.”
“I’m the last proxy, and I’m not fighting anyone. So guess they’re all stuck with Benicio.” I like the idea of that. I want to be stuck with him, too. Never apart. My need always met.
“You are not the last proxy. You are the last proxy for the War People. Alwar may only enter a Norfolk into the Blood Battle. You are it. The other kingdoms selected weak human bloodlines, so their proxies died off years ago. All except one: the Wessfolks.”
“I don’t know what a Wessfolk is.”
“They are a human family like yours. Their bloodline is bound to the Blood People. And like the Norfolks, there is only a single Wessfolk alive. I believe he is a male, living in one of your big cities.”
So that’s why Benicio took me? There are only two proxies left in all the kingdoms. Benicio’s people have one, and the War People have the other: me. And if Benicio has me in his possession, Alwar can’t issue a challenge. Even if Alwar could, I wouldn’t fight. I’m too weak.
No, I’m too happy here. I want to be with Benicio. He must return to me soon.
My head mixes with thoughts of our time together. Naked. Touching. Kissing. His bites and my bliss. Somewhere in that mess of memories are questions, too. How is a proxy summoned to Monsterland when it’s time to fight? Does the other proxy know what he is? How and why did these families, like mine and the Wessfolks, agree to be gladiators for monsters?
My brain is scrambling with endless questions, but I can’t drink more of this stuff, and I need to rest. I’m tired now. My body is heavy and cold. I need my king.
There’s just one thing I have to know: “What happens when the proxies are all gone or there’s only one left?” Is it game over—one king stays in power forever?
Uhrn gives me a look, and I comply with a sip. “Last time.”
“A very good question,” she says. “A vow that is impossible to carry out becomes void. So I suppose all our kingdoms would be free to return to warring with each other for power.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It is not. In the dark ages, kingdoms formed alliances to prevent from being vulnerable. And, of course, the fiercest of kingdoms preemptively attacked their neighbors. Our world loves war almost as much as it loves eating each other.”
I might be pining for Benicio, longing for him to come to my bedchamber and take me away from all my worries, but I’m not stupid. All-out war can’t be good for my world. If that big-ass wall is all that stands between us and the monsters who hunger for us, how will the giants protect it when they’re busy dealing with monster dark age 2.0?