The man in Arfa’s seat was armoured head to toe in bronze, and his sword shone a stabbing silver.
Arfa entered, and he spat. “And they call you King?”
“With good reason.”
His bronze boot touched Uther’s worn blade. “Can you even lift Daddy’s sword, whelp?”
Arfa barely could, and said nothing.
He stood. “I will kill you, girl.”
Cai was fast, the knight was faster. Cai’s blade sheared in two, and a gauntlet punched him cold.
“But not here. We will duel in front of the Lords of Grass and Sea. When you fall, your lands will be mine.”
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