Belvedor and the Four Corners (Belvedor Saga Book 1) by Ashleigh Bello Page A

against the cold and the flat side of steel. Her boots hugged her ankles, also black, with gray fur lining to keep her toes from freezing. They had a thick one and a half inch heel to keep her steady and three small rusted silver clasps up the side to keep them tight on her feet.
    As per regulations, the protection of armor was a privilege not granted to slaves. The King reasoned it would create weakness where strength should live, but, today of all days, Arianna wished for mail across her chest.
    Her mind wondered over the accidental butcheries of Grinda’s previous opponents. She shuddered. One of her simple, black linen shirts would have to suffice. Slashed at her sleeves and stomach from old battles with Solomon, the shirt fit loose on her body. Every time she raised her arms, her belly showed. Stamped at the side of the shirt, the large emblem of the district glittered in red and gold.
    “Here we go,” she said as she slipped on her fingerless, black-leather gloves. She patted her thigh where her trusty dagger should be and sank at the empty feeling.
    “All ready for battle are we?” Solomon asked, coming around the corner. His mood seemed lighter than before.
    “Master Bell, I…” Arianna lowered her head, ashamed at the trouble she caused.
    “I know, child. I’m sorry for being so harsh with you,” he said, lifting her chin up high so she could see herself in the mirror. Her reflection split from the crack in the glass. She couldn’t see herself clearly. 
    The crest of the warrior mirrored behind her reflection, and Arianna stood tall against the backdrop, looking strong as a warrior. I am a slave. She felt weak and sallow on the inside.
    Solomon placed two hands on her shoulders and stared at her through the reflection. He began to issue the words of advice she yearned for all day long. “You are brave and you fight well, but, Arianna, you mustn’t let your guard down. Not for an instant. Do you understand?”
    She nodded, her bravery starting to return from the passion behind his words.
    “Grinda Risso is a fierce opponent to have. She has a pure disregard for her own life. She fights for blood with no fear or hesitation, so you must never give her a moment of weakness, or she’ll pray upon it until you’re at your knees.”
    Solomon handed her the double long-swords with the bronze handles, her favorites. She sheathed them across her back.
    “Now, you’re ready. Good luck,” he said as he headed towards the door. She could hear the wind pounding at the wood. “Master, wait,” said Arianna. “Will you watch?”
    “I’ll be around if you need me,” he said as he slipped out of the room.
    Arianna stood alone. Only thoughts of the bloody battle to come kept her company. Closing her eyes to relax, she felt a bit better after Solomon’s words, her motivation restored.
    Giving herself one last look in the mirror, she donned her red cloak and set off through the melting snow. The harsh wind swirled her hair about her face and knocked some of her bangs free, giving her a wilder look. She pulled the fur hood about her face, trying to stay as warm as possible.
    The sun neared invisible now behind the claws of Blancoren, and the crowd became denser as she approached the battleground, her nerves returning full-force. Just as twilight settled in, she entered the perimeter of the Square which was filled by what seemed to be every person, both slave and elder, who occupied the district. They layered on the old, stone stairs that encircled the amphitheater.
    Even General Ivo took his place on the raised platform along with the regulators. The Square provided space for the morning line-up, ceremony celebrations, and the annual Free Falls Festivals. However, on occasion, it hosted the fiery-hearted slaves who initiated a Warrior’s Challenge with one another.
    The general quite enjoyed the challenges as entertainment. He deemed it another act of ‘weeding out the weak’ as the King suggested. In fact,