The Road to Bedlam: Courts of the Feyre, Book 2 by Mike Shevdon Page A

his shoulder, piercing it full through. His eyes widened as he slid forward on to the blade, carried by his own impetus. His heavy blade slipped from his hand and clanged on to the floor. He sagged, dragging my blade down with him, the grating slide on bone travelling down the springy metal to my hand. Blood welled around the cut and then ran down the angled blade in a red rivulet.
        "Well, don't just sit there man! Pull the blade!" It was Garvin.
        I drew the blade back with a soft sucking sound then whipped it out. The blood sprayed out in a long line across the floor and up the wall. I rose, ready to hold the blade in ritual victory at Fellstamp's throat, but his knees gave way.
        "Yield," he coughed, and he collapsed forward on to his face.
        "Idiot! You were supposed to scratch him, not try and kill him! Fionh, Amber, attend to Fellstamp." Garvin's instructions were crisp.
        "Will he be OK?"
        "You missed the heart, though not through any skill on your part. Sword." He held his hand out to me.
        I gave him the sword.
        "Kneel and bare your forearm."
        I knelt carefully down, watching as Amber and Fionh lifted Fellstamp into a sitting position so that they could apply pads to the wound. His face was grey with pain and his shirt was soaked red all down the front. There was a lot of blood.
        I did as I was bid and the blade flashed down, the line of red droplets staining the floor anew. I didn't feel the touch of the blade, but I knew Garvin well enough to know that it had cut. The blood welled from the line across my wrist.
        "Your blood is mixed with the blood of the Warders. Do you accept it?"
        I looked up into his stony calm.
        "Do you?" he repeated.
        "Yes."
        "Taste it," said Garvin.
        I put my lips around the cut, the thick sticky taste cloying my mouth.
        "By your blood, will you serve the will of the council until released of your service?" he asked.
        "I will." The metallic taste got stronger.
        "By your heart, will you hold the life of any member of the council above your own?"
        "I will." The blood made my tongue slow. It felt swollen.
        "By your mind, will you seek to preserve and protect your fellow Warders even at risk of your own life?"
        "I will." My heartbeat thumped in my chest.
        "By your power, will you keep the secrets of the council, even to your own death?"
        "I will." Red dripped from my wrist on to the floor.
        "Stand, Warder Alshirian, also called Dogstar, and bow to the other Warders."
        I stood, my knees unsteady, but bowed nevertheless. "What did we just do?"
        "You passed the test. You took the blood of a full Warder. From tonight you are on active service."
        "But I'm not ready." My protest echoed Fionh's.
        "No, you're not, especially after that performance. Tate, uniform, please."
        "You said we would accelerate the training, you didn't say anything about this."
        "I changed my mind."
        "Is this to keep me from Alex? Is that the reason?"
        "Alex is the least of my worries. We have other problems. Get dressed." He handed me the charcoal-grey uniform of the Warders, trousers, jacket, turtleneck shirt. The shirt was silk; you could feel it in the texture.
        He turned to Fellstamp. "Are you able to stand?" Fellstamp still looked grey.
        Fellstamp nodded, Fionh and Amber helping him up. "Nothing that a week of rest and good sex won't cure."
        Fionh assessed him. "If you have sex tonight it will kill you."
        "Yeah, but I'd die smiling." His grin was infectious, at least with Fionh. Amber didn't appear to find it funny.
        "Get him a clean shirt. Have you stopped the bleeding?"
        Fionh lifted the pad and inspected the wound. "Mostly. The puncture's clean, so it won't scar. We'll keep a pad on it for a few days."
        "Good.