Four men crashed through the door tae my room and wordlessly grabbed me from bed, overpowered me when I struggled, and shoved me in front of Donnan.

“It’s your first trials today, boy. You should rise.”

“I am risen already, thanks.” The light burst upon me so brutally fast my eyes watered.

“Don your kilt. You fight in a few minutes.”

“Who? Why?”

“Your Uncle awaits. You stand between him and the throne. He wants to kill you before you take the throne. Your weapon of choice is a sword, I believe?”

“Aye.”

“There will be a sword at the arena.” He swept from the room.

I dressed in the bathroom. When I emerged the guards grabbed me by the arms, shoved me intae the hallway, and fell intae position around me forcin’ me down the hall. We traveled down five floors in an elevator, along another long passageway that seemed tae go underground, and finally, I was pushed through tae a small room with double doors at the opposite end.

The voice that was missin’ from my ear since I told it tae turn off last night said, “Magnus, get ready, the fight begins in three, two, one—”

The doors swung open ontae a cavernous arena, the biggest I had ever seen and I had tried tae watch a soccer game on the tv with Zach.

The sky was open, bright, hot, and the sky blue. I was grateful tae see it after many long days. The walls were flat and vertical and covered with movin’ images of people cheering and yelling and clapping. Tens of thousands of people. The sound pounded in my ears. A roar. Twas verra hard tae concentrate, but I had tae — a lone man stood at the far opposite end.

He was dark. We were similar in size and shape, fairly matched. He wore a helmet, a chest plate, and carried a sword.

He called across the way, “Suit up boy!”

To my right stood a sword, a helmet and a chest plate. I checked that he wasna movin’ but he seemed ready tae watch as I dressed in the gear.

I picked up the sword. It had a good weight and heft, but as soon as it was in m’hand the man charged, yellin’, his blade held high. The crowd was loud with cheering. He brought his sword down hard. I met it with my own swingin’ up toward him, meeting blade tae blade.

He swung again knockin’ my blade tae the side with the force of a seasoned fighter. “Ah, the usurper, come to take my crown? You fight like a child.”

The audience laughed, some faces were enlarged, while others were small, movin’ in and out, jeerin’ and laughing.

I sliced my sword up through the air forcin’ him tae take a step back.

I asked, “I daena believe we’ve met, who are ye?”

He spoke, loud and boisterously, as if performin’ for the audience. “I am your Uncle Tanrick. The true heir to the throne yet all I do these days is fight the sons of Donnan.”

I swung, meetin’ his blade with a loud clang. “Now see, I daena want your throne, Uncle. So you and I, we can just lay these swords down and maybe have a beer together.”

He thrust toward me his blade uncomfortably close tae my side.

I said, “I would much rather return home and ye could go about your business of fightin’ the other sons.” I lunged toward his arm. If I knocked his sword from his hand I might wrestle him down without killin’ him.

Tanrick paused and smiled. “The only way I am laying down my weapon is beside your corpse, Nephew.”

My breaths were fast. “Twas nae my intention tae be killed this morn.” I swung my sword but he swung to meet it and caught me off guard using my balance against me. I stumbled back while he charged.

His blade sliced down and bit into my left shoulder. “Nor I, yet one of us must die.”

I dropped to one knee with a groan. I used my sword tae lean on as I climbed tae my feet. “How many sons have ye fought?”

“I’ve killed three so far including you.”

He seemed to be catchin’ his breath so I took a moment tae size him up. He was comin’ from the high right each time. I needed tae guard there and move to his left.

“You haena killed me yet.”

“That’s because I’m taking my time, making it pretty for the audience.” He turned to the light-cast audience covering the walls around us. “Are you ready to see the son of Donnan die?”

The cheering was deafeningly loud.

He came at me with his sword swinging. I met it, blow for blow, our blades clanging and crashing against each other, gaining ground, then losin’ it. Forward and back trying tae find the weakness in each other—

He lunged.

I dodged the blade but nae enough, blood flowed from a gash on my right shoulder. His smile turned malevolent.

“You are bleeding from both arms now, smile for the people of the kingdom, Nephew, they like to watch the royals die.”

I leveled my gaze to his eyes. Focus, Magnus, focus. He means tae kill ye. Twould all be done then. I concentrated on his small shifts. He was tryin’ tae confuse me. I saw in a glint, a vibration, he meant tae come from the left.

I raised my sword and charged his right. He raised his blade and as I sliced toward him I spun and arced slicing across his ribs. He clutched his side. It wasna a mortal wound, yet painful enough.

We both paused tae catch our breath. I was strainin’ tae hold my sword.

He glanced down at the blood on his hand. “The people like a show, Nephew. You are weaker than the last though. He lasted twice as long before he had wounds like yours.”

My fury rose, a wave of hatred engulfed my body and aimed for his smug face. He deserved tae die. He had been killin’ my brothers, and meant tae kill me? Twas time for him tae go. “Thank ye for the vote of confidence. I wouldna count on being the victor though. I have come back from worse.”

He lifted his sword and we prowled around each other, both lookin’ for the weak spot, concentratin’ while we recouped our strength. Readyin’ for a final fatal blow. He lifted his sword and made the same move he had been makin’, arced down from the right. I dove tae my right and thrust — a cut deep intae him in the abdomen under his ribs. I was roarin’ at the time and shoved harder against him, my blade clean through until it wouldna continue.

His eyes met mine with so much hatred I couldna bear tae touch him anymore. I pushed him tae the ground and used my foot tae hold his body while I yanked my blade from him.

I looked around at the light-cast, shifting images of the roaring crowd. The sound was so loud I wanted tae drop my sword and cover my ears, but I dinna ken if the fight was over.

A man’s voice from near my ear said, “Say your full name, Magnus.”

“My name is Magnus Archibald Caelhin Campbell—”

“Louder, demand to be heard.”

I yelled, “My name is Magnus Archibald Caehlin Campbell!”

The crowd erupted into a new explosion of applause and cheering.

The voice said, “You are the heir to the throne of Donnan. Say it.”

“I am the heir tae the throne of Donnan!”

“Perfect.” The image of the audience slowly faded around me until they disappeared altogether, taking the racket with them. It grew quiet and still in the arena, just the heat of the sun bearing down on me, my ragged breaths, and Tanrick’s body at my feet.

I tossed my bloodied sword to the ground beside him.