Chapter 12 The Festival #5
Suddenly, he understood why Ridan looked so tired. Not only was he navigating the meeting for the first time, but he was also busy defending his strength. Something that shouldn’t be in question at all.
He slung his arm around Ridan’s neck, drawing the omega in. “Forget dusty old alphas and watch the fights. Watching someone cry will make you feel better.”
Ridan stared at him from under his thick arm, but didn’t push him off. A small smile ghosted along his lips.
They watched a few fights, Brune leaning close to hear Ridan’s commentary.
While the omega usually kept to himself, he couldn’t help but point out his observations.
Ridan saw things Brune never would have.
It helped that he stayed beside Brune, so close they were practically touching.
Brune had to physically bite down on his tongue to keep from chuffing.
An omega from Stone Blade hopped into the ring.
Her blonde ringlets were pulled back off her face with a leather band.
She was tall and willowy, lean, wearing nothing but a soft pair of linen pants and a leather band across her breasts.
Brune didn’t recognize her, but she certainly recognized their little group.
Her eyes widened the moment she saw them.
Straightening her shoulders, she slipped a woven necklace off and strode toward them. Stopping on the other side of the fence, she knuckled her chest in reverence to Ridan before turning her attention to Jonen.
His eyes widened when she slipped the necklace over the post closest to him. It dangled at chest level, catching in the breeze. Brune just barely caught her scent before it was taken over by something ugly and angry. He nearly wheezed, flinching away from the icy scent of anger coming off Corric.
Turning to Ridan, he was about to question him when he saw the look of pure glee on his face.
“What’s going on?” he whispered, instinctively going quiet around an enraged omega.
“She just propositioned Jonen,” Ridan answered smugly. “She’s telling him that she’s interested in him, and that the next fight will be for him.”
Brune couldn’t figure out why that made Ridan so happy, but then he saw Corric climb up over the fence. He landed lightly on the ringside to a chorus of hoots and hollers, shoving the previous competitor aside without even looking at her. He was busy glaring at the necklace—and a terrified Jonen.
“Do you know her?”
“Yes,” Jonen answered grimly, his face so pale he looked sick. “I helped her and her family with their crops last season.”
Ridan stepped out from under Brune’s arm, getting closer to the fence. Putting two fingers in his mouth, he whistled with the crowd. Brune couldn’t be sure why, but they seemed more excited to see the two omegas fighting than the previous fights.
“It’s a good fight,” Ridan explained. “Evenly matched. Plus, everyone loves a fight with drama.”
He watched the two opponents size each other up. Corric might be a little taller, but the other omega wasn’t small by any means. She was well muscled and looked confident. They weren’t using weapons, so there would be no advantage there.
“She looks strong,” Brune pointed out.
“Yeah,” Ridan agreed with a feral sneer. “But Corric’s pissed.”
Brune didn’t think Ridan should openly cheer for one member of his clan over the other, but he didn’t seem to think so. He freely shouted Corric’s name as they finally engaged.
He was right: the fight was fair. But Corric was angry. Brune had never seen the omega so vicious. He always seemed to fight calmly, his face a mask of serenity. Today, he was snarling, baring his omegan fangs anytime she got close.
Corric attacked first, going for her throat.
She tried to bat him off, but he used his body weight to throw them to the ground.
The first blood was Corric’s fangs ripping into her arm.
Her cry echoed around the ring, but she didn’t give up, grappling with him until they were both back on their feet ready to repeat it.
Using his natural grace, Corric dodged several of her hits, stepping back until he was nearly against the fence, then he used her natural momentum to swing behind her and kick. She sprawled into the fence, striking her face on the wooden post.
“He’s fucking with her,” Ridan said with a shake of his head. “Could have had her in three moves.”
Even to Brune it was painfully obvious Corric wasn’t just trying to beat her, he was trying to shame her.
He played with her until she was bleeding in several places, arms braced in the dirt and entire body shaking. To her credit, she tried to get up, but Corric placed a boot on her back and shoved her down until she was spitting sand and blood.
Snarling, he snapped at her neck. A killing blow, if he’d been trying.
The stench of territorial omega had many of the alphas in the audience squirming, and the omegas baring their throats.
Without missing a beat, Corric strode over to the necklace she’d hung and ripped it, sending beads and threads flying.
He returned what was left of it by shoving it into her bloody mouth.
Jonen’s eyes were so dilated there was only a sliver of brown left. He was panting, mouth open and fangs dropped as he watched Corric climb back over the fence. His black tea scent was excited, aroused, and he was doing nothing to hide it.
Corric glanced over at him, coolly wiping blood from his hands before shouldering past him, head up. Several alphas watched him go with interest. Jonen growled at them as he followed the taller omega.
“Well,” Ridan said, crossing his arms. “Can’t say I didn’t see that coming.”
Brune raised his eyebrow. “Corric just laid claim to Jonen.”
“He did that a long time ago,” Ridan said, looking back over his shoulder to see some of the she omega’s friends helping her from the ring. “She was foolish enough to try anyway.”
“He didn’t have to hurt her,” Brune pointed out, thinking that just beating her would have been enough.
Ridan snarled, grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him down to his height. “She’s lucky Corric didn’t kill her for daring to come after his alpha.” His eyes were flinty, sending a shiver down Brune’s spine. “I’d have beaten her to death with her own kneecaps.”
Looking into Ridan’s eyes, Brune understood Jonen’s confusing mix of fear and arousal.
And they said omegas were the weak ones…
Ridan released him, straightened his shirt, and then gestured to the market. “C’mon Foreigner, I’m hungry.”
They followed their noses to a nice beta couple selling seasoned meat on a stick. Ridan told him it was venison, and that made Brune sad. He loved the deer. But then he tasted it and decided he could appreciate the whole deer.
Ridan knew many of the sellers, even the ones from other clans, and accepted their kind words about his mother with a terse grunt. Brune was content to follow him.
Merchants from the Strong Leg clan had all sorts of beautiful gems he’d never seen before.
Their tables glittered in the late day sun.
They looked expensive, and Brune was afraid to look for too long.
Colorful bolts of cloth came from the Iron Jaw clan, shades Brune had only seen painted in the sky during a summer sunset brought to life in the soft fabrics.
He hoped Oosa would come by and see them.
She would create something glorious from them.
But it was a seller from Windy Cliff that made him pause. His metal work rivaled that of Derry’s. He had an array of things spread out on a dark fur.
“Can I interest you in a fine bracelet, sir?” the seller called to him, picking up a lovely bracelet made of twisted wire until it resembled a flower and vines wrapping around the wrist. “This would be the perfect courting gift for your special omega.”
Brune felt his face heat at the insinuation. The man was glancing between him and Ridan—who was luckily standing out of earshot, examining a pelt in another shop. Brune tried to straighten his tongue out so he could correct the poor mistaken seller when his eyes caught on something in the back.
Laid against what looked like the man’s sleeping roll was a hammer.
Twice the size of Derry’s forge hammer, the hilt was made of burnished wood, lacquered over with a black stain so that it depended on where the sun was hitting to discern the true color.
The head of the hammer was flat and smooth, back tapering into a lethal point.
Unlike the jewelry and other metal craft, there was no refinement or filigree on the hammer. It was simple. Understated, letting its lethality speak for itself. Brune’s fingers twitched, desperate to wrap around the hilt. To feel the grooves that he just knew would fit perfectly.
“Ah.” The seller noticed Brune’s attention.
“A fine eye, sir, a fine eye.” He trundled to the back and hefted the hammer, spinning it so it was hilt first. Brune licked his lips, hesitating for a moment.
His fingers slipped around the shaft, slipping into the grooves the craftsman had ground into it.
The weight settled perfectly, pulling on his muscles in just the right way.
Stepping back, Brune gave it a few test swings. It sang through the air.
“Windy Cliff metal doesn’t break,” Ridan said from a couple of steps away. His arms were crossed, an unreadable expression on his face.
“It’s—” he began, but Ridan cut him off, looking over his shoulder at the merchant.
“He’ll give you a Snap Jaw pelt, four teeth, and a fox fur.”
The merchant dropped his attention from Brune to Ridan, beginning to haggle.
He knew he should step in—it was his purchase, after all—but he couldn’t stop touching the hammer.
Running his fingers over the smooth wood and hefty metal.
He couldn’t even see the joins, as if the hammer was made from one piece.
Their voices raised, neither willing to back down. Perhaps it was a good thing Brune wasn’t the one haggling—he would have paid the man anything he asked.
They finally settled on a price Brune thought was more than fair. It was most of what he’d brought to trade, but it was well worth it. With a proper weapon, he could do more. Perhaps even win some coin in a fight.
He settled the hammer in his belt as they walked away. Ridan’s shoulders were hunched. “I’m sorry,” he grumbled, biting his cheeks. “Shouldn’t have stepped in on your trade.”
That surprised Brune. “Why? You clearly know more than I do, and you got a great price.”
Ridan stopped walking; chin tipped up so he could look at Brune’s face. “You’re not offended?”
“By getting a good deal? I’m foreign, not dumb, Ridan.”
That seemed to mollify the blonde. He looked away, shifting on his feet. He seemed confused, but his scent was light. Pleased. The murmur of the crowd was loud—sellers calling out, haggling, and food cooking—but he thought he heard Ridan purring.
Ridan looked almost as surprised as he was.
Stepping back, he twisted his face as he got ready to shout something when the sound of screams cut through the crowd.
The screams grew louder and louder, coming from the opposite direction of the fighting ring.
Brune drew his new hammer, ready to sling the shield off his back when he heard the loud whoosh of flames crawling up a tent.
It crashed in front of them; the flames hopping to the next one. The crowd turned, churning against them as parents screamed for their kids and warriors looked around in confusion. Had a hearth caught?
Ridan pulled his sword just as another tent went up a good distance from the first. An explosion followed, sending shrapnel across the market.
This was no hearth accident.
Through the gathering smoke sticking thick in his throat, he saw a lone figure with his hands outstretched. Fire leapt from his palms as he readied to throw it at them.