Chapter 16
We waited nearly a half hour before the portcullis lifted and the great doors opened. Dulanzo led the way, of course, bringing nearly the entire warband out to greet us. They spread out, surrounding us in a large circle, as was protocol for such challenges. As was the placement of hostages. At the back of the company, nearest the doors was Oz with a small child in her arms. But it was just one child.
Just one of the three that were still breathing when we left that spring.
Just one!
Ozanna was pale, her face set in the angry mask she would hide behind. I could feel the near panic in her stomach ... vulnerability, shame in it … and the terror she felt for the boy in her arms, for me, for all of us.
Fucking Dulanzo!
My vision tunneled on my eldest brother and the desire … no, the need to kill him coursed through my veins like venom. I longed to dig my fingers into the flesh of his throat, to squeeze until the blood poured down my arm. I needed to hear wet air bubble up between my fingers as they broke through his windpipe and the ripping of sinew when I tore it all out of his throat. Would his tongue remain behind to loll out of the hole? Would he be able to scream, or would he gurgle and drown in his own fluids?
Irnon’s fucking gift shrieked within me and stripped away the last of my good sense. In a few heartbeats I was as empty and hollow as the damned goddess herself. Rage, fear, love, guilt, reason … it was gone.
All that was left was the certainty of death, mine or Dulanzo’s. It no longer mattered.
Emma’s blessing thump-thumped.
The duel matters. We have to win this or it’s all for naught.
Dulanzo’s white teeth flashed through the wide grin spread across his smarmy fucking face. “Lhoris,” he boomed. “Is that any way to greet family?”
I said nothing.
Dulanzo heaved a heavy sigh, apparently disappointed by my indifference.
He strut towards us like a peacock, chin raised and chest out in self-exaltation. As though posture alone was enough to win the battle. But that’s how it always was with these people. It was all about appearance. The appearance of power, of authority. And as long as there was someone beneath them to tremble in fear, they would have it. I wouldn’t allow him that. Not anymore.
I glanced at Lobikno when he came back to my side. He was locked away behind his anger, but the telling absence of his two older boys made sense of his episode by the spring.
Dulanzo gestured for Zelfek to approach. “Now that my second has joined us, we can discuss terms,” he said.
“I challenge you to a duel of swords, no magic.” I spoke the words I’d practiced in my head over and over since deciding my course, but they felt distant and sounded hollow to my ears. “My demands are simple; the freedom of my mate, Lobikno’s offspring, Lobikno, and myself. That we and any we associate with remain harassment-free by you, your forces, or any proxy.”
“Easy enough.” Dulanzo rolled his eyes. “I’ll accept the terms with one amendment; you may not submit, little brother.”
I’d never assumed submission would be an option for me in this fight. “Fine,” I answered.
He turned to Zelfek, “See that those terms are met if this child somehow manages to kill me.”
Zelfek gave him a curt nod.
Lobikno rolled his eyes.
Dulanzo turned to wink at Oz. She spat on the ground. “Your mate,” he said quietly and smirked, “she is something. I haven’t had a fighter to break in decades. I was going to keep you around to witness this one, but you had the nerve to challenge me instead of getting caught.” He spoke the final few words with a snarl.
The noise around me faded away, overwhelmed by the thundering of my heart. Irnon’s gift was howling for death, and it was done waiting. Its claws dug into my ribs, warning of the pain to come if I didn’t act soon. I clenched my jaw and shifted my weight, preparing to spring forward. duel be damned.
Dulanzo nattered on. “Come to think of it, my last little pet mysteriously died in your care, didn’t she? I suppose it’s just as well you won’t have the opportunity to put Ozanna out of her misery.”
“Lhoris.” Lobikno’s voice was quiet and cautious. “Don’t. We talked about this.” And then I felt his aura brush against mine—something I didn’t think he knew how to do—a steadying reminder that Dulanzo was attempting to goad me into doing something stupid.
Dulanzo sneered at Lobikno and clucked his tongue. “How distasteful. Did you lose all your manners while you were away, Lobikno?”
I took a deep breath though it felt like the creature in my chest was expanding, preparing to explode. “Quit stalling, Dulanzo,” I roared and drew my sword—its weight in my hand a promise of imminent violence that appeased the churning beast within.
Dulanzo sneered and drew his own blade.
Lobikno and Zelfek started to step back, but Zelfek pulled his saber and pointed it at Lobikno. “Come on, Lobikno. We haven’t tested each other in ages.”
There was nothing against Zelfek’s casual challenge in Irnon’s bloodthirsty dueling laws. As long as they didn’t interfere with our fight, it was an excellent way to keep Lobikno too busy to steal Oz and the child away.
“Because we’re boring sparring partners, fuckwit,” Lobikno complained in a drawl. “It’s always a stalemate.” But Lobikno unsheathed his saber and stood at the ready, his posture one of spiteful indolence, as was Zelfek’s.
Lobikno bared his teeth in an annoyed grimace before lunging at Zelfek. He couldn’t turn down the challenge any more than Dulanzo could turn down mine. He’d be disgraced in front of a crowd of vicious predators. The metaphorical blood in the water could potentially end with a knife in his back before my duel was over.
Dulanzo and I circled for a moment, exchanged and parried a few strikes, the familiar motions and sharp clang of metal honing my focus—settling the heart-pain I’d been struggling against since they stole Oz away.
We gauged distances, our feet testing the terrain. Then Dulanzo swept in, slashing, and I parried, leaving a gash on his upper arm in riposte. Grinning, I followed with a kick to his knee, but he was already shifting to evade and took the blow to his shin instead. We circled for a moment more and his next attack whooshed by my head as I deflected and dodged.
Dulanzo seemed slower than I recalled, his feet not moving as lightly as they ought to, his balance slightly off. It lacked his usual finesse. Was he trying to lull me into a false sense of his skill? Baiting the maddened animal within me to act foolishly?
I chose not to act upon the apparent insight.
He attempted a feint, to trick me into exposing my side, but I slapped it aside with the flat of my blade and turned out of his path. I lunged when the follow-through left him exposed instead, sinking the tip of my sword into his pectoral before he could step back. It was enough to confirm my instinct about his speed. He growled a curse under his breath and a contemptuous flick of his wrist caught me under the forearm, leaving a vicious cut in his wake.
I pushed the pace with a fierce grin and left him panting, retreating more than advancing. Each thrust, every deflection and crash of metal driving the tempo of our bloody dance.
Dulanzo’s eyes flashed with rage. He narrowly missed hitting me in the jaw with a pommel strike, the cold metal just grazing my flesh. I snarled in return, grabbing the collar of his leathers and yanking him off balance. He didn’t fall but stumbled.
I bared my teeth and lunged before he could recover.
And that’s when a brilliant strobe of red light burst into existence at the tip of my nose. My vision went red. I pushed through to finish the strike, consumed by bloodlust, but my blade met no resistance. There was only a sharp pain in my chest. Incredible, breath stealing pain. I could do nothing. I couldn’t cry out. I couldn’t speak. My vision returned in time to see Dulanzo draw his sword from my ribs, coated red. Blood poured from the wound and the chill night air closed in around me, seeping in and replacing the warmth as it drained down the front of my leathers.
I fell to my knees and heard Ozanna roaring my name as the world went dark.