30. To the Death
To the Death
Luka approached the dais with as much courage as he could muster.
The time had come for his huntress to put her skills to the test. She’d crawled into bed with him early in the morning, and they made love until she collapsed from exhaustion, which happened to be fifteen minutes later.
He held her close and brushed his fingers through her curls while whispering prayers of strength and protection.
He was in a melancholy mood at breakfast. He stared at her while she devoured her meal and spoke between bites as if it were the last time he’d experience her shameless gluttony.
She spoke of things in the future, such as going to her favorite tavern run by orcs and eating Belzara’s boar stew until she was as fat as a tick.
She discussed the design for her wedding dress and how she loved her crown, but would require an alternate one that was less ornate for daily use.
Luka remained silent as she entertained herself.
He understood that her nerves were why he couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
Hours later, they’d reached the town center, and the crowd took Luka by surprise.
All of Night Falls had to be in attendance, and he wouldn’t doubt if people from neighboring nations had also come to spectate the barbaric challenge.
Sadly, he knew that most were in favor of seeing Alaria Marquis as the victor and were quietly praying for his queen’s downfall.
Still, Matilda was a strong warrior who had received Ezra’s stamp of approval.
She had all the tools and wit to win—or so Luka chose to believe.
Luka waited until it was silent to address the crowd.
“Good evening, Night Falls. There is no use for me to stand here and give you a long-lasting speech. We all know why we are here. I, King Luka Alesi of Night Falls, intend to make Matilda Seraphina Helsing my bride and the future Queen of Night Falls.”
Boos of displeasure and jeering taunts erupted from the crowd.
Luka looked down on Matilda to gauge her reaction.
She stood proudly, like a peacock, with her chest puffed out and her arms by her side.
His eyes flicked to Alaria, who grinned, amused by the discontent echoing from the crowd.
She bathed in the discord, silently celebrating her victory.
Lawrence Marquis seemed equally impressed.
“The House of Marquis has evoked an ancient challenge to the queen’s throne, and Matilda Helsing has accepted the challenge.
These two capable women have agreed to fight to the death for the title of Queen of Night Falls.
Duchess Alaria Marquis, do you wish to renounce the challenge, forgoing becoming Queen of Night Falls? ”
“I will not forfeit to this nasty human!” Alaria snarled, pumping up her supporters and receiving hissing boos from the humans.
“Huntress Matilda Helsing, do you wish to renounce the challenge, forgoing becoming Queen of Night Falls?”
“I will not forfeit, my love,” she replied, sending the spectators and his heart into a frenzy.
For a moment, he considered snatching her up and flying away, leaving everything behind—his title, castle, and riches, but like Matilda, he cared for his kingdom and wouldn’t leave the citizens with such political instability.
Moonshire would have control of Night Falls before daybreak.
“Very well. Before we begin, I will remind you both that you may use any weapons during combat. If a participant withdraws, you must stop your attacks immediately. Failure to do so will result in the offending participant being put to death. Duchess Alaria Marquis, do you understand these rules that have been given unto you?”
“Yes, King Alesi.”
“Huntress Matilda Helsing, do you understand these rules that have been given unto you?”
“Yes, King Alesi.”
“Please enter the circle,” he instructed before stepping away. He sat with Ezra, said one last prayer, and stared at the combat circle surrounded by torches. The women paced the circle while waiting for the official signal.
“Remember to believe in her, Luka,” Ezra reminded him.
Luka nodded stiffly. “I believe in her.”
The battle horn sounded, and the women descended upon each other. Matilda’s spear clashed against Alaria’s sword defensively. Lightning-fast, Alaria drew back and attempted to behead Matilda with a fearsome battle cry. Matilda ducked in the nick of time, losing a few strands of her coily hair.
Emotions crawled up Ezra’s throat and lodged there when Luka grabbed his hand for comfort. He could tell a war was not only battling in front of their eyes but also within the fearful king. He wanted to protect his betrothed and felt powerless, forced to be a spectator.
Luka’s chest seized when Matilda was pushed back with a kick to her chest. The crowd cheered when she dropped to her knee and clutched her chest.
“Get up,” Luka growled, leaning forward.
Matilda deflected another blow with the shaft of the spear. She spun on her knee out of Alaria’s direct line of vision and stabbed her in the leg, earning a pained howl from her opponent. Matilda used the opening to bounce back to her feet.
The women circled each other again, daring the other to make a move. Matilda knew Alaria was angry, possibly embarrassed that she could draw blood. The last thing the duchess wanted was to seem weak and, to a human, no less.
Luka watched nervously from the dais as the women battled. The sound of clashing steel filled the air as they traded blows. After a few minutes, he noticed that Matilda’s strikes became sluggish and were delivered less precisely.
“She’s tiring out,” he whispered nervously to Ezra.
“She is. Matilda should finish her as soon as possible.”
A scream pierced the air, prompting Luka to his feet. “No!”
Ezra grabbed him and dragged him down to the platform before he made a grave mistake.
Alaria grinned at Matilda and slowly retracted the tip of the blade from her shoulder.
Blood flowed profusely from the huntress and spilled onto the dirt.
Alaria moved to kick Matilda in the stomach but was blocked with the spear, as she knew she would.
Swiftly, she swiped at Matilda’s neck with her blade.
Matilda jerked her head back and felt the sword’s tip slice the flesh of her neck. It was a minuscule cut, like one a man would receive from shaving, but that didn’t keep Alaria from celebrating her minor feat.
“I’ll be gracious. Do you wish to withdraw, huntress?” Alaria asked, gloating from above her.
Matilda panted, chest rising and falling from exertion. “No. I will not withdraw.”
“That’s too bad,” she said, raising the sword over her head. “For what it’s worth, you were a worthy opponent.” Matilda laughed. “Laugh all you want. I will have the last laugh when I sit on the throne and—”
Alaria cried out and dropped her sword when Matilda blew a red powdery substance into her face. Alaria clawed at her face. Her eyes felt like they were melting, and her skin bubbled. Matilda had her window and took it. She stood, swung her spear over her head, and decapitated her challenger.
The crowd fell silent as Alaria’s head bounced and rolled to the circle’s edge.
“It’s a shame what a little werewolf blood can do to you,” Matilda said to Alaria’s headless body before dropping to her knees and finally her back.
She stared at the stars in the sky until her lover’s face filled her vision.
She couldn’t hear what he said over the boisterous crowd, but she could read his lips.
You’re an idiot.
I love you.
Why didn’t you do that from the beginning?
I won’t let you die.
Matilda wasn’t dying. She could already feel their child bringing her strength back.
Luka leaned down and put his ear near Matilda’s lips when he noticed them moving softly. “Repeat that.”
He closed his eyes with a sigh and gathered his queen in his arms.
“What did she say?” Ezra asked.
“Boar stew,” Luka drawled.
“She cheated!” Lawrence Marquis yelled as he approached the two men. “I demand she be put to death!”
Luka passed Matilda to Ezra and faced the ill-tempered father. “Explain your position.”
“That-that witch poisoned my daughter!” Lawrence bellowed, pointing at Matilda.
“Last I was aware, poison is a weapon. Is it not?” Lawrence’s mouth opened and closed as he attempted to find the words. “Take what is left of your daughter, return to House Marquis, and give her a proper burial. I expect your attendance at the coronation and wedding with your customary gift.”
“I refuse! A curse to you, Disgraced King Alesi! This will not be the last of us!” Lawrence Marquis yelled before spitting on Luka’s boots and storming away.
“What shall we do?” Ezra asked, waiting for instructions.
“Send a team—gather the riches, burn their residences, and slaughter them all.”
“I already had a team dispatched at the off chance the challenge went awry. I will send the signal,” Ezra confirmed.
Luka smiled. “You, my friend, have earned yourself a raise. Let’s go to this tavern that Matilda loves so much. She has certainly earned her coveted boar stew.”