Chapter 8
Torgrin’s eyes roamed over my smiling face. Did he see anything familiar in my adult features now that we stood so close? Even without his scars, I would know him anywhere.
‘The master swordmaker is also a master swordsman,’ he murmured.
‘Swordswoman!’ corrected Atlas with a massive grin. He stood on Torgrin’s left, watching us closely.
Ugly Giant bent down, his sour breath hot against my ear as he spoke, his voice low and grating. ‘I’m still going to rip you apart, little girly, but I’ll make sure that sweet pussy of yours stays intact so I can visit you tonight and wreck it with my sword.’
My smile faded. I couldn’t tell how much Torgrin and Atlas had heard, but they weren’t smiling anymore. Not that Torgrin ever smiled.
‘That’s going to be difficult to do when I cut off your tiny sword,’ I hissed back, annoyed that he had ruined a glorious moment.
Atlas roared with laughter, and I swear I saw the corner of Torgrin’s mouth lift.
He leaned close and whispered, ‘Don’t die.’
My eyes flicked to his in surprise. ‘Is that a command, Captain?’
‘Yes,’ he growled, his eyes narrowing and lips twitching. He strolled away, leaving me standing alone with his ugliest and biggest soldier.
I felt elated that I was not being taken to a dungeon somewhere for being a woman in armour or for being one of the Cursed. The exhaustion I had felt moments ago was gone, anticipation coursing through my body.
As I faced Ugly Giant, I noted where Torgrin and Atlas had placed the weapons. They had observed my strengths and had placed my preferred weapons behind my opponent.
Behind Ugly Giant was a bow and spear, and furthest away was a sword. Behind me were two knives and a shield. Furthest away from the ugly giant was a mace. It didn’t surprise me that a brutal weapon like the mace was his weapon of choice.
Trying to get past his hulking form to get the sword or bow was pointless. Could I count on what I knew so far about his fighting style? I doubted he would use the weapons behind him. Instead, he would go straight to the most brutal weapon in the arena: the mace.
The shield and knives behind me were my closest option. I needed to be fast because if I was wrong and he ran for the bow behind him, I could end up with an arrow in my back.
Torgrin’s deep tones rang across the arena. ‘Engage!’
Running, hopeful that I would be faster than Ugly Giant, I sprinted towards the item closest to me, the shield. The sound of pounding feet was soon right behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see his long legs eating up the distance between us.
I was wrong about him going for the mace. A solid wall crashed into my back and I hit the dirt with a painful grunt.
‘I’ve got you, girly.’
He made the mistake of putting his face close to the back of my head.
My hands went under me, and I pushed up with all my might, slamming my head into his sneering face.
His nose met the back of my head, and I heard the sound of crunching bone.
He rolled off me and cackled as his mangled nose spurted blood down his face.
Pushing to my feet, I braced myself for his retaliation.
‘I like it when they fight back,’ he said before charging me.
My attempt to sidestep him failed, and he caught me in a headlock.
He had my head tucked tightly under his putrid armpit, forcing me to look down at our feet.
I didn’t wait for him to get a death hold – I pushed my arm through his locked arms before he could strangle me.
The heel of my palm now under his chin, I pushed his face away, creating space for myself and putting him off balance.
I knew this wouldn’t break his hold, but I made sure he couldn’t squeeze my neck any tighter. Staying calm, I shuffled around until Ugly Giant’s enormous back was pressed to my armoured front.
Iain had trained me to escape common hand-to-hand combat holds.
He taught me that a headlock was difficult to break, but not impossible.
The key was to use your opponent’s weight against them, and the best way to do that was to get them off balance and take their legs out from beneath them.
The bigger they were, the harder they fell.
In one quick movement, I hooked my leg around his, sending him to the ground with me.
His arms broke their hold around my neck, and before he could recover, I got out from under him and grabbed his meaty arm in my powerful grip.
I twisted it, forcing him to turn to save the joint.
He was now stomach down on the ground with me standing above him, holding his twisted arm behind him. My hold would keep him immobilised.
‘You bitch!’ he screamed into the dirt.
‘Don’t call me that,’ I retorted.
I put my boot in the middle of his back for leverage and twisted his arm up with all my might until I heard a loud pop. This time, he didn’t laugh.
I scrambled away from him and started running while he howled in pain behind me.
The crowd was cheering and calling to me. Perhaps everyone thought I had lost when he got me in that headlock? It would take more than a headlock to force me to concede.
When I reached the shield, I took the risk of losing time to mark his position. He was already running for the mace, his arm dangling uselessly at his side.
I was only feet away from the knives when I heard him behind me once again.
Turning just in time to raise the shield, I blocked the first blow.
The move saved me, but the impact of the mace broke the shield right down the middle.
I threw the useless splintered wood away.
Before he had time to swing the mace again, I snatched up a knife and flicked my wrist, watching as it buried itself in his face.
I had aimed for the only place he wasn’t armoured.
It was astonishing. It did absolutely nothing to slow him down. The knife was protruding out of his face, right beside his mangled nose as he moved towards me.
There was nothing I could do when the mace struck me in the chest, breaking ribs. I fell to the ground with the mace embedded in my breastplate. I lay on my back and looked up to see Lord Warwick’s balcony above me. Atlas and Torgrin were there, and they weren’t looking at their soldier.
Both captains leaned over the rail, yelling words I couldn’t hear over the crowd’s excitement. I felt my broken ribs with every painful gasp. My eyes eventually focused on Torgrin’s mouth. It could’ve been the pain or the exhaustion, but I thought I saw him say, ‘Survive, no matter what.’
The sound of running water reached me through the darkness. Pain radiated through my skull; it stabbed at me, making me nauseous. I couldn’t prevent a moan of pain from slipping out.
Gentle fingers brushed my face as I became aware that I was lying on someone’s warm lap.
‘You hit her too hard, Atlas.’
‘You said hit the girl, so I hit her! Next time you want to make someone unconscious, you do it,’ Atlas grumbled.
Who gently cradled my head and stroked my hair soothingly? I opened my eyes to see Torgrin’s frowning face.
‘Are you okay?’ he whispered. His eyes were dark as onyx, framed with long, spiky lashes.
He had a well-sculpted mouth for a boy, but somehow, it sat well with all his sharp, youthful angles.
I reached up to trace the fern-shaped scar on his brow and cheek.
He didn’t move from my touch and continued to stare back at me as if he were memorising my features.
‘What’s your name?’ he asked, letting me explore his face with my fingertips.
My hand was wrapped in a bloody bandage, and something pulled at my memory. My name? What was my name? Why can’t I remember? My heart rate sped up as if my body remembered something my mind didn’t. I looked at my bandaged hand and tried to clench it.
Sore.
Sore, like my head. I explored the large lump on my crown with my fingertips.
Then it came to me all at once. Mother’s dead stare. The sword in her back. The man who tortured her. His spine-chilling eyes, cold like ice, slicing into my very soul.
Grief broke over me like a wave, and tears spilled hot and relentless as my sorrow grew too heavy to bear. Torgrin held me and soothed me with words and gentle touches. I cried quietly until I lost consciousness again.
Someone shook me awake, hurting my head.
‘You must wake up! Now!’
The beautiful, scarred boy forced me out of that peaceful darkness, and I lashed out at him.
‘Yes, hit me and get up! He’s found us, and you must go now!’ He dragged me to my feet, but I was dizzy and would have fallen if he wasn’t still holding me.
‘She can’t walk!’
‘Tor, put her in the river!’
‘She could drown, Atlas!’
‘Better that than letting him get his hands on her.’
‘I can’t …’ Tor paused.
Angry shouting came closer, and I looked at him in fear.
‘Tor, she’s so small, and in his mood, he will tear her apart. Let the river take her instead. At least she’ll have a chance,’ Atlas reasoned.
Torgrin’s expression was one of deep anguish. I didn’t want to go into the rushing crimson water in the dark, but I knew I couldn’t walk, and I sure didn’t want to be torn to pieces by anyone.
‘Put me in the river,’ I told him.
He shook his head. ‘You will drown,’ he growled at me.
‘I’m a good swimmer,’ I lied. I saw several enormous figures emerging from the trees. ‘Help me to the edge. I can get in on my own.’
Torgrin hesitated for a second, then half-carried me down the bank, coming to a halt on the river stones. The water was moving fast at this point in the river. I swallowed my fear and stepped away from him on unsteady legs.
‘Wait!’ Torgrin shouted.
He gripped my arm, looking down into my eyes. ‘Do whatever it takes to survive. No matter who or what gets in your way, survive!’ His words seemed eerily familiar, like a forgotten dream. He tugged on my arm painfully when I didn’t respond.
‘Do you hear me? Survive, no matter what!’