Tressa raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say a word.
The woman tossed her a crooked smile. “Ah, you’re a virgin, aren’t you? Don’t worry, Sheleigh will take good care of you. She specializes in first times.” She winked, then patted Tressa on the butt.
She stumbled ahead, berating herself for showing shock. Any young man would be thrilled with such a proposition. If she was going to pass for one, she’d have to play the part better. It didn’t end with the battle. Getting into the Black Guard was only the beginning.
A horn sounded in the distance. The door that Connor’s body disappeared into opened. Stacia stepped out, clad in the blue armor she’d worn the day Tressa, Bastian, and Connor met her outside the forest. Tressa wanted to elbow her way through the crowd of men, jump up on the stage, and kill Stacia in front of everyone. It would mean her death too, but the blood pounding in her veins didn’t care.
Forcing slow breaths, Tressa reined her desires in. It had to be done the right way. Carefully. When they were alone. Tressa wanted to tell Stacia exactly why she was about to die right before she ran the sword through her black heart. Then she needed to escape and make it back to Bastian. Her love. Free her people from the fog once it was safe for them to come out.
The plan didn’t involve a public killing or Tressa’s death in kind. Despite the rage, she had to control herself and let things unfold. One victory at a time.
Tressa turned back to the other men, studying them. Some seemed confident, strutting around as if they’d already won. Others were unsure and one man stood off to the side crying, his mother next to him with her arms folded under her ample bosom, a frown on her face.
He was only a child. No more than twelve. Why would a mother force her son to compete at such a young age?
Then she saw it. The wolf on the fabric tied to his shoulder. So this was his lot in life. His birthright led him to this. Tressa wanted to walk over and hug him. Let him know he wasn’t the only terrified competitor.
All of her urges went against what she was there to do. Her heart sank. Could she keep up the charade? Was there any chance she’d come out victorious?
Stacia raised her arms in the air. The crowd was immediately silenced.
“I see many fine men out there, all prepared to fight to the death to protect me, your queen. I bestow blessings on all of you.” A cruel smile spread across her face. “And those of you cowards who are injured, if you wish your lives to be spared, you best leave the arena quickly. There will be no mercy today!
“The rules are simple. The final twelve left standing inside the arena win. Everyone else can slink off in disgrace or die honorably in battle. It is your choice. Once you leave the inner ring, you cannot re-enter. Now, fight for your destiny!”
The horn blew louder, calling the men to the arena.
Swords whooshed out of their sheaths, clanging in the air. It didn’t take long before men dropped to the ground, felled by a well-placed blade. One young man dragged himself across the dirt, clawing desperately to make it to the outer ring where he would be safe. Before his finger could cross the line, a man with a lion sigil pierced him in the side. Blood sprayed in the air. He took one final breath, then his head fell to the ground, his eyes blank. It was the boy with the wolf on his arm that Tressa had seen crying not long ago.
Tressa held back the bile rising in her throat. Leo had tried to tell her, but nothing could have prepared her for the raw carnage. She hunched down, blew her hair out of her eyes, and entered the fray.
Chapter Forty-Two
The battle raged on. With the sun at its highest, the scent of sweat permeated the arena. Tressa wiped her forehead with her arm. The point of her sword in the ground, she leaned against her weapon, taking a breather.
The main throng of fighting was taking place on the other side of the circle. She watched them spar as if they had limitless energy. Most of the participants remaining bore the lion or the wolf, their dark reds and oranges standing out in the mass of men and steel.
Tressa had managed to avoid most of them. She’d concentrated on injuring the weak and letting them make it to the outside of the circle. Her fighting techniques looked inept. Thanks to Leo’s instruction in illusion, she didn’t appear to offer a threat to anyone. Yet when she was near a wolf or lion, she fought with everything she had, proving to them that she deserved a second glance.
Leo had explained the goal was to pick off the weak first. Get them out of the ring so the real battle could take place. Even though every man wanted a spot on the guard, he also knew that his fellow victors had to be the best of the best. No one wanted a coward to slip through to the end because he avoided most of the fight.