“Do it. Do it fast!” Someone yelled in the distance, urging her.
She raised her sword in the air, then stabbed him hard in the thigh. With proper medical care, it wouldn’t kill him. “Get out of the ring.” She lowered her voice, attempting a growl.
He nodded and reached for his sword. Tressa turned, but a whistle in the air surprised her. She jumped into a roll, using her sword arm as a bar on the ground to break the fall. She stood, her sword at the ready.
The man on the ground had attempted to slash at her legs. Tressa slashed his other leg at the shin. There was no way he was walking now. “Save yourself and get out now.”
“I will not leave in dishonor.” His arms flailed, losing the stamina he needed to raise his sword.
“Then you will die a fool. It’s your choice.” Tressa spat at him, then stalked away. What would drive a man to prefer death over life? Another man ran past and skewered him in the stomach. Another senseless death.
After a quick count to fourteen, she realized she didn’t have any time left.
The fight was almost over. She was still alive. So were five lions, five wolves, two men of unknown origin, Tressa, and the man with the braided beard. One of the unknowns appeared weak. He stood trembling behind two of the other wolves. For all the brutality they’d shown, they were protecting the boy.
Why was his life more important than the other wolves who’d died, especially since he wasn’t one of their own?
Chapter Forty-Three
Tressa stepped carefully around the group of men. The wolves and lions had already decided who had won the honor of serving in Stacia’s personal guard. They stood in a circle, their backs to each other. Normally it was a move that invited death in battle. Never leave your back to an enemy. But today that was not a concern for they’d already won in their minds.
The man with the braided beard sidestepped over to Tressa, spinning his sword in one large hand. How could he smile at a time like this? Tressa wanted to punch in his pearly teeth. She held back. Not only was he a worthy fighter, but he could be her only ally.
“We’ve only got to take out two.” He laughed heartily, spit flying between his lips. “Then we’re in. You and me, boy.”
“Why not just kill me?” Tressa asked. She stayed light on her toes, fearful he might strike her at any moment. Perhaps it had all been a ruse to gain her trust so he could get closer.
“Today isn’t your day to die.” He pointed his sword toward a lion standing on the edge of the circle. The lion thrusted his hips, making vulgar gestures to a woman in the audience. “But it is his.”
The beads rattled, breaking the tense silence of the standoff, as her unlikely friend ran screaming toward the distracted lion. The men rallied around him, but it was too late. Her friend’s sword had already pierced his belly. He withdrew and sprinted back to Tressa.
Two men chased after him, the tips of their swords glinting in the brilliant sunlight. Clean. Not a trace of blood. Tressa’s stomach dropped. Neither of them had made a strike or a kill all day. They were fresh. Not exhausted like her.
“Run!” Braided man yelled at her.
A million thoughts raced through her mind. She could run. That’s all it would take. If one of them died, she’d be in. Her goal achieved. One step closer to avenging Connor’s death. She stumbled backward, leaving him to his death.
“Go, chouchou!” The man’s eyes were wild, light danced in them.
A hand flew to her mouth in horror. “Leo. Gods, no. Leo!” She reached a hand out, then did the unthinkable. She ran back into the fray.
The two men hacked and slashed at Leo. She thrust her sword into the storm of metal. Her block saved a sword from piercing Leo’s heart.
“Go!” He yelled again.
“No!” She begged, forgetting to disguise her voice.
The two men looked at her, their eyes wide. “A girl?” one of them asked.
“Great,” Leo said, rolling his eyes while blocking a half-hearted thrust from the shocked men. “Now we have to kill them both. Which one do you want?”
Tressa’s eyes narrowed. She took a step back, then attacked. She slashed at the surprised soldier’s wrists first, one at a time, leaving gashes in her sword’s wake. Then to the neck, shoulders, and stomach. Her sword left his innards followed by sucking sound.
The lion’s body crumpled to the ground, bloody intestines draped on his body.
A horn sounded, echoing through the arena. “Stop!”
She turned her attention back to Leo. He withdrew the sword from the other man’s throat. They’d killed both, but it was one too many. Now there were only eleven left. They’d violated the rules of the tournament.