Already shirtless, Undon checked the sharpness of his axe by brushing his thumb along the shining blade. A blade that could easily cut Ilyenna’s father in two. Feeling sick, she covered her mouth with her hand.
It seemed every man or woman at the spring feast had heard about the fight. They came in solemn droves. Once they arrived, they began a slow, steady stomp with their right foot. Thrum, thrum,thrum. Ilyenna could taste the dust in the air.
No one said a word. Her father and Undon glared at each other with death written in their features. Ilyenna shivered as she looked at her father. Was this really the same man who’d hugged her for the first time yesterday? He didn’t look the part of a killer. The wind ruffled his thinning gray hair. Already, a sheen of sweat glistened on a body that was still hard from work, but on which work and time had taken a toll. His skin sagged as if it had been made for a bigger man.
“Curse them all,” she heard Ressa murmur under her breath.
Yes. Men and their abominable pride, Ilyenna thought. The crowd shifted as someone came up behind her. She turned to see Rone beside her. “Darrien is lying,” she said through clenched teeth.
“I know,” Rone said.
She felt the heat from his skin. What if that warmth changed to cold—a cold she could never banish? “You had this planned all along.”
She sensed Rone’s gaze on her, like a caress. “I’ve always known, from the day my father died,” he said. “It’s only been reaffirmed every day since. It’s why I wouldn’t commit to marrying you.”
Agony filled Ilyenna’s soul, so much worse than any physical pain. “And if you die? What happens to me then?”
“You’ll be taken care of,” he said with certainty.
She sighed. By now, Rone should know better than to underestimate Darrien. He’d win this game, a game that wouldn’t be over for him until she’d lost everything. But she swallowed her protests. Rone would need every ounce of his focus. “You’re right,” she said softly. “I’ll be taken care of.”
“You understand?” he asked in relief.
No. How could anyone understand this madness? Ilyenna thought, but once again she bit back the words. “Of course.”
He took her hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “Don’t worry—I won’t lose. Neither will your father.”
Ilyenna wished she could believe it. But Darrien had snatched away her hope too many times. Her gaze shifted to Burdin as he came between Otec and Undon and raised both his hands over his head. The crowd hushed. “To first blood?” he said without hope.
“To the death,” her father corrected.
Burdin pursed his lips as if he wanted to argue, but then he yelled, “Then may victory follow justice!” He dropped his arms and rejoined the crowd.
Ilyenna’s father hefted his axe, testing the balance, and lifted his metal-studded wooden shield. Undon circled left. Her father mirrored the move, fury still smoldering in his gaze. They lunged at each other a few times, as if testing each other out. Then her father brought his axe in a high arch and lunged forward. Blocking the blow with his shield, Undon shoved her father’s axe away and swung level. Otec raised his shield to block, but Undon shifted so his axe skimmed across the shield and sliced clean into the flesh of her father’s upper arm.
First blood.
Ilyenna gasped in horror as her father staggered back, his axe hand going to his wound. He grimaced. Blood flowed freely between his fingers and ran down his arm. Undon took advantage, lunging this time with a much stronger strike.
Backing away, Ilyenna’s father lifted his shield with his wounded arm, though Ilyenna could tell his grip was weak. He barely managed to deflect Undon’s blow. Ilyenna bit her lip as Undon rained blow after blow on her father’s shield. Blood dripped steadily from Otec’s arm onto the ground. If he lost much more, he would have no strength to fight. Her father was losing.
She couldn’t let him die. Gripping her knife, she started forward. A hand seized her arm. “You have to let this happen.”
She turned to see Rone holding her, a solemn look on his face. She tried to break free, but he held her tight. Other men shot her warning looks. If she tried to interfere, she knew someone would stop her.
There was nothing she could do. Her father would die. Any of these men could stop it, but they wouldn’t. Her mind echoed what Ressa had said. Curse them all.
Undon swung for her father’s head. Otec blocked it with his shield, but the studs that held the shield together snapped, breaking it nearly in half. Her father managed to shove the axe away with enough force to make Undon stumble. Otec kicked Undon’s wrist and swung his axe for the man’s side.
Though he was off balance, Undon managed to draw back for a short, level chop. If her father wanted to avoid the blow, he needed to abandon his swing and twist away. Ilyenna thought she saw recognition flash through her father’s eyes. But he didn’t try to avoid the strike. Undon’s axe bit into her father’s hip with a sickening crunch.
Otec’s face screwed up in anguish, but he followed his swing through. His axe disappeared, buried in Undon’s fleshy side. Otec had sacrificed his hip for a killing strike.
Falling to the ground, Undon let out a scream that made Ilyenna cover her ears and cringe. But she couldn’t look away as her father clumsily wrestled his axe free of Undon’s spine. Undon clawed at the ground, fighting for escape. Otec drew his axe back again and brought it down on Undon’s neck, severing the head from the body.
The screaming stopped. Ilyenna thought she saw Undon’s eyes focus on her before they gradually went blank. She knew the sight would haunt her for the rest of her life.
She forced her eyes to shift from Undon’s lifeless face back to her father. He was alive, but blood flowed freely from his arm and hip. His face was gray and bleak. He threw his axe down as though sickened by it. With a grimace, he went to his knees.
Ilyenna could lose him yet. She shoved her way past the men and knelt next to her father, propping him up. “Father?”
He rested his weight on his good arm, breathing heavily. “I did what I could to avenge you, my girl.”
Tears ran down Ilyenna’s face. “I know you did, Father.”
Other clan mistresses arrived, pressing a cloth into Otec’s wounds and helping Ilyenna ease him to the ground.
Ressa gestured to Burdin. “We need to get him to the clan house. Now.”
With a word from the high chief, strong hands lifted her father and took him away. Stumbling to her feet, Ilyenna started after them. Ressa grabbed her arm and pushed her back. “I’ll take care of Otec. Another set of fool men still have to hack each other to pieces.”
Rone! How could she have forgotten him like that? She whirled toward the knoll. Already, weeping Tyran women had wrapped Undon’s body in a blanket of Tyran blue; blood blotted the top of it red. Ilyenna saw an unnatural lump on Undon’s chest. With a shudder, she realized it was his head.
“So passes a warrior,” one woman intoned.
“So passes a Tyran,” another answered.
Clanmen gripped Ilyenna, pulling her away from the bloody ground and back to the cluster of men and women. From the silence, the thrumming started again. Rone pulled his undershirt and tunic off. He looked so different from her father, his gleaming skin stretched over taut muscles. His body seemed to emanate youth and strength. It could all be gone in a moment.
She didn’t think she could go through this again. Her soul would shatter like glass—shatter and never be whole again. Ilyenna searched for something to hold onto. Something to keep her from falling apart. Then Varris was there, squeezing her hand reassuringly. She searched Ilyenna’s face and spoke over the sound of stomping feet. “You don’t have to watch.”
“Not watching would be worse,” Ilyenna said tightly.
To her ears, the stomping sounded like a death march. For one more man, it would be. She stared at the bloodstained ground under Darrien’s feet. Her gaze traveled up his hard body to his face. Rage twisted his features—rage aimed at Rone.
A new fury rose within Ilyenna. “Curse them all!”
As if in answer, Burdin stepped forward, his arms raised. The stomping ceased. “To first blood?” he said again.
“Please. Please, Rone. I beg you. Please,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “To the death!”
She felt a splinter in her soul, like the ice cracking under her feet all over again.
Burdin eyed Rone and Darrien. “You’re both young yet. No one else has to die today.”
Rone’s gaze shifted from Darrien to Burdin. “Step aside, High Chief.”
Burdin dropped his head and slowly backed away.
As soon as he was clear, Rone and Darrien lunged at each other. They exchanged a series of quick, hard strikes. Rone attacked first. Darrien recovered and pressed him back. With a sick feeling in her stomach, Ilyenna realized they were well matched. Winning could depend on luck or endurance.
She squeezed Varris’s hand harder. “Please,” she heard herself whisper, “if there’s any justice for the living, let the dead take Darrien.”
As she watched, Rone slipped through Darrien’s guard, his axe swinging diagonally from his left shoulder. Darrien jumped back, his shield barely managing to deflect Rone’s blow, but Rone’s axe grazed his cheek.