Page 133 of Blood Fist
With every challenge Sevrin won, his supporters grew. But there was still a large faction that liked the alpha, but detested the deference he showed Ridan. They were older, followers of Thewn and his backward thinking. Frankly, it reminded Brune a lot of how the Kaldoneans treated omegas.
Which was something he was going to keep to himself, really. Despite the bloodstains on his clothes, he wasn’t a violent man. He had no intention of getting involved in petty squabbling between clans.
But when a loudmouthed alpha said, “That knot whore just needs a real alpha. Bet he’d look real pretty with my bite on his neck. Feisty ones like that always?—”
Brune didn’t even need his hammer. If Jonen and Niklas hadn’t been there, he’d have a nice pair of alpha fangs decorating his chest. Corric was there too, but he pointedly did not stop Brune and, in fact, had a pleased little smile on his face when Brune threw the alpha into a granite outcropping.
He’d like to say it got better from there, but when the Windy Cliff clan joined their ranks, things only got worse.
The additional warriors were a boon, and with them they brought the superior weapons the Windy Cliff was known for, but they also added to the discontent rippling through the mixed clans. Old grievances surfaced, and the tension added fuel to the fires of theirarguments. The clansmen were not afraid to get physical at the best of times, but now it was out of control.
Auhert, Ridan, Areine, and Sevrin were doing their best to broker peace, but even they had issues. Sevrin was willing to allow Ridan to lead, but Auhert had been chief longer than either of them. As not only an alpha, but the more experienced leader, he felt he should take point. But they were on Stone Blade land, and Ridan had been up against Kaldonea before. It was an argument that died down, only to roar back to life at the smallest of disagreements.
And Areine seemed content to let the other chiefs tear into each other without interference.
At least the chatter about Ridan died down after that first alpha. Apparently, Brune ripping a tree from the ground and threatening to run the man through was enough of a deterrent.
He sat back, watching Henroen run a whetstone over his axe as another feud broke out in front of him. They were too far away for Brune to hear the details, but a Windy Cliff beta stepped up to a Stone Blade alpha and it escalated into blows.
“This is ridiculous,” Brune groaned. “We’ll kill each other before Kaldonea even gets here.”
Henroen grunted, looking up to watch the fight with disinterest.
Osmond and Niklas ended up separating the two, which only led to them being accused of sticking their nose into clan business that didn’t involve them. When the beta tried to take a swipe at Niklas, Osmond broke his nose.
It made no sense to Brune. They were all here for a reason. They allwantedthe same thing. So why couldn’t they put this foolishness aside and focus on what was before them? Even Osmond, who was usuallyso levelheaded, was pulled into it. He, of all people, should know better.
The problem was that other than a few of the Stone Blade; they weren’t aware of how truly dangerous Kaldonea could be. They hadn’t seen the magic users at work. Hadn’t seen the aftereffects of Sinestrus. To them, he was still some legend their parents told them to get them to behave.
As far as Brune knew, the last time the clans had all worked together had been with Artrax. United under a cause most would have considered unwinnable. They’d been an unstoppable force. And now they needed to come together again to face that same enemy, but that cohesion was gone.
Osmond bared his teeth at the beta, ready to lunge, before Ridan shouldered his way through the crowd. He grabbed his lieutenant by the scruff, easily throwing the bigger alpha down. With a curse, he kicked the beta to the other side of the fire, eyes narrowing as he spat blood at Ridan’s boots.
“Enough!”he roared, his scent spiking so much Brune felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. “Are you nothing but pups fighting over sugared treats by the heat of the hearth?” he sneered, taking the time to look each of the warriors in the eye.
“Foolish me. I thought I was surrounded by warriors. Imagine my surprise to see a bunch of arguing children wearing the weapons of true warriors. Shall I call your dams to come cut your meat for you? To wrap you in blankets?” his voice was cruel, derision dripping from every syllable. Several of the larger alphas close to him snapped their jaws, but Ridan didn’t flinch, meeting their challenge with such intensity they had to submit.
Stepping away, he hopped up onto a low rock so hecould look down at them. Truthfully, he didn’t need the added height. Ridan was more than capable of looking down his nose at even the tallest warrior.
“Do you not know where we stand?” he raised his voice, allowing the echo to dissipate before speaking again. “We stand on Artrax’s Mountain. On the very dirt our ancestors gathered all those years ago. They stood huddled here after watching their homes destroyed, their land poisoned, and their children starved. They were beaten, fighting with broken swords and battered bodies.”
So intent on Ridan’s words, Brune stopped breathing.
“And yet they did not whimper. They did not turn away. They picked up their broken swords, staunched their wounds, and faced certain death with their heads held high.” He knocked a fist against his chest. “They might have been beaten. They might have been bloody. But they werenot defeated.”
Ridan had every last Clansman’s attention. Even the chiefs behind him were transfixed.
And that’s when it hit Brune.
The Clansmen of old weren’t any braver or smarter. They weren’t better than the clans gathered here today. They had Artrax. A leader. Someone they could believe in, flock to. Someone who could guide them to certain death and then back again.
Someone like Ridan.
“How dare you? Howdareyou stand where they stood and desecrate it with your petty arguments and long dead rivalries? How dare you defile their memory? Theirsacrifice.”
He let them stew in their guilt, allowing it to wash away all their indiscretions and selfish desires.
“They died for peace. So that we, their descendants, would not knowthe pain they knew. And now it is our turn. It is our honor to continue their legacy. To take up their mantle and fight.”