Page 29 of Blood Fist

“When you lose,” Ridan spat, walking closer with his sword raised defensively. His arm shook under the weight. “Your army will retreat and never return. Stone Blade land is ours, decreed by Artrax’s sacrifice. You will no longer desecrate it with your foul presence.”

General Bargrave stared, slack jawed, as if he couldn’t believe the audacity of the warrior in front of him. He shoved Chief Restrina to the ground, ignoring her yelp of pain. Stepping around her, he lifted his own sword.

“And if you lose, I take you back to my harem.” He leered. “Where I will show you who you should truly worship.”

On the hill, two more horses appeared. Brune couldn’t make out much more than two figures dismounting and running. One screamed, “Ridan!” before the big man from the parley the night before, the one with the battle ax and mustache, grabbed them both. He held them tightly, refusing to let them get to their friend.

The blonde omega didn’t turn to look. Nor did he react when Chief Restrina heaved herself up and screamed for him.

He lifted his chin. “Fine.”

General Bargrave charged the blonde. Swinging his sword overhead, it slammed down onto Ridan’s blade with a toe-curling bang. The smaller man’s arms shook as he two fisted his sword, pressing back on General Bargrave’s obvious strength. The next few blows went like that, Bargrave trying to use his superior size to push Ridan back. Refusing to give quarter, it was all Ridancould do to keep from falling. If he did, the contest would be lost.

The one advantage Ridan had on General Bargrave was stamina. He hadn’t just fought a battle. Ridan seemed to be waiting, much like his mother had, timing the bigger alpha out until one of his swings was just a little slower.

Ridan parried the blow, skating by on quick feet to slash at Bargrave. He was quick enough, but his aim was off. The sword was clearly heavier than he was used to. The blade dipped and nicked Bargrave in the hip rather than the killing blow he’d been going for.

Bargrave roared in pain, seething at the feel of fresh blood seeping down his leg. He redoubled his efforts, hacking and slashing at the quick omega. Ridan danced back, barely deflecting the large blade until he saw an opening. Catching Bargrave’s blade on a backhand swing, Ridan went low. His smaller size saw him throwing himself at Bargrave’s legs, swinging inside his thigh. The blade was true, opening another laceration on the alpha.

Their fight turned into a flurry of hits—Ridan barely managing to stay on his feet while Bargrave’s swings slowed. He was heaving, lips frothy with spittle.

“Get back here you rat!” Bargrave screamed, lunging for the omega.

Ridan saw the grab and twisted, avoiding it but walking right into Bargrave’s hilt. He punched Ridan in the face, knocking the omega to the ground. Landing on his back, Ridan rolled just in time to dodge a blade to his ribs.

The blade buried deep into the dirt, jarring the big alpha’s hands loose. Ridan spat blood and took his chance, kicking him in the knee. It sent Bargrave to the ground where the fight was more even. Ridan hissed as he tackledBargrave, small omegan fangs digging into the soft flesh of his unprotected throat.

He clung to Bargrave through several blows until one peeled him off, taking a chunk of flesh with him. Baring his bloody fangs, Ridan used the hit to push him toward his weapon. He spun to turn on Bargrave, who was busy holding his bloody neck.

Ridan hissed, charging the unarmed alpha.

Brune wasn’t breathing. So engrossed in the fight, his body seemed too distracted to even care. Perhaps that was why he saw when no one else did.

With his free hand, Bargrave made a gesture to the commander closest to him. The man didn’t hesitate, drawing his weapon to attack Ridan from behind.

Brune didn’t think about the challenge. He didn’t think about Bargrave’s dishonor. He didn’t think about anything.He just moved.

Turning to the upended cart, he swung his sword at the closest wheel’s axle. The cheap steel shattered, taking the wheel with it. Discarding his useless sword, he picked up the wheel and ran.

Where his speed came from, Brune would never know. He hit his knees, lifting the wheel up to take the blow meant for Ridan’s back.

The commander’s sword embedded itself into the spokes, chunks of wood hitting Brune in the face. Shock colored the man’s face as Brune yanked the cracked wood back, dislodging the sword from the commander’s grip. Without bothering to loosen it, he swung the wheel into the man.

Before he hit the ground, everything seemed to slow down.

Osmond ran forward, grabbing a gravely wounded Chief Restrina. The rest of the Clansmen chargedforward, screaming with renewed vigor as they again took up arms.

“Traitor!” Folsom screamed, running at Brune. He blinked, lifting his broken wheel to defend himself from Folsom’s sword, when an arrow sprouted from his ribs.

He didn’t need to look to know that Niklas had just saved his life.

Turning, he saw Ridan standing over General Bargrave, his sword embedded in his chest. The young omega was screaming at the sky, head thrown back as blood dripped down his bare chest. His scream rallied the Clansmen as they flocked to his side.

For a second, the blonde turned, and his eyes caught Brune’s. They shared a look before the crash of bodies cut them off.

Brune picked up a dropped sword and began fighting. This time as a traitor.

CHAPTER SEVEN