Page 10

TEN

“It’s starting. We are going to be late,” the female orc who had just purchased Amuleta’s final fried pie exclaimed.

Amuleta placed the pies in the small baggie and handed in to her.

The orc nodded and motioned for her friend.

“Come on. If we hurry, we should be able to get seats before they close the doors.”

Amuleta pocketed the coins the females had given her, and they scurried off.

All morning the talk had been about the gladiator trials.

It was said that orcs from everywhere in Aghon had come to participate in the event.

The market vendors were now starting to close up their tables so they could attend.

Amuleta glanced down at hers and saw that she had once again sold out of everything earlier than she would have expected.

Instead of heading home as she would normally do, she made the quick decision to go to the arena.

Magoza was sure to be there.

The trials would be important for her.

Magoza would not only be expected to enter the trials, but she would be judged by her placement.

If she were to come out as the victor over all of the orcs entering, then she would earn the respect of Aghon to follow in her father’s footsteps and take over as the next chiefess.

Even though Amuleta didn’t converse with many of the other vendors at the marketplace, her ears had been wide open listening to the chatter surrounding Magoza.

“Did ya hear that the winner of the trials would then travel to Solmane? They would represent Aghon in the Convergence Games. Some fancy prince is getting married, and they will have battles there,” an older orc remarked a few tables away.

“ Kraz , I heard. My money is on Magoza. Even though there are plenty of orcs who want to see the Cydassis fall, I have a feeling in my gut she’s going to win the trials,” his associate said.

She had stood frozen.

So even after Magoza won the trials here, she would have to go to the capital of Lunaterra to face more warriors?

For fun and games at the expense of a royal wedding?

Worry for Magoza grew inside Amuleta.

It had torn her apart to send the warrior away.

This had been the one person who had accepted her as she was, who didn’t care about her mixed heritage and had proclaimed that she would make Amuleta hers—and she had sent her away.

Amuleta was torn between honoring her father’s memories, her mother’s intuition, and following her heart.

It had been days since she’d last seen Magoza.

Had she changed her mind?

Had she come to her wits and realized that maybe Amuleta was not her true fated mate and she was just caught up in their moment in the woods?

That day had lived on repeat in her head.

At night, Amuleta woke up sweating, her body fully aroused with the memory of Magoza’s thick tongue sliding through her folds or her teeth teasing at her nipples.

Even just standing here remembering the feeling of her fingers sliding into Magoza had her breath catching.

She would never forget the heat in Magoza’s eyes as she’d gazed down at her while she’d given her strong warrior pleasure.

Was this part of feeling the pull to mate?

Amuleta figured she would never know the sensation of recognizing one’s mate.

Gelisha never had the pull or a sensing of knowing that Xagok was her mate.

Her father had been patient and waited for her to fall in love with him.

By pushing Magoza away, would Amuleta be missing out on her one chance for true love?

She swiftly gathered her few belongings from her table and threw them into her satchel.

She tossed the strap over her shoulder and took off through the streets of the town.

With the amount of travelers who had arrived for the trials, it was no wonder she had sold out of everything so quickly.

The streets of Udenia were filled with many different species.

Not only were orcs present, but she recognized Fae and felt their magic.

Humanoid people who were much taller and muscular than humans, who could only be shifters, prowled down the streets.

The way they moved gave off the hint that they were more than what they appeared.

She took in witches, goblins, and even some species she couldn’t put a name to.

There was an excitement in the air as they all made their way to the arena.

Warriors were posted on every corner.

She swallowed hard at seeing them in full force.

They stood on guard as if expecting trouble or to keep it away.

Amuleta wasn’t sure.

From what her father had taught her, large gatherings such as this would always bring trouble.

The chieftain would want to protect their town against enemies, and a great chief always had enemies.

Amuleta used her small form to her benefit and zipped through the crowd.

If ever there was an advantage to being smaller than most it would be now.

When the crowds were paused, she squeezed through and continued on.

The stone building came into view.

It was a grand elliptical structure that stood a couple of stories tall, built of stone.

She was quite familiar with this building.

When she was younger, her mother brought her here for them to catch a glimpse of her father as the warriors entertained the town with their mock battles or public displays of warrior training.

Amuleta arrived at the building and blended in with the thick crowd flowing into the entrance.

She was used to being either ignored or the center of attention.

At the moment, no one paid her any mind as she slipped through.

Security was tight here.

Guards with their weapons drawn stood at the entrance as well as inside the arena.

She glanced around and found the stairwell that would take her to the next level.

From the sounds in the air, the trials had already started.

Cheers and shouts went up.

She shoved her way past bodies and made it to the stairs.

She went up to the second floor and came out onto the platform.

All of the seats were taken.

She ignored the stares and whispers.

Her gaze was locked on the sight below.

She stood by the railing that gave her a perfect bird’s-eye view of the circular arena below.

Amuleta scanned the scene below and didn’t see any sign of Magoza.

Had she missed her fight?

The current one was brutal.

The two orcs that were battling carried broadswords that were probably taller than her.

She watched their battle in awe.

Neither of them wanted to lose and fought fiercely until one fell.

These fights used to be to the death, but that was banned over a century ago.

The smaller of the two tripped over something unseen which the more aggressive orc took advantage of.

He fell on top of him and pummeled him with his fist. Amuleta grimaced at the raw display of savagery.

She looked away, unable to watch.

The crowd grew into a frenzy as the victor stood.

She turned back and saw the larger one stalking around the arena with his arms outstretched.

The other rolled over onto his stomach, obviously injured.

It didn’t take long for the chieftain’s warriors to come and help the injured orc out of the arena.

The victor would advance.

Once both fighters had left the arena, an orc draped in a long red cape strode out to the center of the ring.

The crowd grew silent.

This must be the announcer coming to introduce the next fight.

Amuleta chewed on her bottom lip as worry set in.

After that brutal display, how could she witness Magoza participate in something like that?

Her mother had always shielded her away when it came to her father, but she herself never once glanced away when he was in the ring.

Could Amuleta be as brave as her mother?

“Udenia! What a display of bravery and honor!” the announcer shouted.

The crowd roared its response.

The bloodthirsty spectators were on their feet, shouting and screaming their excitement.

Amuleta gripped the stone railing underneath her palms. She glanced around and took in the amount of people who filled the stadium.

There were at least tens of thousands of bodies filling the arena to capacity.

“This next battle is one that you have all been waiting for. The visitor hails from the Dhogurd Clan of the village of Kelgi.”

Amuleta’s gaze snapped to the area of the arena the announcer pointed to.

Her mouth parted slightly to hear that someone from her father’s former clan was present.

It shouldn’t surprise her because the trials were for all clans that belonged to Aghon.

An orc who stood over seven foot tall, with broad shoulders, and a scowl came from the gate that lifted.

He was battle-hardened, with scars on his face, his dark hair kept short to his head, and one tusk was broken off.

There was a broadsword resting in his back scabbard.

He was definitely someone who Amuleta would not want to come across in a back alley or even on the street in broad daylight.

A shiver rippled through her at the sight of him.

He raised his arms and gave a roar.

“May I introduce Golub, son of Karguk of the Dhogurd Clan,” the announcer’s words echoed through the air.

Golub stalked toward the section where the chieftain and his mate sat.

Amuleta took in Tulak and his mate, Dura.

The highly respected couple stood in honor of the warrior.

They both gave a bow of their heads to acknowledge Golub who pounded his fist over his heart in respect.

He backed away and strode toward his gate.

The crowd remained on their feet.

The announcer gave a wide grin and a dramatic pause before he shared Golub’s opponent.

Amuleta grew nauseated, and her knees shook.

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Udenia, it gives me great pride to announce the next warrior. She is no stranger to battle and has commanded many warriors in the name of your chieftain. From the Nidani Clan, firstborn daughter of Tulak, I present to you—Magoza!” the male shouted.

The roar in the arena was deafening.

Amuleta locked on to the sight of Magoza striding out from underneath the rising gate of her entrance.

There was a scowl in place.

She was the epitome of war commander with her leather fighting pants and tunic.

On her waist were her twin axes.

Her dark hair was away from her face in an intricate design.

The crowd chanted her name.

Amuleta could barely hear herself think as the crowd showed their respect and admiration for the commander.

The ground trembled from the stomps of orcs’ feet.

Amuleta pressed her knees together.

The second she took in Magoza making her way to the center of the arena, she knew she would not be able to look away from the fight.

Something moved inside her.

She closed her eyes briefly and sent up a silent prayer to Nogora.

“Guide her, Goddess. Keep her safe. Protect her and bring her through,” Amuleta whispered.

A sense of peace settled in her as if the goddess were next to her.

Her eyes flickered open, and she took in Magoza standing in front of her parents.

The couple stood with pride and gazed down at their daughter.

Even from where Amuleta stood, she saw the love beaming from both of them.

Magoza did as Golub had and pounded on her chest above her heart.

The couple returned the same action and gave a nod to acknowledge her.

The moment the announcer disappeared from the arena, the fight began.

Golub may have been slightly taller and more muscular than Magoza, but it was the commander who was the calculating fighter.

Amuleta stood straight.

Golub advanced on Magoza.

They stalked around each other, sizing one another up.

They tested each other’s responses at first. Magoza only held one of her axes at the moment.

The crowd screamed and cheered on.

“Take him out, Commander!” a deep voice shouted behind Amuleta.

The crowd wanted blood while Amuleta wanted Magoza out of the ring and safe, but this was the life of the orc war commander.

One who had to fight to prove herself worthy to sit on the throne.

Amuleta bit her lip.

Golub swung his massive sword at Magoza who easily blocked his advance.

A lesser male would have crumpled under the force of his power, but Magoza spun around and snatched her second axe from her waist.

She advanced on him with both of them.

She swung them toward him, pushing him backward.

The male had apparently underestimated Magoza.

Tension sizzled through the air, everyone taking in the fight.

It started off light while they’d tested each other, but now it was growing more brutal.

The clang of Magoza’s axe connecting with Golub’s sword sliced through the air.

Golub snuck through and slammed his fist into her chest, sending her sliding back on her heels.

She didn’t fall, but instead a guttural growl sounded from the war commander.

Amuleta’s hand immediately went to her own chest as if she had felt the punch.

The skin underneath her touch was sensitive, and there was a slight ache.

Magoza strode forward as if the punch had unlocked a fury inside her.

She went in on the attack.

Her movements were fluid and like poetry.

Her axes flew through the air as she swung them.

Golub twisted away, avoiding her sharp weapons.

He spun around and swung his sword down in a swift motion.

Magoza threw up both of her axes to block his attack.

She kicked out her leg, sending the warrior down to the ground.

Amuleta’s hand flew her to mouth.

There was something magical about watching Magoza.

She was fast while the other warrior was bulky and slower.

Neither of them were willing to give up.

They traded blows with their weapons.

One of Magoza’s axes went flying and landed away from her.

A gasp went up from the crowd; she was now left with one weapon, but that didn’t faze the commander.

She crouched in a defensive stance and narrowed her gaze on Golub.

The larger warrior rushed toward her, and for the first time Amuleta sensed what her orc ancestors may have felt when they recognized their mates.

Fear.

Breath-snatching fear that she would never see Magoza again.

Never feel her touch.

Never hear her voice.

Or feel her lips on hers again.

Something inside Amuleta cracked.

Was Magoza truly her mate?

Amulet let out a cry at the sight of Golub’s body slamming into Magoza.

She had missed whatever had just happened but all she saw was him landing on top of Magoza.

Their weapons were on the ground some distance away from them.

They grappled on the ground, exchanging blows.

Magoza flipped them over, and in the same motion a blade appeared in her hand.

She pressed it against Golub’s throat.

He grew still. Magoza had turned the tables on him.

The crowd lost its mind.

The screams and cheers were thunderous.

The ground practically shook from the audience stomping and jumping around in their excitement.

“Do you yield?” Magoza snarled.

Both of the warriors were battered, bloodied, and bruised.

Magoza slammed her knee into his stomach and pressed the knife harder into this skin.

The crowd grew silent.

They all waited to hear if the warrior would yield.

Or would he try to fight back even with a blade digging into his neck?

Amuleta wasn’t sure if either of them would be physically able to continue.

They had been evenly matched, and it was apparent that fatigue had begun to take a toll on both of them.

“ Kraz ,” Golub replied.

Amuleta could have wept with joy.

She pushed off the wall and turned and ran down the stairs.

She had seen all she needed to see.