“Not if you wanted any chance at a marriage with Rone,” Darrien said softly, his eyes glittering with hatred. “I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But what man would take you after what I’ve done? You could be carrying my child right now.”
His last words felt like a blow to her gut. She was with child, but not Darrien’s. Would Rone ever believe that now? “Darrien is trying to destroy my honor,” she said through her teeth. “To discredit me. Don’t believe him.”
The whole Council was looking at her now. She couldn’t miss the pity in their gazes, especially her own father’s, his guilt so strong she winced. Hadn’t Darrien warned her? Hadn’t he warned her that he would win? She glared at him, wishing she was a good enough aim to fling her knife into his gut.
“You are a poison! Everything you touch withers and dies.” She hated the tears that started down her cheeks, hated that she couldn’t stop them. They made her seem weak, vulnerable. She turned from Darrien to the Council. “Darrien threatened to dishonor me—he even tried once. That was the night I bashed him over the head with a rock and escaped.” She blinked hard at the memory, hot tears plunging down her face. She felt them trembling on her chin. “But he never succeeded. He enjoyed torturing me. He’s still enjoying it.”
They all looked away. Darrien’s story was winning. By the Balance, she’d fallen right into his trap.
Finally, Burdin took a long, deep breath. “This is a mess that won’t be sorted out without some kind of proof.” He blew the breath out. “What we know is there are Raiders, possibly coming down Shyle Pass.”
“Trickery of the Raiders or no, Undon should have come to the Council with his grievances against the Argons,” Wynn said, “not attacked them directly.”
Ressa ground her teeth. “For that alone, Undon must be stripped of his role as a clan chief.”
The other Council members nodded.
Undon shot to his feet and spread his palms on the long table. “Be warned, my clan is loyal to me, not to the Council. By unseating me, you risk the very discord the Raiders were trying to create.”
Everyone went silent. Ilyenna locked gazes with Ressa. They both understood that with the imminent threat from the Raiders, the Council couldn’t risk a civil war with its largest clan.
Burdin gestured for Undon to sit, and Ilyenna knew he was about to make his pronouncement. “The guilt for the many wrongs rests on more than one set of shoulders. For his grievous lack of judgment in attacking the Argon and Shyle clans, I remove Undon from his place as clan chief.
“For the damage to the Shyle and Argon lands, I hold the Tyran clan responsible and order reparation. For five years, a rotation of ten strong tiam clanmen will restore all damaged buildings and work at reestablishing the Shyle and Argon wealth. Undon and his son Darrien will be among those tiams.
“Clan Chief Burdin—” Undon began in a pleading tone.
“Silence!” Burdin roared. “The Tyrans will return everything taken—that includes Ilyenna and the other tiams. In addition, Clan Chief Otec and Rone will tally all the damage done and exact a price, to be paid in Tyran wheat and beer.
“Until we can determine Darrien’s involvement with the Raiders, I will appoint a steward to manage Tyran affairs. For his unforgiveable treatment of Ilyenna, I order one hundred lashes, to be delivered in groups of twenty-five at each clan feast. He will also pay Otec her bride price. But she will remain free to marry any man of her choosing.”
Ilyenna swallowed her sob. Darrien’s punishment wasn’t nearly enough. She felt as if part of her soul had been ripped away. No man would have her now, not when they thought Darrien had taken her to his bed.
Burdin rubbed his whiskered face. “As for the allegation of treachery, we cannot make a ruling before we collect evidence. If it is found to be true, both Undon and Darrien’s lives will be forfeit.” Burdin leaned back in his chair. “What say you, Rone, Otec?”
Ilyenna’s father shook his head. “You might not be able to take their lives without risking retaliation from the Tyrans. But I can. I’ve stated my claim. I want their heads. I demand a duel.”
Ressa slapped the table. “You’re an idiot!”
Ignoring her, Burdin pursed his lips, his beard bunching around his chin. “Don’t do this, Otec. Don’t risk yourself. Give the truth time.”
Her father shook his head. “There is no other way to restore the honor Undon has taken from me and my family. I will not agree to the terms unless it is done.”
Burdin sat in silence for a long time. He exchanged looks and words with the other Council members. Finally, they seemed to come to a consensus. “Tiams are taken so they might right the wrongs they have committed,” Burdin announced, “not to be abused and violated. I do not approve, but neither will I deny you.”
Rone jumped to his feet. “I was forced to serve as a tiam. During that time, I watched my fellow Argons and the Shyle beaten for no offense. The women were abused. By Darrien Tyran.” He turned to Darrien. “I claim the same right of a duel. Only I want Darrien’s head.”
Burdin hesitated. “And if you lose? What then?”
Rone trembled with rage. “I won’t.”
Burdin shook his head, a sad, tired expression on his face. “Very well. You’ll both have your chance.” He pushed himself back from the table and started toward the door. The other Council members followed slowly. Ilyenna stood rooted to the spot.
Ressa marched right up to her. “Is what Darrien said true?”
Ilyenna didn’t look at her. She was too busy watching Rone leave the room without so much as glancing at her. “No. Darrien tried, but he never actually violated me.”
Ressa grunted. “Conniving son of a whore.”
Ilyenna could no longer see Rone. “Where’re they going, Ressa?”
The woman looked past Ilyenna through the doorway as the Council moved up the streets to a barren knoll east of the village. “They go to fight to the death.”
Ilyenna swayed. Deep inside, she’d always known it would come to this. The room began to dim and tilt on its side. Ressa caught her arm. “Breathe, Ilyenna. Breathe!”
Ilyenna filled her lungs and the world steadied a bit. “I could lose them both—my father and Rone.”
Ressa frowned. “Yes, child,” she said softly. “You could lose them both.”
Ilyenna wanted to faint, wanted the blackness to take her and never release her. But she stayed abominably awake. She was marked. There was no other explanation for this madness, for the death and pain that followed her like a shadow.
Just beyond the village was an elevated cliff face.
“So that all might have a good view,” Ressa mocked.
Ilyenna’s mouth went dry. It all seemed so barbaric. Her father tossed his overshirt to the ground, his undershirt going with it. As a healer, Ilyenna understood. Men who wore clothing during battle stood a higher chance of fevers from their wounds.
The thought came unbidden. Ilyenna didn’t want to watch the fight, but she had to. These could be the last moments of her father’s life. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. Didn’t even dare blink.
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 t
hey 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.
Rone had taken first blood. Darrien didn’t seem to have noticed. Their axes tangled, and he threw his shoulder into Rone, making him stumble back. With their axes locked, Rone forced Darrien to either move with him or release his hold. Darrien fell forward, knocking Rone down with him. They rolled together, Rone on top first and then Darrien. Both men pushed against their axe handles, trying to gain the advantage.
Darrien spat in Rone’s eyes. For a half second, Rone wavered. Darrien twisted Rone’s axe out of his hands. It landed with a heavy thud, just out of reach. Rone grabbed Darrien’s axe handle, pushing it steadily away.
Darrien jerked it up and to the side, slamming the base into Rone’s temple. Rone’s arms went slack. He groaned.
“No,” Ilyenna gasped. She lurched forward. One of the men grabbed her collar. It dug into her throat.
Darrien reversed the momentum, and the axe bit into Rone’s ribs. Darrien pulled it free. With a wicked grin, he slowly stood. His back to Ilyenna, he drew his axe over his head.
With a tearing sound, she managed to jerk free. “Please, no!” She threw herself over Rone, shielding him.
Darrien stood over her, Rone’s blood dripping down his axe onto his face. Darrien hesitated, then slowly lowered his axe. “What will you give me?” he whispered, triumph in his eyes.
Ilyenna felt the second crack in her soul. “Whatever you want.” The words came easier than she’d expected. It was so easy to betray her clan and herself to save the man she loved.
Darrien looked behind her. She followed his gaze to see Burdin cautiously approaching. Darrien smiled softly. “Swear it.”
“I swear it.” Her voice broke.
He nodded. “It’s done then.” He freed his hands from his shield and reached toward her.