Age of Swords (The Legends of the First Empire #2)

“But what does she know about combat?” Nyphron asked. “How could she possibly—”

Moya smirked and stepped forward, addressing the Fhrey as bravely and boldly as always. “They didn’t just hand us the recipe, you know. Give us their most sacred traditions with a smile.” She stood leaning on Roan’s bow that, unstrung, looked like a thin staff. “We had to fight for it.”

“You? Fought?” Udgar chuckled. “What did you fight, little girl? Did you defeat the Dherg’s kittens?”

Moya smiled up at him. “What I killed would consider you a bug. Balgargarath was a hundred times scarier than your ugly ass.”

Udgar grinned at her. “You don’t think I’m scary?”

As casually as if she were courting, Moya flipped back a lock of hair. “After what we’ve seen? You’re a floppy-eared puppy.”

Udgar’s grin disappeared. “Enough. Do you think me such a fool? That I would be so easily tricked by this staged act. The deceit of the southern clans is legendary, but I see through your false claims. It’s time to fight.” Udgar glared at Raithe. “It’s time for the son of Coppersword to die.”

“What’s going on?” Persephone asked.

“The Gula-Rhunes picked their candidate for keenig. Now they want to decide the matter by combat. The winner will be keenig of all the clans,” Raithe told her.

“Why does everything need to be decided by fighting?” Persephone shouted.

“To see who is greater!” Udgar shouted. “To see who is worthy to lead. Now get out of the way and let men finish this.”

Udgar conferred with a group of other Gula, all big, all clad in fur. One held out a spear and shield to him.

“I’ll fight.” Raithe looked to the chieftains. “But it will be as champion for Persephone. If I win she is keenig, agreed?”

“Can you beat him?” Persephone asked quietly.

Raithe didn’t answer.

All around the courtyard, people became excited. The show they’d come to see was about to begin. Those nearby backed away. Those far away leaned forward, and the courtyard became a hum of whispers.

“Raithe? Can you?”

He looked at the sword and then into her eyes. “I don’t know. I didn’t think it was possible, but with this…” He looked to the sword. “Maybe with this I can.”

When Udgar turned back, Raithe stepped between him and Persephone.

“Well? Who will it be?” Udgar asked. “Do you accept the son of Coppersword as your champion? Or do you prefer to fight me yourself? Or maybe the pretty one with the big mouth.” He laughed wholeheartedly. “It doesn’t matter. Whoever I fight, I’ll kill, and then I’ll be keenig. Who do you choose? Who will face me?”

“Me,” Raithe declared.

“No. Not him,” Persephone replied quickly, moving out from behind.

Raithe spun to look at her. “Don’t be insane. He’ll kill you.”

“No, he won’t.”

Raithe was stern to the point of anger. He took her aside and whispered, “Udgar is probably the best warrior in all the clans. All the clans…Gula and Rhulyn both.”

“Better than you?”

Again, Raithe didn’t answer.

She squeezed his hand. “I don’t need you to act as my champion. I have a new Shield.”

“What? Who?”

Persephone pulled away from him and faced Udgar, who stood with shoulders back and chin up. His awful scarred face highlighted his self-important sneer. She looked to Moya, who nodded slightly. “If you must have a fight to decide this, Moya will act as my champion.” Persephone gestured in her Shield’s direction.

“The little girl with the mouth even bigger than her eyes?” Udgar looked at Moya, nodding with amusement. “Oh, I see. You think I won’t kill a pretty girl. That I will concede the fight and make you the keenig. You are wrong. I’ve killed many pretty girls. I accept this challenge.”

“Is that so?” Moya said.

“Wait!” Tekchin rushed to Moya’s side. The Fhrey had a vicious look on his face. “I’ll do it.” He peered at Udgar like a hungry mountain cat eyeing an abandoned baby. “I’ll fight in her place.”

Lipit turned to Tegan. “If I’d known there would be so many champion volunteers, I would have pushed harder to be keenig myself.”

“The Fhrey aren’t a part of this,” Udgar declared. “We are choosing a keenig. The killing of the Fhrey will come after.”

“Moya,” Tekchin pleaded, but she refused to look at him.

“This is insane,” Raithe told Persephone. “He’ll kill her. Moya will die.”

“And then the Gula-Rhunes will rule over all of us,” Lipit pointed out. “This isn’t just her life at stake.”

For most of the trip back, both inside Neith and on the ship, Persephone had watched Moya practice with the bow. On the boat, she’d refined her technique, tweaking Roan’s invention until she could repeatedly hit the forward stanchion from the rear of the hold. The ship was too small for any long-range exercises, but Udgar wouldn’t be that far away, and he was wider than a stanchion. Still, a wooden post wasn’t a man and Persephone looked to Moya for reassurance.

The woman leaned on the bow and offered that disarming smile of hers. Then Moya jerked her head at Udgar and silently mouthed the word puppy.

If she weren’t so genuinely concerned, Persephone might have laughed.

“If you truly believe that I should be keenig…” Persephone looked at Raithe. “If you think I can lead our people to defeat the Fhrey nation, then you must believe I can defeat a single Gula. I know you think it’s impossible. But you just said I proved the impossible is achievable. I’m asking you to believe that I know what I’m doing. Do you, Raithe? Do you truly believe what you so eloquently said? Do you believe in me?”

“But Moya—” Raithe said.

“Just answer the question. It’s a simple question.”

A long silence, and then…“Yes,” Raithe said.

She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t help leaking a little smile. Raithe was in love with her. He’d admitted as much on the beach and in Dahl Rhen, the first time he’d asked her to come away. He’d do anything to protect her. This one word proved more than his love; it proved he trusted her, even when reason told him he shouldn’t.

She looked at the other chieftains. “Well? Do you agree? Do you appoint me to represent the Rhulyn-Rhunes? Do you give me the authority to choose my champion? And if my champion prevails, will you accept me as the leader of all our clans?”

“Win this battle, and you will win my undying loyalty,” Tegan told her.

“Does that go for the rest of you as well?” she asked, and they nodded.

“It’s decided!” she shouted. “Moya will represent me in battle against Udgar for the position of keenig!”

The crowd came alive. Shouts of “Gula!” and “Udgar!” came from the small but loud fur-covered contingent. Shouts of “Rhulyn!” came from the rest. No one cheered Moya’s name.

Persephone walked to Moya as she bent the staff to string the bow. “Are you scared?”

Moya looked over her shoulder at Udgar, who was flexing his arms and cracking his neck. “Of him?” Moya said, sounding insulted.

Persephone watched Moya fit the string. Her hands were steady, her movements fluid.