Page 104 of Warlords, Witches & Wolves

By the third round, they were down to three pairs and Turgen announced the matches.

“Dagar and Gan!” he called.

Shuree stopped listening. This was not a good match. Her concern was mirrored on Amar’s face. She found Dagar in the line-up and his look of satisfaction added to her worry.

She turned to Turgen. “We should change the pairs,” she said. “Gan hates Dagar.”

Turgen laughed. “They’re always the best matches.” He patted her arm. “You’ll see.”

Before she could insist, he banged on the drum. Dagar and Gan circled each other as the crowd shouted. Neither seemed to notice the noise, their focus on their opponent, waiting for their move.

Finally Gan lunged forward, one hand finding Dagar’s waistband and the other grasping his upper arm. They grappled, grunting, and moved in a circle, each trying to get the upper hand. Dagar twisted out of Gan’s grasp and came at him from a different direction, managing to lift him, but Gan shifted his weight and stopped himself from being thrown.

Shuree’s heart thudded as they went at each other again, the slap of their skin making her wince.

Then, as before, Dagar shifted and Gan was thrown onto the ground—the match was over. Shuree sighed as Dagar held out a hand to help Gan up. Gan ignored it, reaching into his pocket and then lunged at Dagar. Something glistened in the sunlight.

“Knife!” Shuree yelled.

Dagar jumped back, narrowly being missed by the blade. Turgen roared, “Drop it!”

Gan ignored him and continued forward, slashing the knife towards Dagar. No one in the crowd moved.

Gan had gone too far this time. Shuree strode into the ring. “Gan, drop the knife immediately.”

“You can’t save your lover,” Gan snarled. “He needs to die.”

“Shuree, stay back,” Dagar said.

She would not. She had to stop Gan from hurting Dagar.

“Stop it, Gan.” Amar stepped forward out of the crowd.

“You’re as weak as your sister,” Gan spat. “Neither of you has any ability to lead.”

Hurt and anger crossed Amar’s face and he lunged at Gan’s back, tackling him to the ground.

Gan roared in fury as Dagar joined the fray, blocking Shuree’s view so she couldn’t see what was happening.

Suddenly Amar yelled in pain and then a bloodied knife flew from the tangle of bodies.

Shuree flinched as Dagar pinned Gan, and Amar lay there, blood pouring from a wound in his stomach. Fear froze her. She couldn’t lose another brother.

Turgen strode forward to help Dagar restrain Gan and Shuree ran to Amar’s side.

“I need a healer.” She placed her hand over the wound and Amar groaned.

“Gan stabbed me.” The disbelief in his tone was clear.

“Did it go deep?”

“I don’t think so.”

Hot relief swept over her. A healer joined them, looked at the wound and said, “Let’s get him into a tent.”

Shuree helped him to his feet. She wanted to go with her brother, make sure he was all right, but as khan she had to deal with Gan.

He was still struggling in Turgen’s arms and icy cold fury filled her, every muscle in her body tightening ready for attack.

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