Page 27 of Black Salt Queen

In the stands, Imeria’s hands balled into fists.Don’t you dare lose your calm,she wanted to scream. Luntok was stronger and more skilled than the Tanglaw boy, but Imeria knew his weakness: if Bato taunted him about Laya, Luntok wouldn’t just retaliate. Luntok would implode.

Bato drew out his sword, half turning to face the watching crowd. His taunt echoed up to the stands so the highborn spectators could hear. “First fight, Kulaw? Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”

Luntok barked out a laugh as the two young men began to circle each other on the platform. “Give me your worst, Tanglaw. Wouldn’t want to lie to Hara Duja about your valor when they’re done scraping you off the floor,” he called.

At Luntok’s remark, titters rippled through the crowd. Bato stiffened and raised his sword. Luntok followed suit. They stared at each other, any attempt at banter screeching to an abrupt halt.

“On my mark... Begin,” a deep voice boomed from somewhere in the pit, cutting across the rising cheers.

Bato made the first move. He lunged for Luntok, who dodged his sword easily, making the Tanglaw lose his balance.

Bato righted himself and attacked Luntok again. Luntok parried and made a swipe at Bato’s face. Bato leaped out of the way, but not before the tip of Luntok’s blade scraped his left cheek. Droplets of blood dripped down the side of his neck. The cut wasn’t deep, but it was all he needed to distract Bato.

Wiping the blood with the back of his hand, Bato raised his sword to attack from above. Stupid choice. Luntok knocked the blade to the side, using the opportunity to close in on him, then drove the hilt of his sword into his stomach.

The surrounding crowd roared as Bato doubled over, heaving. Luntok backed off and let Bato pull himself together. Up in the stands, Imeria allowed herself a smug smile. The court could spite the Kulaws as much as they liked. Luntok had honor in him after all, and the fight was only beginning.

Though Imeria was no warrior, she could not help but marvel at the fight. Her son was stronger and more muscular than Bato, yes, but Bato had a different fighting style. Where Luntok relied on overwhelming his opponents with animalistic ferocity and brute force, Bato practiced an evasive, serpentlike technique. Imeria had watched Bato compete in the tournament the previous year. He had made it to the later rounds because he’d tired his opponents out, managing to slip away from their attacks with surprising finesse; only when their arms were quaking from exhaustion, too weak to swing their swords, did he fight back with full force and knock them out of their misery.

But when Bato came at her son once more, Luntok made him abandon his usual tactics. Bato was forced to attack again and again until he was the one gasping for breath like a dying fish. Luntok fended off his advances with ease. It was when the fight in Bato’s eyes began to dull that Luntok moved to the offensive.

He went in, first with a steep angle strike that Bato used all his remaining strength to deflect. The plea for surrender was there on the tip of Bato’s tongue. Luntok had to coax it out of him. Farther and farther, Luntok advanced. He didn’t stop until he had Bato cornered at the edge of the platform.

Bato’s sword hand shook. A hush swept over the crowd. Imeria straightened in her seat.

“Do you yield?” Luntok asked. From up in the stands, Imeria could make out his cocky grin.

Bato glowered. A beat passed. Then his posture shifted. “You’re too late, you know,” he said.

“Late for what?” Luntok demanded.

“Dayang Laya,” Bato said, loud enough for the spectators to hear.

Luntok froze. Imeria’s stomach sank. She resisted the urge to run down from the stands and shake him.Next to you, Bato Tanglaw is an ugly, humorless asp. Don’t listen to him.

But Luntok had already taken the bait. “What about her?” he growled.

Bato leaned forward and lowered his voice. As she watched their conversation unfold, Imeria chewed her lip. She couldn’t hear Bato’s next words, but she saw fury spread across Luntok’s handsome features. He raised his sword and took a swing. He could hardly control his aim, and Bato was able to slip away. Imeria’s fingers clawed into the edge of her seat. She wanted to scream in outrage. He had allowed himself to get distracted. And he lost his biggest advantage.

Bato didn’t hold back. He moved in so fast, Luntok could barely react. Bato’s blade sliced through the air, sharp steel glinting in the sun. He feinted, tricking Luntok into a deep lunge. Then Bato swung his sword at Luntok’s exposed right arm.

Imeria gasped. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a dozen heads turn toward her. She ignored them and stared at her son. Blood dripped down Luntok’s bicep, pooling at the hilt of his sword. From a distance, the wound didn’t look fatal, but it was deeper than any injury Luntok had yet endured.

“Had enough, Kulaw?” Bato jeered.

Luntok threw himself at the other man with a snarl. This time, he attacked with every ounce of his strength. Bato couldn’t fend off Luntok for long?—not when her son was like this. Imeria stared at Luntok in awe. She had never seen him fight this way before. He moved in a trance, delivering blow after decisive blow. Bato’s arms shook from the sheer force of it.

Around the platform, the crowd grew louder and louder. Their energy invigorated Luntok. They were calling for blood, and he planned to give it to them.

Bato tried to recover from his shock, but Luntok ended the fight before he could. A final cut from below ripped Bato’s sword from his hands. It clattered to the rust-stained platform at their feet. As Bato scrambled to retrieve it, Luntok pressed his blade against Bato’s throat. The tip grazed the skin below his chin, close enough to draw blood.

Bato stared at him, dumbfounded. “Yield,” he whispered hoarsely. “I yield.”

No one dared move. Luntok kept his blade to Bato’s throat, chest heaving. Stunned silence filled the air. Not until Vikal jumped onto the platform and held Luntok’s arm in the air did he realize that he’d won the fight. From all four sides of the platform, the crowd exploded into cheers.

Imeria leaped to her feet, almost knocking the servant holding the parasol above her head to the ground. Her heart sang as she shrieked in triumph. She beamed at Luntok. She couldn’t tear her gaze from him.My son, my son, my son.

Nobles flooded to Imeria in the stands to congratulate her on Luntok’s win. She did not spare any of them a glance. She kept her eyes glued to Luntok, down on the platform. Vikal was still holding him up. Luntok blinked, wide-eyed, stunned speechless by his own victory.

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