Page 128 of What Fury Brings
The slice nearly drove her to the ground.
“You talk too much,” the king said. “Were you mine, I’d have beaten some manners into you.”
“Were I yours, I would have killed you long ago. It’s a wonder Brutus has tolerated your tyranny this long. I think it’s time we changed that.”
The punch came so quickly, she couldn’t so much as turn her head.
She tasted blood in her mouth. Her skin felt tight. The world blurred for the beat of a second.
She needed to move faster!
And then Atalius’s sword went deep into her side, and she lost her footing, falling to her knees.
Olerra grunted in pain as the king drew his weapon from her flesh. She placed the point of her own weapon on the ground to keep herself from toppling over. She hoped the blade hadn’t nicked anything important. Not that it mattered. It hurt so bad she might as well be dying.
Atalius circled her, hands raised, letting the shouts of his troops cry up into the air. Building the anticipation even more. He knew he had her. He knew he’d won.
“Tell me,” Olerra shouted to be heard over the noise. “Why did it take you two months to figure out where your heir had gone?” Each breath was fire. She used her free hand to staunch the bleeding at her side. She kept her eyes on the king as he circled like a rabid dog. “I told you exactly what I wanted. A son for your life. Yet still you didn’t suspect me. Why?”
The king didn’t answer. He twisted his head from one side to the next, as though looking for the perfect angle for the killing blow.
“Admit it,” she said. “You know your sons hate you. Sanos running away seemed far more likely, didn’t it?”
Still the king said nothing. He flicked her blood from his sword, preparing it for the final strike.
“That’s why you had to wait until my cousin approached with the truth.” Olerra made sure her voice was nice and loud so those up on the wall could hear. “What I couldn’t figure out at first was what she was doing in your country in the first place. It was her idea to form an alliance, yes? You’re too proud and stupid to come up with something like that on your own. What did she promise you? My life if you helped her take the throne? Did she say she would let your soldiers within the gates to fight against the women under my command? Is that why part of your forces are on the other side of the city? She promised there would be someone to let them in? She did try. My troops are just better. I got the truth of it. Admit it, Atalius, you can’t do anything without a strong woman guiding you.”
Atalius charged her. He used two hands to bring down his massive sword against where she was kneeling in the dirt. Olerra raised her own weapon at the last moment and pushed her muscles to the limit, catching the blow.
They were locked in a battle of strength. As the king pushed, the blades rested against her helmet. The force of Olerra’s entire body kept her upright.
“I came up with the idea,” Atalius spat at her. “She wanted an alliance, but I set forth the terms. Clearly you Amarrans are all the same. Incapable of doing the simplest of tasks. But I don’t need your cousin or you to take this stupid country out from under you. And I certainly don’t need anyone’s help to killyou.”
Atalius kicked her, and Olerra rolled and rolled away from the king and his sword.
With the distance, Olerra looked up at her queen.
Lemya’s smile was large. She nodded. To her guard, she said, “Arrest Glenaerys for conspiring with our enemies.”
Olerra watched with satisfaction as women in scarlet armor surrounded both Glen and her mother. Olerra had done it.
But, gods, she hurt. Fire ripped across her skin, and the deep wound in her side throbbed and seeped blood, but she wasn’t done yet.
Olerra stood and tossed aside her sword.
“It’s too late to yield,” Atalius said as he approached.
“I yield nothing,” she said.
And then she drew her whipblade.
27
Sanos was exhausted from the effort of holding still. He’d watched Olerra take injury after injury and borne it. Now that she’d revealed her cousin’s treachery, she looked different. Radiant. Victorious. Even though the fight was ongoing.
“You’ve been an admirable opponent, Olerra of Amarra,” his father said calmly. “But I shan’t miss you.”
“The feeling is mutual, Atalius, but I would hardly call you admirable.”
