Page 3 of Empire of Death
“Dad has told me multiple times how skilled a fighter you are. That you’re a military strategist who is fit to be a general. That you’re an adversary he wouldn’t want to meet across the battlefield. I need you.”
“If I’m such a great fighter and a strategist, then why didn’t he pick me?” he snapped. “When you bowed out, he came back to me, but the second you were an option, he dropped me again like I burned his hands. You know how much that hurts? To always be the second option?”
A wave of pity disturbed the ocean in my heart.
He turned to look at me, eyes red-hot with Dad’s temper. “It really fucking hurts.”
“I’m sorry, Hawk.”
“A ruler is more than a good swordsman,” Wrath said. “A ruler is wise and selfless and merciful and savage.”
Hawk gave a slight shake of his head. “You know you have my sword and my shield and whatever else you’ll need for what’s to come. You know I’d lay down my life for yours. It just…pisses me off. And now, Dad might not live, and I’ll never get the chance to tell him off.”
“You might never see him again, and all you want is to yell at him?” I asked incredulously.
Hawk wouldn’t look at me.
“Fight him.”
I turned back to Wrath.
He remained where he stood in the corner.
My eyebrows rose as I questioned what he said.
“Victor takes the crown. That’ll humble him into submission.”
I couldn’t respond like I normally could. I wished I could talk to him in my head the way I did with Zehemoth. My father had always complimented my brother’s fighting abilities, and I had witnessed his strength with my own eyes. Not only was he strong, but he moved faster than his bulkiness should allow. But with Wrath’s immense strength contained inside my small body, I knew I could defeat my brother. “I challenge you to a duel. Winner takes the crown.”
There was a noticeable flinch in Hawk’s body before he turned to look at me, eyebrows scrunched like he couldn’t believe what I’d said.
“And the loser accepts the outcome with no contestations.” My arm rested on the armrest as I stretched it out to him to shake his hand.
He eyed it for a moment, the glint of hope in his eyes, a chance to take what he believed should have been his. He saw it as an opportunity to prove his worthiness, and I saw it as an opportunity to show him why Father had championed me since we were kids. He reached out and took it. “No contestations.”
We donned our armor and grabbed our blades before we met in the courtyard.
Wrath walked at my side, the ghost that no one could see, the wind in my cape and the eyes in the back of my head.
“You can’t help me with this,” I said as I looked ahead, seeing Hawk waiting for me in the clearing between the benches and the red geranium flowers in the terra-cotta pots. “Needs to be fair.”
“My strength is a gift that I’ve given to the woman in my heart. I will not take it back.”
A flush moved through me that left a trail of goose bumps behind. “I meant you can’t give me pointers. Tell me how and when he’s coming for me. Can’t be the eyes in the back of my head in this case, can’t narrate the fight for my advantage.”
Wrath gave no protest, only nodded. “You don’t need it anyway,Xivin.”
I approached Hawk where he waited for me, in the full armor that represented our military and bore our family crest. He wielded a two-handed blade that was visible over one of his muscular shoulders.
This felt like a waste of time considering the current state of our kingdom, but I needed to settle this dispute once and for all, to earn my brother’s dedication the way I’d earned my father’s. My father had ruled with respect rather than fear, and I wanted to do the same.
I unsheathed my blade and took my stance.
He did the same, a silent standoff ensuing, my brother wearing a more stoic expression than he did in poker.
Wrath kept a respectable distance to watch.
We continued to stare at each other, neither of us wanting to make the first strike. He took a step to start circling me.
