Page 68 of Once Upon a Crown
Conner’s face was pale as Thatcher used his body to shield himself. My biggest concern was the knife he held to Conner’s throat.
The young boy’s eyes met mine, wide with panic and pleading for me to do something.
I’d thought about this moment so many times. About what I would do when I saw Thatcher again. But I should have known it wouldn’t be as simple as a duel. Thatcher was a coward after all.
“Let him go.” I held up my sword. Elara was close by my side. “He has nothing to do with this.”
“Maybe not.” Thatcher held the knife dangerously close to Conner’s skin. The boy swallowed hard, the apple of his throat bobbing against the steel. “But he’s the only reason you’re not coming at me with that sword right now.”
“Afraid to face me like a man? And yet you always insisted you were better than me at fighting.”
“In hand-to-hand combat, maybe, but I also know when I’m outnumbered.”
“That’s right, we have this whole place surrounded,” Elara said. I didn’t remember the last time I’d seen her face filled with so much anger. “Accept it, Thatcher, you’ve lost.”
“Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t.” He gestured with his head to Conner. “I could always still kill him.”
He braced himself as if to slice open Conner’s throat, and I shouted out, “No!”
Thatcher eyed me from the dais, inviting me to make the next move.
“Let him go, and I’ll put my sword down.”
I was going to murder him but not until I was sure both Conner and Elara were completely safe.
“How do I know I can trust you?” He kept eyeing Elara as if she would pounce on him with that sword at any moment. Had it not been for Conner, I believed she might have, despite her injured arm.
“Have I ever lied to you, Thatch?” I used his old nickname in the hope he would let his guard down.
This palace was filled with endless memories for the two of us, from a very young age. We would chase each other around with wooden swords, sneak into parties we were too young to attend, climb the trees in the gardens and practise fighting. He had gone and thrown it all away, and for what?
“I suppose not.”
“I’ll put my weapon down and you let Conner go, and then we can fight this out, man to man.”
“Are you sure about this?” Elara said softly.
“I know what I’m doing.” I didn’t want to be angry with her, but I was overcome with feelings of disappointment and worry. She’d used the Myrgonite dagger after I begged her not to, and now neither of us knew what the consequence might be.
“All right.” I was thankful he agreed. “Man to man, then.”
I slowly lowered my sword until it lay on the floor next to me.
He gave Conner a hard shove, pushing him in Elara’s direction. She pulled the boy to her and retreated with him, putting them both out of our way.
Thatcher still had the knife in his hand, and I doubted he would be willing to let go of it. I would simply have to take my chances.
I balled my hands into fists, readying my arms in the right position.
Thatcher didn’t hesitate. He came straight at me, with the knife pointing towards my chest.
I dodged left and knocked his arm as hard as I could manage. He let out a grunt of discomfort, running one hand through his hair to get it out of his face.
He swiped at me again and I kept the muscles in my arms rigid as I gave him another hit, this time at his elbow.
One more good hit to his wrist or lower arm and I might be able to rid him of the knife.
I’d been sparring with Thatcher for as long as I could remember. And though I’d never had the intention of actually hurting him until now, I knew all his moves and his weaknesses.
