Page 26 of Promised To the Orc
“Do we have a problem, child?”
“Yes, we do. I’m not marrying your son and you’re still going to enforce that decree or I will spear your body off that throne myself.”
My father shakes his head in annoyance. “You’re brave. Or stupid. Probably stupid.”
“No! I’m tired of being afraid!” The words burst out of her from the deepest recess of her soul and bounce off the walls. “I want to live my life without being scared!”
Pointing the sword at my father, she takes two steps forward. “You’re the reason I can’t step over Ritka’s boundaries. You’re the reason humans disappear when no one is paying attention. You kept us in the ice caves all those years. I’m done being at the mercy of orcs!”
My heart breaks at the despair and fury in her voice. I have to stop this before she gets herself killed. “Alta. Stop!”
“I’ll deal with you next,” she hisses, never taking her eyes from my father.
My body is primed with so much adrenaline that I can hardly think straight. Equally, I’ve never been more focused. I observe the position of every guard in the room, the weapons they’re holding, and how long it will take them to get to Alta.
She moves even closer to my father. The tip of her blade could easily touch him if she inched forward more. His hand flexes as if he might grab the blade, but he thinks twice. He’d slice his fingers off and that’s not a risk he’s willing to take.
“Fight me, you coward.” She lifts her chin in challenge. “You want me dead so bad, you come for me yourself. With your own hands!”
My father sneers. “Oh, human. That was the plan all along. I can’t wait to behead you in front of my guests to show the kingdom how I plan to get rid of all of you. Your little show right now will make it even more fun.”
He is goading her on to see if she’ll take the bait. Alta remains steady. She doesn’t flinch as I approached behind her, cautiously, measuring each step so I don’t spook her. She might turn the blade on me, and then my father will turn the guards on both of us. This could easily turn into a no-win situation.
“I said, fight me.”
Reaching into her pocket, she produces a knife and quickly slams it against the side of the sword. My father reacts by drawing his own knife, but jerks back with a gasp as Alta’s sword bursts into flame. She swipes it at him, catching the hem of his robe. It ignites and rushes through the material. Shrieking, he shrugs it off, but the flapping of the material only makes the fire worse. She lunges again, catching the tip against his thigh. She withdraws and a spurt of blood follows at the same time the fabric of his pants ignites.
The guards close in.
Jumping into action, I work my way through them, fighting them off one by one. Alta swirls her sword, driving them back with the flame tip. My father gets the robe off and has drawn his own sword, but seems uncertain about facing Alta. She lunges at him again, but he parries and drives her blade back. The impact of the sword blades causes the fire to flame higher. She grins in satisfaction.
She’s enjoying this.
A part of me wants to allow it, to let her feel satisfaction in beating my father. But I’m not sure how she’ll live with his death on her hands. He strikes. She takes two quick steps back, her eyes wide, and barely avoids a blow. It quickly becomes apparent how unskilled she is in hand to hand combat. Taking out three of my father’s guards, I nod to my spies, letting them know it’s time. There’s no going back from this. They spin on the others and in no time, my father’s guards are subdued.
My father looks from me to his traitorous guards. I can tell he’s putting the pieces together while still fending off Alta’s blade. With a growl of fury, he lunges at her, nearly catching her in the side, but she rolls away. Her knees hit the floor and she yelps in pain, the sword clattering against the hard ground. He gets to her before I can. Looping an arm around her neck and drawing her up. Her eyes go big when she sees me coming towards them.
“Which one of you is going to do it?” Her raspy voice cuts through me.
“Me,” my father says. “But not now. I’m going to deal with my son first.”
He tosses her to the side and her body falls like a cloth doll onto the floor. The sword lays between her and my father. Scrambling to a sitting position, she gets on her knees and tries to crawl toward it.
“Tour! Don’t let him have it!”
I think of the sword, of what it said to me. Of how violently it vibrated in protest of my father. She doesn’t trust me, but she doesn’t want him to have this weapon. I take that small piece of trust and dive for the sword, scooping the hilt into my hand and rolling on my knees before pushing back into a standing position. The sword homes and I swear its golden color gets brighter. My father rushes me.
“So, this is the day you try to kill me.”
“I can’t allow you to kill every human in this kingdom. I know what you’re planning with Vol, and I’ve already sent word to Ritka. It’s over.”
“It’s never over.”
His sword comes down on mine, the clash of metal deafening. His voice is seething with fury and hate. “If you knew all this time, why did you wait so long to usurp me?”
“I didn’t want people to get hurt unnecessarily. It takes time to gather reinforcements, but they came in droves. The people of this kingdom are tired of tyranny. They want peace and you want anything but.”
He strikes again, the blow sending pain down my arms and into my shoulders. I strike back, my heart lurching to my throat when my blade burst into flame again. Incredible! My father jumps back before his clothing can ignite, and I drive him back, back, even farther. He meets me thrust for thrust, metal clanking, our feet sliding and screeching across the floor.
