Page 27 of The Iron Oath
The smaller of the two tripped over something unseen which the more aggressive orc took advantage of. He fell on top of him and pummeled him with his fist. Amuleta grimaced at the raw display of savagery. She looked away, unable to watch. The crowd grew into a frenzy as the victor stood. She turned back and saw the larger one stalking around the arena with his arms outstretched. The other rolled over onto his stomach, obviously injured.
It didn’t take long for the chieftain’s warriors to come and help the injured orc out of the arena. The victor would advance.
Once both fighters had left the arena, an orc draped in a long red cape strode out to the center of the ring. The crowd grew silent. This must be the announcer coming to introduce the next fight. Amuleta chewed on her bottom lip as worry set in. After that brutal display, how could she witness Magoza participate in something like that? Her mother had always shielded her away when it came to her father, but she herself never once glanced away when he was in the ring.
Could Amuleta be as brave as her mother?
“Udenia! What a display of bravery and honor!” the announcer shouted.
The crowd roared its response. The bloodthirsty spectators were on their feet, shouting and screaming their excitement. Amuleta gripped the stone railing underneath her palms. She glanced around and took in the amount of people who filled the stadium. There were at least tens of thousands of bodies filling the arena to capacity.
“This next battle is one that you have all been waiting for. The visitor hails from the Dhogurd Clan of the village of Kelgi.”
Amuleta’s gaze snapped to the area of the arena the announcer pointed to. Her mouth parted slightly to hear that someone from her father’s former clan was present. It shouldn’t surprise her because the trials were for all clans that belonged to Aghon. An orc who stood over seven foot tall, with broad shoulders, and a scowl came from the gate that lifted. He was battle-hardened, with scars on his face, his dark hair kept short to his head, and one tusk was broken off. There was a broadsword resting in his back scabbard. He was definitely someone who Amuleta would not want to come across in a back alley or even on the street in broad daylight. A shiver rippledthrough her at the sight of him. He raised his arms and gave a roar.
“May I introduce Golub, son of Karguk of the Dhogurd Clan,” the announcer’s words echoed through the air.
Golub stalked toward the section where the chieftain and his mate sat. Amuleta took in Tulak and his mate, Dura. The highly respected couple stood in honor of the warrior. They both gave a bow of their heads to acknowledge Golub who pounded his fist over his heart in respect. He backed away and strode toward his gate.
The crowd remained on their feet. The announcer gave a wide grin and a dramatic pause before he shared Golub’s opponent. Amuleta grew nauseated, and her knees shook. Her breath caught in her throat.
“Udenia, it gives me great pride to announce the next warrior. She is no stranger to battle and has commanded many warriors in the name of your chieftain. From the Nidani Clan, firstborn daughter of Tulak, I present to you—Magoza!” the male shouted.
The roar in the arena was deafening. Amuleta locked on to the sight of Magoza striding out from underneath the rising gate of her entrance. There was a scowl in place. She was the epitome of war commander with her leather fighting pants and tunic. On her waist were her twin axes. Her dark hair was away from her face in an intricate design.
The crowd chanted her name. Amuleta could barely hear herself think as the crowd showed their respect and admiration for the commander. The ground trembled from the stomps of orcs’ feet.
Amuleta pressed her knees together. The second she took in Magoza making her way to the center of the arena, she knew she would not be able to look away from the fight. Something movedinside her. She closed her eyes briefly and sent up a silent prayer to Nogora.
“Guide her, Goddess. Keep her safe. Protect her and bring her through,” Amuleta whispered. A sense of peace settled in her as if the goddess were next to her.
Her eyes flickered open, and she took in Magoza standing in front of her parents. The couple stood with pride and gazed down at their daughter. Even from where Amuleta stood, she saw the love beaming from both of them. Magoza did as Golub had and pounded on her chest above her heart. The couple returned the same action and gave a nod to acknowledge her.
The moment the announcer disappeared from the arena, the fight began. Golub may have been slightly taller and more muscular than Magoza, but it was the commander who was the calculating fighter. Amuleta stood straight. Golub advanced on Magoza.
They stalked around each other, sizing one another up. They tested each other’s responses at first. Magoza only held one of her axes at the moment. The crowd screamed and cheered on.
“Take him out, Commander!” a deep voice shouted behind Amuleta.
The crowd wanted blood while Amuleta wanted Magoza out of the ring and safe, but this was the life of the orc war commander. One who had to fight to prove herself worthy to sit on the throne. Amuleta bit her lip. Golub swung his massive sword at Magoza who easily blocked his advance. A lesser male would have crumpled under the force of his power, but Magoza spun around and snatched her second axe from her waist.
She advanced on him with both of them. She swung them toward him, pushing him backward. The male had apparently underestimated Magoza. Tension sizzled through the air, everyone taking in the fight. It started off light while they’d tested each other, but now it was growing more brutal. The clangof Magoza’s axe connecting with Golub’s sword sliced through the air.
Golub snuck through and slammed his fist into her chest, sending her sliding back on her heels. She didn’t fall, but instead a guttural growl sounded from the war commander. Amuleta’s hand immediately went to her own chest as if she had felt the punch. The skin underneath her touch was sensitive, and there was a slight ache.
Magoza strode forward as if the punch had unlocked a fury inside her. She went in on the attack. Her movements were fluid and like poetry. Her axes flew through the air as she swung them. Golub twisted away, avoiding her sharp weapons. He spun around and swung his sword down in a swift motion. Magoza threw up both of her axes to block his attack. She kicked out her leg, sending the warrior down to the ground.
Amuleta’s hand flew her to mouth. There was something magical about watching Magoza. She was fast while the other warrior was bulky and slower. Neither of them were willing to give up. They traded blows with their weapons. One of Magoza’s axes went flying and landed away from her. A gasp went up from the crowd; she was now left with one weapon, but that didn’t faze the commander.
She crouched in a defensive stance and narrowed her gaze on Golub. The larger warrior rushed toward her, and for the first time Amuleta sensed what her orc ancestors may have felt when they recognized their mates.
Fear.
Breath-snatching fear that she would never see Magoza again. Never feel her touch. Never hear her voice. Or feel her lips on hers again.
Something inside Amuleta cracked.
Was Magoza truly her mate?
