Page 127 of Troll Queen

Still holding his ax flat with one hand, Drurvas gestured with the other, and the line of warriors behind him parted. Zavni and Eyvindur were shoved forward roughly and forced to kneel on the rocky ground. Their hands were bound behind their backs, and crusted blood marred their faces and clothes. Zavni had a large, dark bruise on his cheek and one eye was swollen shut. Eyvindur had a large gash across his forehead. But both of them had tight jaws and hard eyes flashing with defiance.

Vriska was the warrior pinning Zavni down. She met Rharreth’s gaze and gave a slow wink.

Rharreth could not let so much as a twitch betray his relief. She was still on his side, and she would know her mission. If Drurvas planned more treachery, she would escape to report it. If she could, she would help Zavni and Eyvindur escape.

Instead, Rharreth forced his face to harden, and he glared at Vriska with all the feigned hate that he could muster. “Vriska. I should have known you would have joined Drurvas in his treachery.”

Vriska gave a smirk that mirrored Drurvas, cocking one hand on her hip while she pinned Zavni on his knees with the other. “Of course. My loyalty lies with the strongest in the line of the kings.”

Clever wording. She spoke the truth while deceiving Drurvas into believing that was him.

“There you have it, Rharreth. Even those among your shield band believe you are too weak to be king. Why should the rest of Kostaria follow you?” Drurvas raised his eyebrows, as if he truly wanted to know the answer.

It was the opening that Rharreth had been looking for. He straightened and met Drurvas stare-for-stare. “If it is a test of strength that Kostaria wants, then I challenge you to a Dulraith. Let all of Kostaria see us pit our strength against each other and judge who is fit to be king and who will die.”

Drurvas did not react. Perhaps he, too, had known that this would come down to a Dulraith from the moment he had failed to kill Rharreth in Osmana.

Drurvas’s smirk turned into something closer to a sneer. “I agree that only one of us can survive. We are the last of the Regdrir royal warrior family. Unless your elf bride already carries your whelp?”

Rharreth had to grit his teeth at another insult to Melantha. She would be safer if he denied that chance to Drurvas. “She does not. If I’m killed, she will be allowed to return to her people in peace. That is my only demand.”

“I will only agree to this demand if you agree to mine.” Drurvas’s sneer showed his teeth, his eyes glinting. “You claim that peace with Tarenhiel and Escarland will strengthen Kostaria. If that is so, then let youralliesprove it. I challenge your alliance to the Dulraith.”

Rharreth’s chest filled with ice. This was not the plan. Not at all. This Dulraith was supposed to be between just him and Drurvas.

Instead, Drurvas had brought Tarenhiel and Escarland even deeper into Kostaria’s affairs without appearing to weaken his position at all.

Would the leaders of Tarenhiel and Escarland agree to this? They would not like it. Not one bit.

Rharreth tilted his chin, hating that even saying these words would make him appear weak in front of Drurvas and the rebelling warrior families. “I will have to consult with their leaders. I cannot speak for them.”

“Of course you cannot.” That sneer was back on Drurvas’s face and in his voice, lashing at Rharreth. “You have until noon to talk to your allies, though I doubt they will have the stomach for this.”

Rharreth was not sure he had the stomach for dealing with Drurvas’s lies and treachery one moment longer.

But Drurvas had neatly maneuvered him into a corner. Either Rharreth talked representatives of Tarenhiel and Escarland into participating in the Dulraith, or he would have already lost his honor and his throne even before starting a duel where he would surely lose his life if forced to fight alone.

Rharreth gripped oneof Melantha’s hands as they strode across the bridge her brother King Weylind had grown early that morning out of sight of Drurvas’s army for ease of communication.

But, like before, this was a conversation Rharreth had to have face-to-face with the elf king. There would be no entrusting this to a mere messenger.

King Weylind, Laesornysh, and all the Escarlish royalty were lined up at the tree line, waiting for Rharreth and Melantha. The shadowy figures of guards waited among the trees, but they did not intervene, just as Rharreth’s guards waited by the far end of the bridge.

King Averett hurried forward as soon as Rharreth stepped from the bridge, his face more earnest and open than an elf or troll would ever allow. “Well, what is the word? Did your cousin agree to a...what did you call that fancy duel?”

King Weylind had his hands gripped behind his back, his jaw in a hard line. Beside him, Laesornysh stood, hale and strong, moving with that deadly, confident grace that spoke of the lethal warrior he was.

With a deep breath, Rharreth faced King Averett, keeping King Weylind in his peripheral vision. “The Dulraith is an ancient tradition in Kostaria. It is a test of physical strength that is fought to the death without mercy. No long-range weapons or magic is allowed. No one observing the Dulraith may interfere with the contestants whatsoever. If a rule is violated by either the combatants or those observing, the violator will be killed. It is a solemn, deadly affair, and a challenge of a Dulraith is only issued in matters of the gravest importance.”

“Yes...” King Averett drew out the word, his forehead scrunched. The humans had never had many dealings with the trolls, with the buffer of Tarenhiel between them. He did not yet see what Rharreth was trying to tell him. “I believe you mentioned last night something about this Dulraith being a fight to the death.”

Melantha’s hand tightened in Rharreth’s, her face pale. But she stood straight, her jaw tight. Until the night before, he had never told her that the Dulraith was to the death. There had been a lot of yelling once they had been alone. But, now, she didn’t voice her concerns in front of the others.

Behind King Averett, King Weylind’s shoulders had gone tense, and Laesornysh’s eyes had gone a harder, icier silver-blue. They sensed that if Rharreth was taking the time to reiterate the rules of the Dulraith, then he had a good reason—or a very bad one—for doing so.

Rharreth faced King Averett and King Weylind. “Yes, he agreed to the Dulraith. But, in return, he challenged the whole of our alliance to the duel.”

Laesornysh stiffened, a hand reaching up to touch the hilt of one of his swords. King Weylind gave a slight shake to his head, though Rharreth could not be sure if he was expressing his disbelief or if he was already denying what Rharreth had to ask before he’d even asked it.

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