Page 16 of A Glint of Steel and Roses

A hand clamped on my shoulder and yanked me away. “Leave him alone, Tepith. He’s drunk and not worthy quarry,” said my partner from the Donkey Bones game.

“Human lover,” Tepith, the big Skaag, snarled and threw a punch that sent my partner sprawling into another group of Skaags, spilling their dinners.

They shoved him away and jumped to their feet, two of them tackling Tepith. Tepith’s friends abandoned their dinners to try to break up the fight, and then more Skaags rushed over to see what was happening before being drawn into the brawl.

“Fist fight!” someone shouted with undue glee and another wave of Skaags rushed over, practically diving into the mayhem I was trying to escape.

Fists flew. Bottles broke. Blood spurted and pots and pans were brought in to be used as weapons. I dodged a few wayward punches thrown my way before I lost my footing and fell into the dirt. The horizon tilted, but I crawled toward it, desperate to get away before one of them noticed me.

Tepith suddenly landed in the dirt next to me, his face bloodied. He pushed up on his elbows and looked straight at me.

I tried to smile.

“You!” he grunted and grabbed me by the throat.

I threw a panicked punch that somehow managed to connect with his jaw. His face jerked to one side before he looked slowly back at me, scowling, his hand tightening around my neck. He drew back a fist and hit me once on the side of the face. My vision went white as pain exploded in the side of my skull. I kicked out to try to free myself. My foot landed between his legs with an audiblethunk. Tepith’s eyes flew wide and went watery. He let out a little whimper and released me to grab for his balls.

I hit the ground on my hands and knees and clawed my way forward, the fighting all around me. It seemed like half the camp had decided to get in on the scuffle. One of them fell into the dying coals of a cook fire nearby and screeched, jumping up and shaking hot coals out of his clothes. It was chaos, and I didn’t know which way was up, let alone which way to crawl to get away from it all.

A horn suddenly cut through the din of shouting and smashing pans, the sound growing louder. Within seconds, there were others moving through the crowd, Nightmares in armor armed with hooked sticks and clubs. They grabbed Skaags, pulling them apart and hooking their sticks around necks to yank them back when necessary. The area cleared, the fighting slowly dying down. When I looked around, there were bruised and bloody Skaags in every direction.

Fear clenched in my gut when Odan pushed his way through the crowd, a scowl on his face. “All right, you ugly whoresons. Who’s responsible for this mess?”

Several fingers pointed straight at me. I slowly raised my hand. There was no point in denying it. It was my fault for tripping in the first place. The others had just jumped in to defend me.

Odan’s wings twitched. “Nevahn? What the…” His face twisted in a scowl, and he grabbed me. “You’re coming with me,” he said and started to drag me away.

“Nev-ahn!” chanted some of the Skaags behind me in a cheer as Odan hauled me out of the mess. “Nev-ahn!”

One of the Skaags grinned at me, showing bloody teeth. He patted my back as Odan dragged me past. “Best fight I’ve had in years!”

“Come back anytime, human!”

Odan dragged me all the way to the little grassy area behind the mess tent before he let me go. “What the brimstone’s gotten into you?”

I swayed on my feet, my stomach turning over. “I dunno,” I said, and promptly doubled over to vomit. The only saving grace was that I somehow managed not to throw up all over Odan.

He sighed and patted my back. “Go on. Get it all out. That’ll teach you to go drinking with Skaags.”

I started to tell him I hadn’t planned on getting rip-roaring drunk and starting a camp-wide brawl, but I couldn’t get a word out. I was too busy emptying my stomach.

When I was done, Odan handed me his canteen. I swished the water around in my mouth and spat it out before sipping a little. My head was still woozy, and the punch I’d taken was starting to make my eye swell.

“You look like shit,” Odan said and poked the side of my face.

I winced and shoved his hand away. “Don’t be a dick,” I slurred.

“Well, don’t get drunk with Skaags.” He sighed again. “Anyway, you need to see a healer to get that looked at and have a little sober-up potion. You’ll still feel like shit, but it’ll help you clear your head. I can either take you to the healer tent or back to Cian. Your choice.”

My stomach turned over again at the thought of Cian and Hellion seeing me like that. I was sure to get a lecture either way, but maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if they only heard about it second hand. “Healers,” I managed.

He slapped a hand on my shoulders and gripped me by the back of the neck, guiding me to a small tent tucked in a quiet corner of the camp. There were a handful of Skaags waiting there, some of them obviously injured in the fight. Most of them were clutching enchanted cloths to bruises, but a few were sitting patiently while healers closed cuts and saw to broken bones. Since my injuries weren’t that severe, I had to sit and wait. I felt like a child, sitting there with Odan next to me, his arms folded over his chest. It didn’t help that the Skaags kept glancing at me and whispering to each other, clearly talking about me.

After a while, one of them finally worked up the courage to say something to me directly. He lowered the cooling cloth he’d been keeping against his swollen jaw and cocked his head to one side. “Is it true, human? You started the fight with Tepith?”

The room went quiet, all the Skaags looking expectantly at me.

I pressed my lips together, deciding if I should answer honestly. The last thing I wanted was everyone hating me, but I guessed I might as well own it. The rumors were already circulating. So, I sat up straight and cleared my throat. “Yeah, that was me.”

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