Page 71 of Storm of Fury
I don’t think this has anything to do with politics….
“Normally I’d love to stay and play,” Marduk said, stepping forward to meet her, “but my sister is out there somewhere in the world, and I need to find her.”
Solveig moved so swiftly, Tormund barely saw what happened.
One second, Marduk was standing there.
And the next, he was flat on his back, the breath driving from his lungs.
Solveig moved to slam the butt of the spear between his ribs again, but Marduk flipped and sprang to his feet. The pair of them stared at each other with teeth bared, and an uncomfortable sensation trailed down Tormund’s spine.
Despite the light words, this Solveig wasn’t playing. She had death in her eyes and vengeance in her smile, and perhaps Marduk finally realized it too.
“Your quarrel isn’t with my companions,” the prince said, straightening. “Your quarrel is with me. And I’m not fighting you.”
“Yes. You will.” The princess tossed him her spear, and then held out her hand for another. One of her guards tossed one toward her. She caught it without even taking her eyes off Marduk. “Or you will die. Either way, I will consider our debt satisfied.”
Blood dripped between the prince’s knuckles as he squared off against her.
“He’s injured,” Tormund protested. “You cannot fight an injured man… ordreki.”
“That was just a kiss of greeting,” Solveig assured him. “And if it slows Marduk down, then he’s not worthy of the namedreki.”
“Stay out of this,” Marduk called over his shoulder. He faced Solveig. “You want to dance? Fine. Let’s dance.”
The first clash of the spears came in a whirlwind of fire-hardened wood.
Solveig’s spear slipped under the swing of Marduk’s. The butt smashed into his hand, and he wrenched the spear back, shaking his clearly smarting knuckles.
Each move the warlord made was quick and economical. The prince was bigger than she was, and stronger, but Solveig was pure, unrelenting focus. She moved as though she’d spent every night of the past decade choreographing this fight in her head, and had predicted every move Marduk would make.
Marduk landed flat on his stomach on the stony floor of the ruins, baring his bloodstained teeth. The spear went flying and his gaze slid toward it, but Solveig drove the sharp-edged blade of her spear down and it was all he could do to avoid it.
Tormund edged forward on the balls of his feet. “She’s going to kill him.”
“Don’t.” Bryn’s hand caught his, ramming his axe back into its sheath. “You draw a weapon now, and her guards will kill you.”
“If I don’t draw one, then she’ll killhim.”
“No,” she said coldly. “She’s had chances to do so if she so desired. She wants to make this hurt.”
And it was true.
He could see the fight through new eyes. Marduk had been chained within the Kamchatka court and injured in battle. And while the blood that welled from his new wound was sluggish, it was still a critical injury,drekior not. It showed in every step he took. But Solveig hesitated when she could have moved to finish him.
Instead, she waited for the prince to find his feet before she drove the spear directly toward his face.
Marduk flinched to the side, grabbing the spear with both hands and wrenching her forward in a move that was clearly premeditated. He smashed his forehead into hers, ripping the spear clear from her hands and tossing it behind him.
Solveig barely staggered.
Instead, she whipped her foot around, nearly taking Marduk’s head clean off his shoulders. Spinning low, she tried to take his feet out from under him. Marduk leapt lightly over the kick, landing behind her.
Throwing herself into a roll, she came up with the spear in her hands again.
“Ten years,” Marduk panted. “I think you missed me more than I missed you. I don’t believe I even spared you a thought, my love.”
Solveig’s face tightened, and then she moved into a crippling combination. Head, knees, foot. Marduk managed to avoid all but the last, wincing as she drove the spear butt into his ankle. As he folded forward, the butt snapped up, crunching into his chin with a deafening sound.
