Page 114 of Alliance Bride
He fell into step beside his father and brothers as they entered the woods, shields and swords at the ready for anything. His heart pounded, the blood in his veins already running hot. It had been years since he’d marched to true war, but never had a battle felt so personal. He prayed silently. Not for blood or vengeance as he might have once, but for strength and for justice. For the lives of the men beside him.
They marched in grim silence until the trees thinned and gave way to a clearing. There, across the open field, a line of warriors waited. Blades gleamed. Red and black shields blazed in the afternoon sun. Right in the center of it stood Staegar. His hatred scorched even at a distance, and Aevar’s stomach turned at the sight of him. He scanned their number. Seventy, maybe eighty. About the same as their own force.
They halted thirty feet from the enemy line, the air between them pulsing with a long-brewing fury. The silence stretched out until Fathir stepped forward, his voice clear and powerful.
“As king, I command you to throw down your weapons and surrender.”
Staegar’s lip curled. “You bring an army onto my land, making demands. For what purpose do you march against your own people and dare to threaten me?”
“For having Princess Eadlyn kidnapped, for planning to trade her to the Kalgorans to gain their favor, and for plotting to make yourself king, though we both know if you ever clawed your way to the position, you’d never hold the title. Not even with Kalgora backing you. The other jarls would never be satisfied, and they know you can be beaten because I’ve done it. Twice. I will do it again today if need be.”
Staegar shot a fiery glare at Halbjorn and the others before returning it to Fathir. “You make many accusations. What proof do you have?”
“We have witnesses to your treachery. The words of your own heir condemned you.”
“And where is he?” Staegar snapped, glancing past them. “I don’t see him supporting your claims.”
“In the bellies of wolves up north.”
A flicker of something passed over Staegar’s face. Fury or shame. Perhaps both.
“Nords have not fought each other for generations. You would come here and start a war all for an Essian princess and an unnecessary alliance? You would divide Nordra over a woman not even of our people?”
Aevar stepped forward, flames rising in his chest. “Eadlyn ismy wife. And she is more Nord than you’ll ever be. You are the coward scheming behind the backs of all Nords, letting others do your dirty work instead of issuing an honorable challenge.”
Staegar bared his teeth, his sword twitching as though he were thinking of calling the charge right then and there.
Fathir looked past Staegar to the men flanking him. “We have no quarrel with you. This is not your war. You need not follow him.”
The line stirred. Some exchanged glances. A few shifted their weapons as though reconsidering.
Staegar shot a death glare down the line. “Cowards! Anyone who stands down today forfeits the right to call himself a warrior.”
When his gaze swung back to them, Aevar knew it was over. There would be no negotiating.
“Shields up!” Staegar roared.
The clamor of wood snapped into position all down the line.
“Attack!”
Staegar’s men surged forward like a wave of iron and fury, battle cries tearing the air. The thunder of boots tremored in the ground. Aevar slammed his shield into place and braced for impact. They met in a crash, metal on metal, wood on wood. The force drove through Aevar’s bones, almost buckling his knees. A blade scraped against the rim of his shield, just missing his face.He shoved hard, ramming his sword into the man’s belly. The warrior dropped with a strangled cry, swallowed by the churn of bodies.
Another came fast, swinging high. Aevar ducked and smashed his shield upward. The rim caught the man’s jaw with a crunch. Aevar didn’t wait. He thrust low, his sword biting into flesh. The warrior collapsed at his feet.
But there was no pause. A third man rushed him, roaring. Aevar turned the strike with his shield. He slammed his shoulder forward, driving the warrior back, then cut deep into his thigh. The man fell, clutching at his wound, and Aevar dragged in a breath as sweat stung his eyes.
A shadow loomed.
Aevar spun, ducking as a sword whistled past his head. His shield came up by instinct. Staegar stood before him. Eadlyn’s face flashed in his mind, and what she had suffered, but his focus narrowed to survival. Blood and iron choked the air. Staegar’s face twisted with loathing, his eyes ablaze. With a snarl, he charged, hacking at Aevar’s defenses. His attacks were relentless and brutal, but not wild like Sig’s. Each swing was honed by years of experience and battles. Aevar blocked one attack after another. His shield rattled under the strain, and one savage strike splintered its edge.
He struck back, low and swift, but Staegar pivoted and slammed his shield into Aevar’s ribs. The force jolted through his leather armor, and pain lanced his side. Aevar gritted his teeth, sweeping his blade up, but Staegar slipped away. With a savage roar, he drove his shield straight into Aevar’s face.
The world snapped white. Aevar stumbled and dropped to one knee, blood filling his mouth. He lashed out blindly. Staegarkicked him hard in the chest, knocking him into the dirt. Aevar caught himself with one hand, teeth bared. He lunged, blade carving a line across Staegar’s knee. Staegar cursed and brought his sword down, but Aevar rolled and came up inside his guard. He drove his shoulder into the man’s gut. They staggered together in a knot of limbs, slipping in blood and gore. Staegar’s elbow cracked against Aevar’s skull.
He hit the ground hard, the air punching from his lungs. Everything blurred as the world tilted beneath him. Blood roared in his ears, drowning out the battle. Faint and distant, someone screamed his name. He groped for his weapons and found his sword. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt, which was slick with blood or sweat, but his shield was gone. Staegar loomed above him, shadowed against the sky.
Aevar fought to stand, his vision swimming. The clouds wheeled as he forced his legs beneath him. He raised his sword. Eadlyn’s face came again. Her smile. Her tears. He would not break his promise.
