The Duel

The Duel

POV: Talon

The clash of steel rang through the courtyard like thunder. From his position on the eastern wall, Talon watched Kieran and Magnus circle each other, their blades catching the morning light. Blood already stained Kieran's uniform, but his eyes burned with determination.
Magnus moved like death itself. Every strike was precise, calculated, designed to maim rather than kill quickly. He was playing with Kieran, and everyone knew it.
"Gods," Garrick breathed beside Talon. "Magnus is going to tear him apart."
Talon's hands gripped the wall's edge hard enough to hurt. Around the dueling pair, the siege continued in chaotic waves. Soldiers clashed, wolves snarled, and buildings burned. But everyone's attention kept drifting to the center of the courtyard where their temporary commander fought a legend.
A legend who murdered entire families and called it politics.
"We have to help him," Talon said, already moving toward the stairs.
Aelis grabbed his arm. "If we interfere, Magnus's forces might take it as an excuse to slaughter everyone. This is a formal challenge now. There are rules."
"I don't care about rules!" Talon yanked free. "Kieran's going to die if we don't help him."
He took the stairs three at a time, Aelis and Garrick scrambling after him. His ribs still ached from the previous battle, and his sword arm trembled with fatigue, but none of that mattered. Kieran had stood up for the cadets when no one else would. He'd protected Seth when he could have turned her over for safety.
Now it was Talon's turn to return the favor.
The courtyard was worse up close. Bodies littered the ground. The copper smell of blood mixed with smoke and fear. Talon pushed through clusters of fighting soldiers, his focus locked on Magnus's broad back.
Kieran stumbled, blocked a vicious overhead strike, but Magnus's boot caught him in the stomach. Kieran hit the ground hard.
"Disappointing," Magnus said, his voice carrying easily. "I expected better from someone who thinks he can protect what's mine."
"She's not yours," Kieran gasped, rolling away from Magnus's descending blade. The sword bit into the stone where his head had been.
Magnus laughed. "Legal contracts say otherwise, boy. Her father signed her to me three years ago. Every court in the realm recognizes my claim."
"Her father's dead. You killed him." Kieran regained his feet, breathing hard. "You killed her whole family."
"Unfortunate accident." Magnus's smile never wavered. "Political disputes can turn violent so quickly, can't they?"
Talon was close now, maybe twenty feet away. Magnus's back was to him, all his attention on Kieran. If Talon was fast, if he was lucky, he could land a killing blow before Magnus even knew he was there.
He launched himself forward, sword aimed at Magnus's exposed back. Magnus moved. One moment he was focused on Kieran. The next, his free hand shot out and caught Talon's blade mid-strike. The metal bit into Magnus's palm but he didn't even flinch. His fingers closed around the blade like a vice.
"Foolish boy," Magnus said without looking at him. Then Magnus twisted. The sword tore from Talon's grip. Pain exploded through his wrist as bones ground together. Before Talon could react, Magnus's boot slammed into his chest.
The world blurred. Talon flew backward, hit the ground, and rolled. His ribs screamed. At least two were broken, maybe more. He tried to breathe and got fire instead of air.
"Talon!" Aelis's voice seemed to come from very far away.
Through watering eyes, Talon saw Magnus toss his sword aside like trash. The warlord turned back to Kieran, not even winded.
"Where were we?" Magnus asked pleasantly. "Ah yes. You were about to die."
Kieran attacked with desperate speed. His blade wove patterns of light, each strike aimed at vital points. He was good, Talon realized. Better than good. But Magnus was a master.
Magnus parried, sidestepped, countered. His own blade moved with lazy confidence, each movement economical and brutally effective. He opened a cut on Kieran's shoulder. Another across his thigh. Small wounds, none immediately fatal, but they added up.
Kieran was slowing down. Blood loss and exhaustion were taking their toll.
"You can't win," Magnus said conversationally, blocking another strike. "You're what, twenty? I've been killing since before you were born. I've fought in wars you've never heard of. I've ended bloodlines older than your house."
"Then why are you talking so much?" Kieran gasped. "Afraid of something?"
Magnus's expression darkened. His next strike came fast as lightning. Kieran barely got his sword up in time. The force of the blow drove him to one knee.
"Afraid?" Magnus leaned his weight onto the locked blades, forcing Kieran lower. "I'm savoring this, boy. Do you know how rare it is for prey to actually fight back? Usually they just run and hide like the cowards they are."
Talon tried to stand. His body refused to cooperate. Through the haze of pain, he saw Garrick trying to reach the duel but getting intercepted by Magnus's soldiers. Aelis was fighting three opponents at once, her movements quick but desperate.
They were losing. The fort was falling. And Kieran was about to die. No. No, this couldn't be how it ended. Talon forced himself to his hands and knees. Every breath felt like knives in his chest. His vision swam but he focused on Magnus's back, on the gap between his armor plates where a blade might slip through. If he could just get there. If he could just help. Magnus kicked Kieran's blade away and put his sword to Kieran's throat.
"Any last words?" Magnus asked.
Kieran's eyes blazed silver. "She's worth more than you'll ever understand."
"Oh, I understand perfectly." Magnus raised his sword. "That's why I've spent three years hunting her. That's why I'll burn this entire fort to claim what's mine. And when I do, I'll make her watch while I kill everyone who helped her. Starting with you."
The blade began its descent.
"Stop!"
The voice cut through the battle like a blade through silk. Clear, commanding, unmistakably female.
Everything froze. Soldiers mid-swing. Wolves mid-leap. Even the flames seemed to pause in their consumption of the fort's buildings.
Magnus's sword stopped an inch from Kieran's throat. The warlord's head turned slowly, like a predator scenting prey.
Talon followed his gaze and felt his heart stop.
++±++++
POV: Seraphina
She couldn't watch anymore.
From the command post window, Seraphina had seen everything. Talon's brave, foolish attack. His body flying through the air. Kieran bleeding, dying, fighting for her while Magnus played with him like a cat with a mouse.
Her fault. All of it was her fault.
She'd run for three years, hidden behind lies and disguises, let others pay the price for her survival. Her family had died protecting her. How many more would fall before she stopped being a coward?
The answer was simple. No more. Seraphina strode from the command post. Her legs felt strange, wrong, like they belonged to someone else. But they carried her forward anyway, out into the courtyard, into the open where Magnus could see. Where everyone could see.
"Stop!" The word came from somewhere deep inside, from the part of her that remembered being Lady Seraphina Thornfield, daughter of a High Council lord, bearer of white wolf blood.
The part of her she'd buried under Seth's simple peasant disguise.
The battle froze. A hundred faces turned toward her. Friend and enemy alike stared with shock, confusion, recognition.
Magnus's sword stopped at Kieran's throat. The warlord turned slowly, and his expression transformed. Rage melted into something far more dangerous. Triumph.
Savage, terrible triumph.
"There you are, little bird." Magnus's voice carried across the silent courtyard. "I knew you couldn't resist making an entrance."
Seraphina forced her legs to move, carrying her forward through the frozen tableau. Bodies lay between her and Magnus. Blood pooled on the stones. The air tasted of smoke and death.
She stepped over it all, eyes locked on the man who'd murdered her family.
"Let him go," she said. Her voice didn't shake. That surprised her.
Magnus's smile widened. "Why would I do that?"
"Because I'll come with you. Willingly. Right now." The words tasted like ash. "Just let Kieran go. Let all of them go."
"Seraphina, no!" Kieran's voice cracked with desperation. "Don't do this!"
She didn't look at him. If she looked at him, she'd lose her nerve.
Magnus's eyes traveled over her slowly, cataloging every detail. "Look at you. My little bride playing soldier. Did you really think you could hide from me forever?"
"I wasn't hiding." She stopped ten feet from him, close enough to see the old scars on his face, the cold calculation in his eyes. "I was surviving. There's a difference."
"Semantics." Magnus removed his sword from Kieran's throat but didn't lower it. "You're mine, Seraphina. You've always been mine. Your father promised you to me, and that debt will be paid."
"My father's dead because of you."
"Your father was weak. He thought he could back out of our agreement. I simply reminded him that actions have consequences." Magnus gestured at the burning fort. "Much like I'm reminding this fort now."
Seraphina's hands clenched at her sides. Silver light flickered around her fingers, responding to her rage.
Magnus noticed. His smile grew. "There it is. The white wolf power I've been waiting for. Do you have any idea how valuable you are, little bird? How many would kill for what runs through your veins?"
"I'm not a commodity."
"You're whatever I say you are." Magnus took a step toward her. "Now, here's what's going to happen. You'll come with me quietly. I'll take you back to Blackstone Keep, we'll have a proper wedding, and you'll learn your place. In exchange, I might let these people live. Might."
"No." Kieran struggled to stand. "Seraphina, don't listen to him. He's lying."
Magnus glanced at Kieran with mild annoyance
. "Oh, you're still breathing? Let's fix that."
He raised his sword again.