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Julien shook his head and tugged out of Edmund’s grip. “I know you can fight, but I have been practicing for the past three months with Farrendel and his guards, both elven and human. I have far more experience in this kind of combat, and Farrendel and I have developed a rhythm and teamwork. That experience and practice could very well save both our lives in the duel.”
Farrendel met Julien’s gaze and gave him a slight nod. If this was a scouting mission or an assassination, Farrendel would probably pick Edmund to go with him. But in a straightforward, hand-to-hand combat, there was no other human he would rather have guarding his back than Julien.
Edmund opened his mouth, like he wanted to protest, before he snapped it shut, his gaze pained. “You’re right. I don’t like it, but you’re right. Just, don’t die.” Edmund switched his gaze from Julien to Farrendel. “Any of you.”
This time, Farrendel tipped his head to Edmund, acknowledging the sentiment. With Essie’s hand gripping his tightly, he knew exactly how much he had to live for.
“That’s the plan.” Julien shrugged, as if the thought of being locked in mortal combat with several trolls was not a problem.
Averett’s jaw worked, as if he wanted to argue with his brothers but knew this was their only option. That usurping troll Drurvas had outmaneuvered them all, so far. Averett’s gaze swung to King Rharreth. “How much of a chance do you have in defeating Drurvas?”
King Rharreth’s shoulders fell, and his gaze dropped back to Melantha. Her face paling even further, Melantha’s mouth worked, and she would not look at Weylind or Farrendel.
Cold settled in Farrendel’s stomach. Based on Rharreth’s and Melantha’s reactions, Drurvas was either equally skilled or more so than Rharreth, and they were not confident in Rharreth’s eventual victory.
Yet, as Farrendel knew well, a fight to the death changed things over a practice bout. There was an added ruthless desperation when death was on the line.
After a moment, Rharreth’s shoulders straightened, and he met Farrendel’s gaze with a hard ice to his dark blue eyes. “Leave my cousin to me. It would be best if I were the one to kill him. But I will need you to take care of the other two.”
Farrendel nodded. As he expected. “I can handle them.”
Julien sidled up to his other side and nudged him. “Just like practice. You take care of the offense, and I provide the defense.”
“Yes. Though this will be much harder than our practice.” Farrendel resisted the urge to grimace.
Presumably, these trolls would be some of the best warriors Kostaria had to offer. And Farrendel would be facing two of them without the help of his magic, which had always given him the edge over the troll warriors he faced.
Beside Rharreth, Melantha straightened, the steel returning to her spine. “As long as you are alive, I can heal you. All of you.” She swept her gaze from Julien to Farrendel to Rharreth. “Just stay alive, understand?”
Essie stepped forward and leaned against Farrendel again. Her voice was too low for anyone else to hear as she mumbled, “For once, I agree with Melantha. Just don’t die.”
Even though they were surrounded by both of their families, Farrendel kissed her temple and mumbled against her hair, “I am not planning on it. I still have to show you Estyra in the winter and help you get all of Tarenhiel addicted to hot chocolate.”
That earned him a soft snort, but he could still feel her distress through the heart bond. He wanted her smile, not her fear right now.
He shoved any of his own lingering tension away. “Besides, I would hate to disappoint all those professors at Hanford University who are so eager to turn me into their experiment.”
Essie tilted her head back and laughed. It was not as rich or as hearty as her normal laugh, but it was filled with her warmth and joy, reminding him of all the reasons he had to live.
As the noonday sunbeamed down from a bleached, winter-blue sky, Essie tried not to shift as she stood next to Farrendel, doing her best to look tough and warrior-like in her fighting leathers when all she really wanted to do was grip Farrendel’s hand and prevent him from stepping into the cleared space between the two armies. She could barely breathe past the tension in her chest.
Next to her, Farrendel was hard and cold and all Laesornysh. The heart bond crackled with so much magic she could not feel much of his emotions. Hopefully that meant she wasn’t distracting him with her own churning fear.
Weylind, Averett, and Julien stood with her and Farrendel in front of a small army of Escarlish soldiers and Tarenhieli warriors that Weylind and Averett had moved across the bridge once Farrendel and Julien had agreed to participate in the Dulraith. Since Drurvas had brought Tarenhiel and Escarland into this fight by challenging the alliance, they were no longer mere observers but had a stake in this fight.
The Tarenhieli-Escarlish army filled the space near the gorge while the troll army loyal to Rharreth filled the other half of the clearing up to the tree line. Rharreth and Melantha stood at their head, both of them also dressed in leather armor.
The bulk of the Tarenhieli-Escarlish army remained across the gorge in Tarenhiel, prepared to spring into action as quickly as possible. The Escarlish army even had hidden artillery currently trained on Drurvas and his army.
Jalissa, Rheva, Leyleira, and Edmund stood at the front of the army that remained on the Tarenhieli side of the border. Jalissa had wanted to cross the bridge to join the rest of them in Kostaria, but Weylind had argued that it would be better if not all of the royal families of Tarenhiel and Escarland were on the Kostarian side of the border in case something happened. Averett had then ordered Edmund to stay behind as well. Edmund now stood off to the side, well away from Jalissa.
Essie’s ability to use Farrendel’s magic was the only reason Averett and Farrendel weren’t arguing for her to retreat to a safer location as well.
Across the way, the rebelling trolls started up a howling chant as six troll warriors sauntered a few yards into the cleared ground between the two armies. The one in the lead was a tall, muscular figure with an easy smirk playing on his face. Rharreth had pointed him out as the usurper Drurvas.
As he stripped off his shirt, the sun played along the hard, bulging muscles along Drurvas’s arms, shoulders, and chest. With one last smirk in their direction, Drurvas turned to his army and began shouting highfaluting speech to get them all riled up.
Two of the other male troll warriors with him stripped off their shirts. The other three trolls carried bowls of black paint that they began to smear in ancient runes across the three warriors’ chests, faces, and backs.
