The Myatheira Chronicles: Volume Three: Crown of Ice

by Melissa Collins

  The last thing Edric wanted was to fight him. This man could have been his brother, if life had taken them in different directions. He hated the thought of being enemies. Bringing his arms up to protect his head Edric blocked a flurry of blows rained down upon him, the power behind each one rising in intensity. Onuric was remarkably strong. To consider taking him on in physical combat seemed destined for failure… in more ways than one.

  Ehren’s loud voice could be heard calling for him. He sounded exasperated. Strained. Out of breath, as if involved in some unknown struggle in the darkness. Of course. Ewei would never allow Ehren to provide assistance. He was probably enjoying the current predicament, plotting ways to instigate it further. If Onuric killed Edric it would serve Ewei’s plans perfectly.

  “Fight me, you coward!” Onuric shouted, grabbing Edric by the collar to lift him from the ground.

  Edric’s feet dangled in front of Onuric, his hands down at his sides. “I am not going to fight you, Onuric. It doesn’t have to be this way.”

  A solid strike landed against Edric’s nose, sending his head reeling. Speckles of white light danced in front of his vision, blurring the image of Onuric’s face into nothing more than a faint outline, his ears ringing, distracted by the pain. He couldn’t think straight. Vaguely he could still feel Onuric holding him, shaking him, the bones in his body jarred with every harsh jerk, his neck snapping back and forth with an uncomfortable crack.

  Think. Avoiding violence wasn’t an option. Onuric wouldn’t be talked down. But lashing out seemed equally foolish. He wasn’t prepared to take on the strongest warrior the Ovatai had to offer next to the Chief himself. The truth was that he didn’t have a choice. He could either fight back or die at Onuric’s hands. Though he had resigned himself to death, he had no intention of going down like this.

  It had been a long time since he last fought anyone in this fashion. Their battles in Ethrysta had all been against animals or the swords of the Ythes. In Tanispa the only hand-to-hand combat he engaged in was during training. Cadell and Callum were worthy adversaries in practice but this was completely different. He needed to focus. To prepare himself for what Onuric was capable of. Once he committed himself to the fight there would be no turning back. They would continue until it was finished, one way or another.

  Calling upon every ounce of strength he possessed Edric swung at Onuric, a searing pain radiating through his hand and along his arm into his shoulder, the knuckles connecting solidly with his target. A wave of pride came over him, though it was short-lived. A single successful strike was hardly worthy of celebration. It allowed him just enough time to blink away the spots invading his vision, watching Onuric stumble backward, hand at his face, blood pouring over his snowy white fingers where they were positioned across his nose. Edric cursed under his breath. He struck with far more accuracy than he’d anticipated. Onuric was bound to re-enter the fight with renewed fury over the humiliation of taking a hit from a man he believed inferior.

  Cadell’s lessons came back quickly. Survival instincts had a way of pushing the body to do things without need of conscious thought to direct it. Parry. Block. Bending his knees he dipped low to avoid another strike aimed toward his head, countering it instantly with a hook punch, narrowly missing Onuric’s left temple. Close quarters combat had always been Edric’s favorite when he was a child before Cadell first handed him a sword. His arms and legs went through the motions flawlessly, maintaining a distance with Onuric that was comfortable for Edric yet distracting to his opponent. Control over the fight was an important detail. He would have a better chance at victory if the battle was fought on his conditions rather than attempting to adjust to the combat methods utilized by Onuric. Their styles contrasted one another. Onuric tended to strike and evade, stepping away to place distance between them, avoiding staying close for too long. Edric preferred to maintain the tight range, granting him a wider array of openings and targets. In the cramped passageway Onuric found it difficult to maneuver away from Edric with any ease. Their surroundings worked to Edric’s advantage and he could tell by the look in Onuric’s eyes that he was aware of it.

  They traded blows, Edric’s abdomen aching, reminded of the injuries he suffered while in Isavo. Every strike Onuric landed to Edric’s side sent waves of stabbing pain through his recently healed ribs, taking all of his willpower to keep from doubling over. He had to stay alert. Onuric would kill him if given the chance.

  Suddenly Edric felt his feet slip out from under him. Onuric moved with such speed and precision that he was difficult to follow, Edric’s eyes not registering as he crouched low, sweeping his leg around to take Edric to the ground. There was no give to the icy floor, the impact unforgiving against Edric’s back. Onuric was to him instantly, his arms wrapped around Edric’s head and neck, squeezing tightly to hold him in place. His grip was impressive. Strong. Nothing Edric did could break his grasp, the air to his lungs cut off by the harsh chokehold. Neomi was screaming something that he couldn’t make out. All he could think about was trying to inhale, gagging from his inability to breathe. He was suffocating. If he couldn’t break free soon, he was going to die.

  Onuric and Neomi were shouting at one another. In a sudden shift of his arms Onuric moved his forearm away from Edric’s neck. He barely had a chance to draw in a breath when the hands returned, positioned securely over his head, bracing against his chin and the back of his skull. It would only require a sharp twist from Onuric to render Edric’s neck broken.

  Neomi’s cries were becoming more insistent. A loud crack near Edric’s ear was the only thing he heard as Onuric’s hands fell away, followed by a dull thud somewhere behind him. Eyes closed, he sat for a moment, unsure if the sound he’d heard was the breaking of his bones or if he was somehow miraculously still alive. Clutching at his neck he found himself free of Onuric’s grip, spinning around in search of what had saved him. He was shocked to see Neomi straddled over Onuric, pummeling him wildly with her fists. Onuric’s hands were raised to block her incessant blows, making no move to counter her attacks. She wasn’t the one he wanted to fight. “You dare strike me for the sake of that man?” he demanded, reaching out to place his palms squarely against her chest, shoving her away from him. She toppled to one side, fingers grasping at his shirt, pulling Onuric back down with her.

  Fearful of what would happen if he didn’t interfere, Edric rushed forward to join the fight again, tearing Onuric away from Neomi. The fight was between them. Neomi was only placing herself in danger by involving herself in it. Onuric wouldn’t let the matter go until the match was finished. With all of his strength he sent Onuric into the wall, a crack from the ice echoing through the passageway. From up above a chunk of ice fell to the ground at their feet. Edric looked up into the darkness, his heart racing at the thought of the entire cave collapsing on top of them. “We cannot settle this here,” he said through heavy breaths, holding his hands up defensively toward Onuric.

  “We will settle this now,” he spat. In a powerful lunge he leapt away from the wall, tackling Edric in attempts to take him to the ground again. Edric was prepared for it, bracing himself, using Onuric’s body to support his weight as he shot his legs backward to avoid Onuric’s grasp. Lifting his arm he brought his elbow down hard against Onuric’s back, sending him face-first into the snow.

  It was a brief window for Edric to regain his bearings. They were getting nowhere. Onuric would bring the whole place down on top of them if he didn’t calm himself. There had to be a way to defeat him. Or at least restrain him. The one thing Edric knew for certain was that he had no intention of killing Onuric. That alone would make his task more difficult.

  By the time Onuric was back on his feet, Edric was ready for him. He needed to fight smart. Cautious. Mindful of every move Onuric made. It was too easy for him to place Onuric on a pedestal, believing him to be the superior fighter. In truth, there was no way to know which one of them had the advantage. Their styles were opposite. Callum had proven on more
than one occasion that Cadell’s teachings could overcome the practices of the Ovatai. That had been made obvious whenever Ewei pushed him into physical confrontation. And against the Ythes, Edric found himself more than capable of taking them on. Onuric couldn’t be much different. A little stronger, perhaps. Better trained. Intimidation played the largest role when faced with a man of his stature. He was the son of the Chief and heir to the It’aryn family which would cause most Ovatai warriors to back down from the fight, but Onuric held no power over Edric. There was no reason for him to fear the man.

  Strike after strike they continued, adrenaline coursing through Edric’s limbs, negating the numbness he suffered for so long due to the cold. Keeping his guard up along his centerline Edric parried Onuric’s punches with minimal effort, searching his opponent with a scrutinizing eye for any sign of an opening. Onuric’s upper body was solid. Every punch was followed by another, the lead hand extending while the back hand remained as a constant shield against Edric’s attempts to break through. It was his legs that Edric took an interest in. Onuric paid them little mind, leaving himself vulnerable to someone with an eye for the flaws. Edric could only hope he was skilled enough to exploit them.

  Never taking his eyes from his opponent Edric let his front leg slip between Onuric’s stance, following him, keeping the position despite Onuric’s attempts to back away. The hands were a distraction. While Onuric was focused on the flurry of punches shared between them, Edric was carefully sliding into position, hooking his foot behind Onuric’s ankle. He waited until Onuric’s weight shifted forward before he pushed his knee against the inside of Onuric’s leg, causing it to buckle under the pressure. Onuric looked puzzled at first, lifting his leg to try and regain his balance. This was Edric’s chance. Stepping forward again Edric placed his other leg behind Onuric’s, hooking it around the ankle. In a desperate effort Onuric brought his left arm in a cross punch at Edric’s head, the strike caught by Edric’s waiting hands. With a hard pull he let Onuric’s momentum carry the arm across, holding the wrist to guide him further to the side. Sinking his weight Edric used the palm of his right hand against Onuric’s hip to trip him over the foot still in place behind his ankle.

  Unable to catch his balance Onuric stumbled backward, landing hard on his back. Edric gave no pause, moving to kneel over Onuric’s chest. Everything happened so fast. The next thing Edric knew he had the knife drawn from his belt, the blade pressed to Onuric’s throat. Neomi’s frantic cries had changed, no longer pleading with Onuric to stop; instead she now begged for Edric to spare her brother. He wanted to look at her. To tell her everything would be alright. But he couldn’t. If he gave Onuric the opportunity to get free, he would take it. There was no doubt in Edric’s mind about that.

  The two of them remained motionless, eyes locked on the other, neither one daring to move. Onuric was dumbfounded. Astonished to have been taken down by a foreigner. Edric could read the confusion on his face, contorted in an expression of shock and anger. And respect. Although faint, it was visible. Just not enough for Edric to believe it safe to let him go.

  A gentle hand at his shoulder broke his concentration, Neomi’s fingers reaching out to clasp his hand, drawing the knife away from Onuric’s throat. He made no move to stop her, allowing her arms to guide him to his feet. Defensive, she positioned herself between the two men, arms held out at her sides, glancing from one to the other, tensed and ready to react if anyone moved. “That is enough!” she stated firmly, stomping her foot in a display of authority. Narrowing her eyes she turned her attention on Onuric, moving toward him with a vehement stride. “You have no place to involve yourself in this matter, Onuric. I know you want only to protect me but the punishment of a foreign dignitary – our closest ally – is in the power of no one but the Chief. Do not overstep your bounds.”

  “You overstep your bounds in telling me what to do!” Onuric hissed. Irritably he climbed to his feet, wiping a trickle of blood from his lip. “I have defended you against the rumors of impropriety because you promised me I had nothing to fear from these men. And with this one,” he pointed at Edric, “He is the one I warned you about from the start and you assured me… why, Neomi? Why would you do this?”

  “I will not discuss the matter in front of everyone,” Neomi frowned, slowly lowering her arms back to her sides. In the dim light reflected through the passage from Neomi and Onuric, a red mark could be seen on her left cheek, spreading outward to just below the eye and down to her mouth. A cut was visible on her lower lip, the area already starting to swell. Edric wanted to go to her and tend the injuries but he knew that would be a mistake. They would have to be extremely careful in one another’s company from this point on. Onuric would never allow them anywhere near each other without a fight.

  Fists clenched at his sides, Onuric gritted his teeth, fighting with himself over how to proceed. The chaos of his thoughts could be seen through the flashing blue of his eyes. In that moment he looked miserable. Tormented. Edric felt sorry for him, understanding the desire he possessed to protect his sister. Had the roles been reversed and it was Aiva caught with Onuric, Edric couldn’t say with any certainty that he wouldn’t have reacted the same way. The Ovatai were simply more prone to violence when it came to settling matters.

  “Very well,” he grumbled. “Consider our exploration finished for the day. Neomi, you will come with me to set up camp elsewhere. Ewei, you guard the entrance to this passage. Tell me immediately if either of these men tries to escape. As far as I’m concerned, they are our prisoners until we return to Nahedu.”

  “As you wish,” Ewei nodded obediently, a devious smirk passing over his lips from where he stood in the shadows. A rustle of fabric from his direction revealed Ehren stumbling forward, released from Ewei’s arms with a careless shove. Edric caught him before he fell, helping his brother to regain his balance.

  Oh, how he hated that man. Had it been Ewei who attacked him instead of Onuric, Edric believed he would have killed him. He had been a thorn in their side from the moment they first laid eyes on him. Working to destroy everything they tried to accomplish. Why he was still alive continued to boggle Edric’s mind. Onuric knew the man was a traitor. So why would he trust him? The man wouldn’t think twice about killing them all while they slept and now he was being placed on guard over them? Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done about it. Onuric would never listen to anything Edric said and Ehren would be treated with the same disdain simply for being Vor’shai.

  Lips pursed, he bit his tongue to keep from voicing his opinion out loud. It was safer not to spark Onuric’s ire beyond what he’d already done. Stepping protectively in front of Ehren he kept his chin held high as Ewei walked away. Onuric grabbed Neomi gruffly by the arm, pulling her forward with him down the passageway, leaving Edric and Ehren alone in the darkness.

  Maneuvering along the passageway Onuric guided Neomi forward, pausing when he felt they were a safe enough distance from the others, his arms throwing Neomi to the ground in a heap. “You disgust me!” he shouted, wiping his hands over the front of his shirt as if to clean them from some invisible taint. “It makes my stomach turn to touch you, knowing you let that man near you. Tell me it’s not all true, Neomi. Tell me you have not shared a bed with that foreigner.”

  “I can tell you that if you wish me to lie,” she sighed heavily, leaning against the wall in defeat. She wasn’t sure what to do anymore. Onuric was never supposed to find out. Her goal in coming here was to convince Edric to run away with her. That would never be possible now. Onuric would never let his eyes off them long enough. And it was only going to get worse! He would hold Edric captive until they returned to Nahedu and the news could be relayed to their father. There would be no saving him then. Her father would keep his word in having Edric killed.

  Onuric fell silent, turning to face her in disbelief. “So it is true?” he whispered. “You have lain with that man? Why, Neomi? After all my warnings… about that very scoundrel… to which you assu
red me you would not fall to his trickery. I knew he would set his sights on you and I, like a fool, trusted you when you promised not to succumb to him.”

  “You misunderstand the way of things.” It hurt her to realize how true her statement was. Onuric would never grasp the truth. He didn’t know the word love. It was nothing but letters to him.

  “Misunderstand?” he scoffed. “The man took advantage of you.”

  “He did no such thing!” Neomi grimaced, bringing her knees into her chest. This feeling was abysmal. Nothing she could think of would help. The more she thought on it, the more hopeless it seemed. They would vilify Edric regardless of whether the blame was truly his. It was what family did when one of their own was in trouble. What she wished they knew was that Edric had done nothing wrong. He told her no when she came to him that night. His head was making the right decision while she toyed with his heart. And now they both would pay for it.

  Onuric gave an exasperated snort, folding his arms across his chest. “No such thing? I told you of his way with women. I warned you of the way he wrapped them around his finger.”

  “And you also said that he did not do so with malicious intent. Your very words indicated he was unaware of the control he had over them.”

  “That does not justify it!” he shouted. “He must know! I refuse to believe that his interest in you was purely coincidence. You are the daughter of the Chief. A fine conquest for one of their despicable games.”

  “Games? Does this look like a game to you, Onuric? What man would be foolish enough to take you on in a fight if he did not think it was a battle worth dying for? Do you have any idea why he volunteered to come here with you in the first place?”

  “Glory, I’m sure. It is all their people care about.”

  Her heart pounded hard against her chest, doing nothing to ease her frustration. Onuric had it all wrong! He claimed to be so knowledgeable in the ways of the world yet he couldn’t be more wrong about the Vor’shai. Though Sahra exhibited the traits Onuric spoke of, the rest of the men had acted with nothing but courage and selflessness. Onuric’s own wife wouldn’t be alive had it not been for them. “He came here to die,” she stated flatly, sinking lower against the wall. To hear her voice say the words made it more real. More terrifying. And he’d been unwilling to sway from his decision.