When We Were Dancing (The Wolf of Oberhame Book 2)

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When We Were Dancing (The Wolf of Oberhame Book 2) Page 32

by Auryn Hadley


  "He picked a good fight to use," Ilario muttered.

  Connall murmured agreement. "Yes, they did. Wonder how they thought to do that?"

  "You?" Leyli asked.

  He smiled. "Yeah. Ilario made a point of imprisoning the enemy forces and sending them home rather than simply slaughtering them. I also thought that it made a good lead in for the story of you."

  From beneath their feet, underneath the stands, came another horn, but this one sounded different. Unlike those used to celebrate and announce, this was a field horn, used for direction. From the looks on the faces around her, Leyli knew the rhythm was not one their army used. The roar of men followed a second later as Rhians surged toward the supposed Norihame guards.

  "To arms!" Crush yelled, and his "men" formed into a cohesive unit.

  The lines hit hard. There were about fifteen men on each side, much less than a real battle, but the screams of pain and the clash of weapons were still deafening. Leyli could only imagine what the real thing had been like. Around them, the citizens of Oberhame were cheering, thrilled to see the destruction. When a dark skinned "Rhian" knocked Crush to the ground, Leyli gasped and surged to her feet, but Tristan caught her shoulder.

  "Hard to watch, huh?" he teased.

  She nodded. "I know those people, Tristan."

  "Yeah." He pointed. "The black man is Death. He's Tore's champion and used to be a Rhian officer. He's good." He looked down at her. "He also knows how to pull a shot."

  "How'd he end up in our games?"

  Tristan chuckled. "Volunteered. They say he has nearly three hundred wins."

  "He's the one that spit at the man who tried to give him a rudis?" Her eyes brightened as she looked back at the skit playing out violently.

  "Yep. He said he'll sign up again. I fought with him once, when he was technically a novice. He deserted from the Rhian army, and this is his only protection, since he doesn't need to use his real name."

  Connall took a deep breath, staring. "They all have a story, don't they? Every man down there is just a person. It's so easy to forget when the crowd starts roaring."

  That's when Gregori interrupted. "Lion," he hissed.

  Tristan turned with a smile. "See a move you like?"

  "No." Gregori tilted his head toward the stands beside them. "I think I'm insane."

  "We already knew that." Tristan moved the handful of steps to his side. "What?"

  "Crowd's shifting." Gregori looked back at the nobles. His face was too calm. "It's a few at a time, but I'm sure of it. There's dozens of men all moving closer to the box."

  "Armando, Horace, Edwyn," Tristan snapped. "Watch the crowd."

  Temotio moved toward the back. "Goban, Aldo, check the stairs."

  Ignoring the shocked looks of the guests in the box, Tristan called over the King's head. "Bettino, watch the crowd! They're shifting."

  "Sure it's not for a better view?" Bettino asked, gesturing for the King's guards to close up on the left side.

  Tristan's eyes were searching the seats. "No, but I'm not willing to risk any of them."

  Leyli watched. While the Norihame army fought bravely below, men moved in the stands. They were always in small groups, but all of them wore heavy clothing. It was just a bit more than the weather warranted, and could be explained away by the expectation of a cooler night, but Gregori was right. Two here, five there, they were slowly coming together.

  "Dad, are you armed?" Leyli asked.

  The King leaned back, looking as if he had no concerns. "Minimally. Relax, Leyli. People are watching you, and if you worry, then they will. Enjoy the games."

  "I've never enjoyed the games."

  "So fake it." Her dad smiled at her. "We have fourteen elite guards around us, and two wolves. Relax. You can't change anything."

  Then Temotio sucked in a breath. "Palino," he said, letting it out. "Brown tunic, near the stairs."

  "I see him," Tristan growled.

  Suddenly Dario stood. Letting out a shrill, piercing whistle - the same type he used to call in the horses - he waved his arms. Leyli followed his eyes. On the far side, near the front row, a young boy stood on his chair to wave back. Dario made a large circle over his head with one arm, then tapped his skull. He nodded, then pointed twice, similar to the guard's signal to move. The boy paused, then jumped down and grabbed the arm of the woman beside him. She waved back enthusiastically before rushing toward the stairs.

  "That's my sister," Dario announced loudly. "And little brother. He wants to meet you, Highness."

  Leyli gave him a confused look. "I'd love to meet him."

  Then he sat and leaned back, just like Ilario. His next words were under his breath. "I also just told him to round up the King, go to fighters. Hopefully he'll figure out that I mean call the guard."

  Leyli's heart hung. "They're all outside the arena. There wasn't enough room inside."

  "Yeah." He turned to her. "And the first thing a rebellion will do is close off the gates. They won't have a clue, because it already sounds like fighting in here, and those men are bugling Norihame orders. Palino, you sly fuck."

  "He's going to try to kill us." Leyli felt the tingle over her skin. The same one she always got just before walking onto the sands. She might not live out the day. "He's going to slaughter us to get the crown, then blame the citizens of Oberhame for the rebellion."

  Astrid grabbed her arm. "Let him try," she growled. "Let the bastard show the people what he really is. He can't stop the Wolf."

  Leyli turned, her eyes finding the men below. "The Gladiator Queen. That's what the fighters called me this morning." She leaned forward and smiled. "Dad? We have an army. One hundred of them."

  Ilario didn't get the chance to respond. To her right, Gregori's cry broke through the cheers of the crowd. "To Arms! Protect the Wolf!"

  Turning, Leyli saw three men slam into her guards. Tristan roared, hacking at one. Gregori was silent, ducking back to avoid the first swing, his sword sliding up to take his place and finding the man's gut. Armando and Horace filled the gap on either side and Edwyn rushed to Leyli.

  "Wolf!" he yelled, pulling the spare sword for her. "More coming!"

  Her hand found the hilt and she scrambled to Tristan's side. With the first rush, all pretense was off. The crowd of enthusiastic citizens surged to their feet, almost half of them turning to the box. The other half were scrambling for safety. From beneath heavy shirts and thin cloaks, weapons appeared. There had to be at least thirty on this side alone. Behind her, as if in a fog, Leyli heard her father's men sounding the alarm.

  She tried to find her place before the Lion, but for the first time, he pushed her back. His eyes never left the threat. "Behind me, pup. Guard my back."

  Around them, the common citizens were screaming. The first three men were dead, cut down before Leyli was even armed, but there were more. There were a lot more, and they were organizing fast.

  "There's no threat from the back," she snapped.

  The corner of his lip curled slightly. "Without a shield, you stay behind me, Ley." He finally looked at her. "Far behind me."

  Before she could scream at him, Gregori grabbed her shoulder. "Leyli." He pointed into the crowd. As one of the men pulled his sword, his shirt was exposed. Across the breast was his house crest. It was easy to make out the Lanmont dragon.

  Anger surged inside her. "Palino!" she screamed, looking for his face in the crowd. "Are my balls that much bigger than yours?"

  The sound of her voice made heads turn. Leyli could bellow. She could address the citizens of an entire town. When she wanted to be heard, she knew how to do it, and she wanted her cousin to be held accountable. Below, on the sands, the fighters heard, looking up to check the excitement. It wasn't hard to see what was happening. Like a writhing mass of bodies, Palino's men were closing in, leaving the other side of the stands sparse. The battle lines were drawn, and for once, the biggest fight wasn't on the arena floor - it was above.

  From below, men star
ted yelling, "Hold!" The fighters slowed, then stopped, turning to watch helplessly as their savior was being attacked. The high walls meant to protect the citizens from the fighters was doing just that, but Leyli realized it didn't have to. She turned, leaning over the rail.

  "Crush!"

  "Wolf!" He called back, jogging through the Rhian line.

  Her eyes moved over the men below. "Help me!" She glanced back at Astrid. "Trust me?"

  "Better hurry!" Gregori said.

  Astrid nodded and moved to Leyli's side. "What am I doing?"

  "Flying. When you get down, tell them I need help getting my men onto the sands. Tell them to catch us." She looked over at Tristan. "All of us. I need an army, and they're it."

  Without a word, Astrid swung her leg over the rail. "Like jumping into the creek."

  But Dario was there before she could leap. He grabbed her hand. "Let's get you lower. I got you."

  Her other hand closed on his wrist, and Astrid stepped back. Dario grunted, taking her weight, but the men rushed beneath her. When he nodded, Astrid closed her eyes and just let go. Her dress fluttered for a moment, then she landed in the arms of Death. He smiled at her before placing her on the ground. Pushing her hair back, Astrid began pointing, telling the fighters everything she knew. Above, Leyli couldn't hear, but she didn't need to. She also wasn't the only one who figured out what was going on.

  "Destroy the ursurper!" The voice came from the crowd, and Leyli's eyes followed the sound.

  She saw him. Dressed like a common citizen, Palino leered back. He was sure he'd won. There was no way for her to get out of the box. He had both the King and the Princess surrounded. In his arrogance, he pointed at her.

  "The crown of Norihame belongs to a king," he called out. "The Princess has subverted her father's mind. She must pay! Destroy her before she ruins Norihame!"

  Like a wave of sound, his men roared, charging the narrow entrances to the box. The guards braced. Across the arena, people screamed, running from the violence. Leyli lifted her chin. She was a wolf. She was terrified and cornered, and that made her dangerous. The difference was that she wasn't alone. Tristan was with her. Live or die, they'd do it together.

  Chapter 46

  While Leyli blocked swords from hitting Tristan, Dario yelled behind her. Over and over, he and Connall worked to lower the women for the gladiators below to catch. There weren't many, only the guests of the minor nobles her father had invited. She dared to look down and saw the gladiators moving them into the center of the arena.

  "The King," Tristan ordered. "I'll help, cover me."

  He turned, and Leyli filled the gap he left. Gregori moved before her without asking. Three men deep, they guarded the opening into their box while Tristan and Dario forced the King toward the rail. For the first time, all signs of respect were gone.

  "I'm standing!" Ilario snapped. "Get Leyli over the wall."

  Tristan pushed him forward. "Until you can block over your head, shut it. The Wolf is next."

  "Not without you," Leyli said. "Connall first."

  "The King first." Tristan pointed. "Ilario, you climb over, or I throw your ass down there. Choose quickly."

  Ilario obeyed. There was no denying the sound of Tristan's voice. The Lion of Lenlochlien was adamant. Ilario yanked the crown from his head and swung his leg over the heavy railing. "For Norihame," he cried, tossing the crown into the sea of common fighters.

  "The King!" they yelled back, surging forward.

  When Ilario jumped, there was no chance of him hitting the ground. Two men caught him roughly, but it was good enough. It also enraged the men trying to break through their line. Armando lurched back and Leyli raised her sword. From the side, a man hacked, not caring what he hit. The blade slashed toward her. In slow motion, Leyli knew she couldn't move in time.

  Suddenly, Gregori was there. His sword caught the edge, his body slammed her back, but she heard it. Like a cudgel on wet meat, his flesh tore as he took the blow meant for her. Leyli screamed, grabbing her friend as he fell.

  Connall shouldered her aside, taking his weight. "I got him. Guard the door, Leyli. I'll take care of him."

  "Is it bad?" Gregori asked.

  "It's not good. Dario! We need to get him down."

  "Wounded!" Dario yelled.

  Leyli couldn't look. She'd already made one mistake, and someone else had paid for it. She couldn't afford another. The space was too close, too tight, but it took all of them to hold back the mass of bodies pressing toward them. She could heard the men moving behind her. She knew they were doing something, and then Connall groaned.

  "Don't you dare die," he gasped, sounding burdened.

  Leyli dared a look. Her husband held her guard, Tristan and Dario steadying him as he balanced on the wrong side of the rail. Connall closed his eyes and the men let go. When his feet left the small ledge, the Prince of Norihame yelped like a startled child, but he did not let go of his charge. Below, the victory flag of Norihame was held clutched between four men. It sagged as Connall and Gregori slammed into it, but it did not tear.

  "Your turn, Dario," Tristan ordered.

  Shaking his head, Leyli's brother grabbed the sword Gregori had dropped. "Leyli first."

  "She can fight."

  "So can I, and I'll never rule."

  Temotio settled it. "Get the Princess out of here."

  Tristan snarled, but obeyed. He turned to Leyli but she shook her head. "No! I'm not leaving you."

  A smile began to spread on Tristan's face. "Yeah, pup, you are." Before she could duck, he grabbed her. "And don't you dare punch me in the balls."

  "Tristan!"

  "I love you. Just in case I don't make it down."

  Then, with barely any effort, he tossed her like she was just a sack of grain. Shocked, the sword fell from her hands and the air buffeted her dress. Her eyes held his face, though. For those few seconds that felt like an eternity, Leyli tried to memorize everything about him. They weren't meant to be apart. They couldn't be. He was supposed to stand beside her to the end.

  The air rushed out of her lungs as she collided with something solid. For a moment time stood still, then Leyli gasped, sucking in a deep breath. It smelled like leather and copper. Looking up, she saw Crush.

  "Weapons are in the middle. Careful of the gates. We're locked in. Welcome to the fight, Wolf."

  He set her down and Leyli ran, claiming a shield. She couldn't find a sword short enough in her style, but there was one close enough. Deciding it would do, she set about preparing for battle. The first cut pierced the fabric over her knees. The second let her rip it free. With her hands frantic, she twisted her mane above her head and tied it with the leftover material, her eyes locked on the royal box. When the sword dropped beside her, she jumped.

  Plague grinned. "You dropped it, Wolf."

  "How'd you get in here?"

  He cocked his head back. "Some of us can get under the gates if we try hard enough. Let's go."

  She grabbed the hilt, the sand against her palm securing her grip, and stood. Moments before, she'd been a princess, but now she was a gladiator. Her cousin thought he could steal the country from the people who deserved it. The crown was never her father's, and it would never be hers. They merely bore it for those who worked so hard. They were the representatives of the common men and women of Norihame, and she would die before she let a tyrant take that away.

  "Palino!" she yelled, searching for him. "You want my crown, then come take it from my head! All you have up there are guards who mean nothing."

  The enemy was closing in on the box. They'd breached the doors and pushed the men back, but one by one, Leyli's friends were dropping over the edge. They didn't wait, they just jumped. Each time, a gladiator made sure to break their fall. It wasn't always pretty, but it worked well enough. The royal family had found their retreat and it wasn't what anyone had expected.

  "Kill the Lion," Palino ordered. "Then take the sands."

  "Fuck," Plague
hissed before rushing away.

  Leyli looked after him. Plague had never been a coward, but he ran to the far side of the arena, his feet kicking up tufts of dust in his rush. When he reached the gate, he slammed into it, grasping the wood desperately. He pointed back toward them, nodded, then turned, jogging back with a smile.

  "For the Gladiator Queen," he cried. "We fight, we die, but for once, we do it for a reason!"

  Behind her, Crush took up the call. "For the Gladiator Queen!"

  The fighters roared, smacking their swords on their shields or bracers. The cacophony became deafening, but it worked. The men above could no longer ignore them. Large groups broke off, heading to the stairs to disappear from sight. Through it all, Leyli heard something crash.

  The gate! The same gate Plague had rushed to was shivering from within. Dust fell with each concussion. Through the bars, Leyli could see the mismatched armor and the bare skin of her men. Her men! The gladiators were trying to break through the gates!

  Above, only three men remained. Back to back, Temotio, Dario, and Tristan fought as hard as they could. Leyli's feet pulled her closer, as if proximity could change what was happening. Then, suddenly, Dario turned and pushed. Temotio hit the rail and twisted. For a moment she thought he would fight it, then he leaned into the fall. The man beneath crumpled as he caught the guard, but more moved to lift them up.

  "Lion!" Leyli yelled, desperate. "Tristan!"

  He probably couldn't even hear her. With a sword in each hand, he fought, roaring his anger with each swing. A man dropped before him, but another just took his place. Skin and blood were visible through the cuts in his armor, his sleeves were rent to pieces, but he fought like a beast. When one of Palino's men tried to reach around Dario to strike the Lion, her brother howled, sounding just like an Aravatti.

  Side by side, they were monsters, but it wasn't enough. There were too many. Leyli stared, panicked, sure that she was about to see her lover die before her eyes, then Dario decided to change the rules.

  He slashed out wildly, forcing the enemy back, and lunged. His arm caught Tristan's shoulders. His weight, nearly that of the Lion, sailed over the railing. Slowly, Tristan twisted, falling, then he shoved at Dario.

 

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