The Weight of Blood (The Half-Orcs, #1)(29)

Harruq sighed and looked away. He gently tapped his swords together. “I don’t know. Bored.”

“Am I not a challenge?”

He made vague shrug that could be taken either way. Let her think that was it, he thought. It was a whole lot better than the truth. Aurelia, however, seemed none too pleased. She twirled her staff again.

“You might be surprised, orcyboy, but I could beat you in a spar.”

Harruq scoffed. “You have no chance,” he said.

“First to three hits,” the elf said, taking a few steps back.

“Very well,” Harruq said, drawing his swords in his gigantic arms. “Guess you need a reminder of who you’re learning from.” He lowered his weapons and thrust out his chest. “Here. I’ll prove it. Two free hits. I’ll still beat you.”

Aurelia eyed him, obviously insulted. She gave him two quick raps across the chest.

“Two to zero,” she said before dancing away. Harruq raised his swords and roared.

He crossed the distance between them in a heartbeat, twice as fast as he had ever moved in their previous sparring matches. Aurelia leapt backward as blades dove for her chest and abdomen. Her staff shot spun back and forth to parry thrust after thrust. Harruq pressed his attack, shifting on one foot so that his next two attacks came slashing downward for her thigh and ankle.

The staff blocked one but the other banged against her calf.

“One to two,” Harruq said. He double thrust, offering the elf no reprieve. She jabbed her staff upward, pushing the two attacks high and giving her room underneath. Ducking forward, she tried to strike the half-orc’s leg.

She badly underestimated Harruq’s new speed though, and one blade looped around to block the attack. The other went straight down, the edge smashing hard against the top of Aurelia’s skull. While it did not draw blood, the jolt of it knocked the elf to one knee and gave her a dull ache in her head.

“Have you lost your mind?” Aurelia asked as she rolled away. Harruq’s mad charge was her answer, and it sparked fear in her heart.

Sword strikes assailed her impossibly fast. Any thought of the fight being practice left Aurelia’s mind. It felt too real. She stayed defensive, parrying with all her skill while constantly dancing away. Harruq pressed closer, and every time the elf pulled out of a roll or landed from a leap backward, he was upon her. Notch after notch covered her staff as the swords chopped harder and harder.

His strength grew as the fight progressed. He held nothing back. He weaved his swords through three stabs, feinted a high slash, and then twirled up and around for a low thrust. Aurelia fell for the feint and brought her staff up high, leaving her lower half exposed. Her slender frame twisted. A sword cut a thin line across the green fabric of her dress but did not touch skin.

She thought Harruq might stop and claim the cut counted. He didn’t.

Instead he crosscut, his left arm swiping right while the other swept left. She turned to one side, using her staff to press one sword into the dirt and knock the second swipe just above her. The staff continued twirling, positioning Harruq’s hands further out of place. She used the awkwardness to gain further separation between them.

Her hands ached from the force of every block and parry. Her breath was fast and shallow. Her hair, which she had failed to tie up before the fight, hung in wild strands before her face. She was beautiful, but Harruq did not see it.

To Harruq, she was the young girl cradling her sister.

Aurelia thrust her right hand forward, her fingers spread wide and stiff. Words of power poured from her lips, and without hesitation the forest obeyed. Vines shot from the earth and wrapped around Harruq’s arms and legs. Down he went. Aurelia gave him no chance to recover. She raised her outstretched hand higher. More and more vines appeared, covering the half-orc’s arms and legs with green. They lifted him into the air, his boots dangling two feet above the ground.

Harruq bellowed like a bull caught in a cage. He jerked against his restraints but they held firm. Aurelia calmly walked over, raised her staff, and tapped him on the chest.

“Three,” she said.

The half-orc roared his protest.

Aurelia swung the staff with all her strength. The end cracked against Harruq’s cheek. Blood shot from his mouth.

“Four!” she shouted. The fierce pain appeared to knock some sense into him. He looked down at Aurelia with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“Sorry,” he said. Blood ran from a busted lip. The skin on his cheek was already blackening.

“I don’t know what just happened,” she said, the quiver in her voice belying her calm speech. “But I know I don’t like it and will not accept it. Ever. Is that clear?”

“Yeah,” Harruq said. “Now will you let me down?”

For a moment, she said nothing, catching her breath and doing her best to calm the flood of adrenaline that still rushed through her. Harruq twisted against the vines, but they still held firm. Blood continued to trinkle down his chin.

“I’m not blind,” she said, suddenly looking away. “Not stupid, either. I don’t know why I’m here. Lie to me if you must, just don’t expect me to believe it. Forgive me for hoping you could trust me.”

The vines released, freeing the half-orc who smacked against the ground. By the time he picked himself up, the vines had pulled into the dirt.