The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(102)

Dortak retreated five steps all the while bellowing in rage.

The crowd, however, went wild with sheer glee.

Someone close to the front shouted, “Puntay zan, kah Dax!” End him, my king!

And this shout struck up a chant, Puntay zan! Puntay zan! Puntay zan!

But Lahn wasn’t done playing and when Dortak yanked the blades out of his flesh one by one, tossed them aside and rushed Lahn with his sword raised high, Lahn ducked to avoid his steel but lifted an arm. Grabbing Dortak’s sword hand and keeping it held high, Lahn punched him in the stomach on Dortak’s advance, then delivered a blow to the kidneys at the back, then he whirled, lifted a leg and planted a boot in Dortak’s back at the same time he yanked down on Dortak’s arm so viciously, I could hear the bone break even though I was at least twenty feet away.

The crowd roared at the sound as did Dortak but his cry was of pain. He fell flat on his face and dropped his sword, no longer able to carry the heavy weapon in hand on an arm attached to a fractured shoulder.

Lahn stepped several feet away as Dortak struggled to his healthy (ish) hand then got his knees under him.

“Again, my brother, I’d like to hear it. What did you intend to do with my tigress?” Lahn called and Dortak, on one hand and both knees, turned his head to look over his shoulder and up at Lahn. His face was red, sweating, bloody and twisted not just with hate but with not a small amount of pain. “My golden goddess opened the heavens and commanded their tears when your bride left this earth. She drew a rainbow in the sky to guide her ashes to the next realm. When you fall, the heavens won’t weep and she won’t waste her magic on a rainbow. When your lifeblood hits stone that is the closest you’ll get to the heavens. My golden bride will need to waste no energy in guiding your spirit to eternal agony. Your spirit will know exactly where it’s meant to go.”

With visible effort, Dortak pushed himself to his feet, grunted with pain when he bent to retrieve his sword in his left, non-dominant hand and he lifted it clumsily toward Lahn.

Lahn stared at him. Then he turned only his head to me.

“Are you bored yet?” he enquired.

I kind of wasn’t. It was gruesome but it was also, I had to admit, kind of cool.

But I had the feeling my husband was done so I called out, “Meena, kah Dax. Na weykun kay nahna quaxi. Ta jahnay boonahn keeta jahko. Kay zookay juno.” Yes, my king. You promised me your paint. We have better things to do. I want to play.

At my words the crowd, again, went wild.

Lahn grinned.

I grinned back.

Then with a mighty roar that probably took all the energy he had left, Dortak charged, Lahn’s head turned back then I stopped thinking this was in any way cool and stared in a horror I hoped I hid as my king ended the contest.

With ease, he dodged the charge and disarmed Dortak as he did so. Dortak ran passed Lahn but Lahn didn’t delay. After Dortak came to an awkward stop and whirled lumberingly to face his challenger, Lahn had already swung Dortak’s steel wide and instantly executed a low, powerful, smooth sweep, cutting Dortak off at the knees.

Literally.

With a bellow of agony that hurt to hear even coming from a monster, the legless Dortak again fell to his face.

The crowd, clearly delighted beyond reason with grisly dismemberment, became crazed, their cries, chants and cheers clogging the air.

But Lahn wasn’t done. He bent and used Dortak’s hair to drag the still living but definitely fallen warrior within five feet of my throne, leaving his legs behind. Then Lahn lifted Dortak’s legless body clean in the air, hefting it up with an almighty heave. I forced my eyes to stay open as I stared into the hated, bloody, now pale and agonized face of a man who it could be said was getting his just desserts… in a serious way… before Lahn let his hair go and as his body started its plummet to the ground, fast as lightning, Lahn quickly two-handed Dortak’s sword and swung it in a downward arc, slicing him clean through the neck, Dortak’s body dropping straight to the ground, his head flying off in a sickening gush of blood.

I couldn’t help it, it was so freaking gross, I winced.

Luckily, I didn’t think anyone noticed, not even Lahn. He was staring down at the headless, legless, very, very, very dead body of Dortak and the crowd was going insane.

As was, I was getting, their way, the Korwahk did not delay with completing the festivities. Men ran forward, one grabbed both severed legs, two grabbed an arm each on Dortak’s body and they dragged and carried the carcass pieces out of the clearing, moving toward the pyre. Another man rushed forward with Lahkan, Lahn’s horse and Lahn himself had moved to the head which he snatched up by the tail.

While striding back to his mount, he tossed Dortak’s bloody sword on the platform, it clattered across the wood and his eyes went beyond me to Bain and/or Zahnin.

“Unahyoo see,” he grunted, Melt that. Then his eyes came to me and he reverted to English. “You’ve had enough and will not ride with me. Drink and be cheerful with your people, I will return and we will celebrate.”

I nodded.

He jerked his chin up, attached Dortak’s head by his tail to a stirrup on Lahkan (something which I saw the start of then averted my eyes because, seriously, gross) then without delay, he swung up into the saddle, jerked his reins, Lahkan veered around and Lahn sent his heels into his steed. Immediately, Lahkan burst forward in a full gallop. The crowd had moved in and the clearing was not a clearing anymore but they’d been around these contests enough, they swiftly got out of Lahn’s way but they did it shouting, clapping, punching their fists in the air, pounding them against their chests and generally being boisterous and exceedingly rowdy. A stream of men, women and even children raced after Lahn on Lahkan, likely in hopes to be close when Lahn severed Dortak’s tail so they could claim his head.