The Golden Dynasty (Fantasyland #2)(29)

“Rayloo, kah fauna,” Lahn murmured and kept my face in his neck with his hand cupped on my head and my body in his lap with his strong arm clamped around it.

I lifted a hand and curled it around the other side of his neck. “Kay me ahnoo,” I told him and his arm gave me a squeeze. “Kay me ahnoo,” I repeated on a whisper but he didn’t do anything except for the fact that he didn’t let me go.

I knew it was over when his hand loosened on my head and dropped down to become an arm wrapped around my body.

He still didn’t let me go and he didn’t shove me off his lap and force me between his legs. He just kept me where I was, holding me in his lap. I carefully took my face out of his neck and looked at his profile. He was silently watching the fighters. Then I chanced a look at Dortak. His bride was still between his legs, body facing the fighters but her head was bent, her cheeks flaming and her eyes were directed to the ground.

I turned back and shoved my face in Lahn’s neck.

I felt his chest expand with a big breath that he let out very slowly.

I didn’t want to be there anymore and I curled into him and tried to shut everything out, hoping it would be over soon.

This became impossible when I heard taunting, loud words hurled in what seemed to be our direction. I lifted my face out of Lahn’s neck, turned my head and saw Dortak standing before us, jeering at Lahn, spittle coming out of his mouth, his face red and his fist beating his chest. My eyes darted to his wife who was where he left her on the ground but now curled into herself, arms tight around her legs, eyes peeking from behind her knees.

Lahn said something calmly and I looked up at him to see he looked as calm as his voice then swiftly I looked to Dortak who had not taken to Lahn’s calm very well. He was red in the face and the veins in his neck were standing out as he continued to shout.

What was going on?

Lahn asked him a question to which Dortak spat out a, “Meena!”

Lahn nodded. Then he stood, me in his arms, he set my ass on the bench, his eyes coasted across mine then he straightened and turned.

The instant he did the warriors all rose from their seats, arms up, shouts deafening and they were saying only one word.

“Dax!”

Oh f**k.

Was Lahn going to fight this guy?

Dortak immediately swung a punch, connecting with Lahn’s jaw.

I rose to my feet.

Lahn took two steps back, pointed at me, his finger moved to the bench and he clipped out, “Lutoo! Boh!”

Dortak closed in and connected again, this time with Lahn’s ribs.

I sat, not wanting to divert his attention again but I sat on the edge of the bench and how I stayed on the bench I had no clue since I was shaking like a leaf.

Dortak connected, again, again, again, a quick succession of blows that Lahn didn’t appear even to try to deflect.

Then another one to the face so brutal Lahn’s torso swung around and down, his hand going to the blood that was now dripping from his mouth. Dortak charged to attack but Lahn lifted an elbow, connecting with Dortak’s nose not only with the strength of his arm but Dortak’s momentum. Dortak stumbled back and Lahn went in, palm to throat. He lifted Dortak clean off his feet and slammed him flat on his back on the stone, the crack of his skull hitting the stone sounding with a sickening thud that made my stomach to turn.

The warriors went wild.

Lahn had gone down on a knee to take Dortak to his back and he swiftly moved one leg to put his knee to Dortak’s arm in order to incapacitate it, the other calf he shoved in Dortak’s neck as he twisted the rest of his body to Dortak’s legs. He caught a flailing ankle, yanked the man’s hides back and then he pulled a small knife out of a sheath.

All cheering silenced instantly and I rose again to my feet, the fingers of both hands coming to my mouth.

None of the other fighters had weapons. They used their fists, their feet, their wits… not steel.

Lahn removed his legs from Dortak but swiftly turned and kept him down, one hand wrapped around his throat, the other hand holding the knifepoint aimed a half an inch from his eye.

Then he growled something in his face.

Dortak’s only response was to choke. Lahn was strangling him. Dortak’s face was turning purple and veins were popping out along his temple.

Lahn repeated what he’d growled earlier.

Dortak kept gasping for breath, his hands pushing ineffectually at Lahn’s arm, his legs kicking out.

Lahn repeated what he’d growled.

Dortak made gurgling noises.

Then, quick as a flash, the knife moved and blood covered Dortak’s face as he howled.

I gasped, stepped back and hit bench so stopped.

Lahn pushed off him and up to his feet, tossing the knife down so it landed on Dortak’s chest, bounced off and clattered to the stone ground.

Lahn stared down at him then spit in his direction, the spittle landing on Dortak’s shoulder.

Then he turned and started to me.

I watched him move, my body shaking then I saw Dortak get up, still choking and my body froze as I saw Lahn had carved a deep, gaping, curving gash from temple over cheekbone partially through his lip and across his jaw.

“Lahn,” I whispered and Dortak bent, snatched the knife off the ground, straightened and I shouted, “Lahn!”

Dortak charged and Lahn turned like I hadn’t shouted his name to indicate imminent danger but like I’d suggested he might want to look over his shoulder and observe the flight of a pretty butterfly. Then his arm came up, he caught Dortak’s wrist that was connected to the hand that was carrying the knife, used it to swing him around and caught him around the throat with his other forearm. Lahn then twisted Dortak to facing this bride and he used the knife still in Dortak’s hand to slash another curving, deep gash down the length of Dortak’s chest, down, down nearly to his groin and then he moved Dortak’s hand and sunk the blade in Dortak’s side.