The Nymph King (Atlantis #3)(43)

"Any sword will do," he said. "Any save The Skull."

A pause, then the shield was taken out of his hands. Footsteps. The cool press of the shield's handle. His gold shield, yes, but his sword no longer lay inside of it. A plain, sharp-tipped blade now held the honor. He nodded in approval. This battle was not just about Shaye. Not anymore.

"Your helmet, my king," Broderick said.

"No." He kept his gaze on Joachim. "Not this time."

Broderick frowned. "What of your other armor?"

"No."

"I hope you pound each other to a bloody pulp," Shaye mumbled behind him. "This is stupid."

Her words elicited several male chuckles and several feminine gasps of horror. He suspected that her anger was merely a defense against something she feared. Losing him? He should be upset by her lack of faith, but he was strangely thrilled.

"How dare you say such a thing," the redhead said accusingly.

"She is allowed to say whatever she wants," Valerian informed everyone, "for she will one day be your queen." He tossed her a glance over his shoulder and saw that she now wore an expression of pique. "That doesn't mean I will always give in to her desires. This time, however, I will take great pleasure in granting part of her request."

"I, too, will enjoy granting part of her request," Joachim said.

Valerian scowled at him. He hefted the weight of his spear in one hand, his shield in the other, and stepped into the arena. Determined, he circled Joachim. The man watched him, never slowing his swinging lance. "Shall we begin?"

"We shall. I've wanted to be king for a long time," Joachim admitted.

"I know. But what makes you think you will be a better commander for my army? You are too war-happy, too ravenous for control."

"Such qualities should be lauded."

"Lauded? When the hunger will never be appeased? There will always be someone else to conquer. Were you to rule my army, you would lead them straight into war. In the end, I have every faith you would conquer Atlantis and all the kings and queens inside, but you would also destroy the entire city."

"Better to rule a decimated land than not to rule at all." With a roar, Joachim leapt at him.

Their spears clashed together midair. Immediately Valerian countered, ducking low, pivoting and slashing. He missed as Joachim sliced to the side. Clang. Their spears met again. In the next instant Joachim raised his lance and Valerian rammed it high. He spun, aiming for his cousin's neck.

Joachim darted out of the way with a grin. "Getting slow, Valerian." He removed his helmet and tossed it aside.

Valerian stabbed forward, his spike and shield swinging simultaneously. Joachim quickly lost his smile as he was forced to duck. He stumbled backward. Valerian's spear nearly sank into his stomach, but Joachim blocked, swung. Thrust.

That low thrust grazed Valerian's thigh, slicing cloth rather than skin. Valerian dropped to one knee, absorbing the next blow with his shield. When he regained his footing, he lunged forward. The tip of his weapon whizzed past Joachim's side, taking a hunk of armor with it.

"Still think I'm slow?" Valerian asked.

Their fiery gazes met, blue against bluer, and Joachim scowled. He swung to the left, missed, then swung to the right. As the lance dipped toward the ground, Valerian leapt over its middle, trapping it between his legs and jamming his elbow into Joachim's nose. Blood squirted and Joachim howled as he tripped, falling away from striking distance and flinging dirt in every direction.

"Get up," Valerian commanded.

"You'll pay for that." His cousin jumped to his feet and ran straight at him, continuously stabbing forward.

Valerian circled quickly, shield blocking. His muscles began to burn, and sweat began to run down his face and chest in rivulets. Already his breath emerged in shallow pants. Damn this! At this rate, his strength would be quickly depleted. Lack of sex did that to a nymph.

Looking tired himself, Joachim arched high, intending to puncture his shoulder on the downward swing, but Valerian hit Joachim's wrist and his cousin dropped the spear. At a disadvantage, Joachim dove, rolled and reached for it. His fingers closed around the middle. Maintaining a fluid pace, he spun back to his feet. But Valerian was already there, stomping on the lance and snapping it in two.

Growling low in his throat, Joachim kicked up. His foot slammed into Valerian's wrist and Valerian, too, lost his spear. Both men sprang apart, unsheathing the swords from their shields.

As blood continued to drip down his face, Joachim launched forward, wildly swinging. Air whistled, zinged, just like it had before the battle began. Movements slower than normal, Valerian didn't duck in time. The blade sliced his forearm. He felt the sting of it, the burn of torn flesh.

He didn't give a reaction, didn't allow it to slow him further.

He stabbed low, then up, twisting before Joachim could counter. The tip of his sword whizzed by his cousin's face, and the man paled. He raised his shield and slammed it into Valerian's other arm, the sharp wings cutting skin. Valerian used the momentum to spin around and slice into Joachim's thigh.

His cousin shouted, and his knees buckled into the sand.

"Get up," Valerian snarled. "I'm not through with you."

Gritting his teeth, Joachim lumbered to his feet. He still clutched his weapon and shield. His eyes were dark with rage, his lips swollen with his thirst for power. "I am not through with you, either." He dropped his shield and slid a second dagger from his side.