Firestorm by Aaron Hodges

Author:Aaron Hodges [Hodges, Aaron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy
Publisher: Aaron Hodges
Published: 2016-06-14T06:00:00+00:00

Thirteen

Enala tried to conceal the trembling in her legs as they walked through the Baronian camp. Around her the men and woman stared, fear and pity in their eyes. A few might have shown a hint of awe, but it was quickly hidden when she turned their way, and left her wondering if it was just her imagination.

She gave a mental shake of her head. It didn’t matter. These people were slaves to this life, trapped by the black garments they wore to represent their ‘freedom.’ They were blind to the poverty in which they lived, the pitiful state of their holy tents and wretched wagon village. Their tattered clothes would be useless in the winter, and she guessed many would not live to see the spring.

Enala refused to be trapped in their cycle of suffering. She would fight and win, or die.

Ahead the crowds parted, revealing a circle of brown grass lit by bonfires. The moon and stars hid behind dark clouds, the sky a blank canvas. They would fight by the light of the flames. Enala made a mental note to be wary; she could easily be blinded by their light.

Eric walked beside her, his face blank, unreadable. Enala rubbed her hands together to ward off the chill, still trying to hide her nerves. She could show no fear here. Thaster would feed on it, and he needed no extra advantage. Although in truth, her fear was more for Eric than her own life. She held his life in her hands as well as her own. One stumble, and it would cost them both.

Laurel came behind, her boots scuffing on the hard ground. Enala could almost feel her anger, prickling at her back like needles. It hung over them like a blanket, suffocating. That at least she could shrug off. The Magicker meant nothing to her.

As they entered the ring, Enala turned to Eric and hugged him. She felt the trembling in his body, and knew hers must be shaking too. She hoped no one else could see it.

“Don’t go dying on me,” Eric whispered.

Enala struggled to hold back tears. “I won’t,” the words caught in her throat. She gave a quick nod and turned away. She had to focus. From behind her she heard the thud of Eric and Laurel’s footsteps as they moved away.

She walked into the circle, eyes flicking around in search of her opponent. She did not have to look far.

Thaster came marching into the light, dust rising up behind him as his boots thumped the dry grass. The dust glistened in the firelight, casting it in red and orange, and it seemed a cloud of embers trailed in his wake. He held his greatsword in one hand, its five-foot blade reaching for her. The other hand he raised above his head, as though this fight had already been won. Which, Enala had to admit as she stared up at him, might be as good as true.

But she refused to be cowed. She flashed the brute a toothy grin, knowing she must look a madwoman.

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