I came back up off my knees and hit him like a wall. Both hands. The full weight of me, injured shoulder and exhaustion and every drop of fury I had left driving him back and back until his legs went out and he hit the ground hard enough to bounce.
My blade was at his throat before he stopped moving.
Then Rowena’s sword joined mine, the smaller tip edged under Dallin’s ear, prepared to drive into the side of his neck if I faltered. I had no intention of faltering. We’d taken down the leader of our enemies without killing him.
Without ensuring more vengeance from Callor.
“Yield,” I rasped, in a voice weary and heartsick.
Dallin’s eyes went to Rowena and saw the moment he understood that killing me wouldn’t end this. That there would still be her.
He let his hands fall open, allowed his sword to fall to the dirt.
“I yield,” he said.
No joy went through me at the words, and myKteerdidn’t allow me to rest in victory. Instead, I threw my head back and roared.
“Battleborn! Battleborn!”
Around us, the sounds of battle slowly faded as the individual fights slowed, each warrior confused as to which clan I was shouting for. The perils of cousins fighting cousins, I supposed.
As more of Dallin’s warriors realized he’d been beaten and was in danger, more battleaxes hit the ground, more swords were sheathed. None of them wanted to be responsible for the death of Callor’s grandson…or mayhap he didn’t engender as much respect as he’d hoped.
‘Twas over.
I met Rowena’s eyes as we both stood over our fallen enemy. My gaze took her in hungrily. The blood on her blades. The cut in her bodice from an enemy’s blade, which I hadn’t seen until this moment and which I was going to think about for a very long time.
She was alive.
She was here.
Thank fook.
Now seemed an appropriate time for the battle rage to seep from me, and I exhaled. Trusting her to hold Dallin in place, I stepped away, raising my own blade over my head.
“Yer leader has yielded!” I bellowed, and a roar of victory rose from the throats of my warriors.
When I saw Maardok limping toward me, bleeding from his thigh, I rushed to offer him my shoulder.
“Sevren?” I asked under my breath.
“He’ll live. We both will, with a few extra scars.” He nodded to my chest, then my cheek, where I was bleeding from cuts I hadn’t noticed until then. “Thank the gods.”
I breathed a silent prayer of thanks that my brothers were safe. But I steeled myself for worse news.
“And the others? How many did we lose?”
Maardok shook his head sadly. “I saw Bogtam go down, and Fennin beside him. There’s more, I ken it, but hopefully Matthias can keep the wounded alive.”
My heart ached for our clan, our family.
“Ye defeated him.” Maardok nodded to Dallin, who glared up at us from where he lay supine, Rowena’s blade at his throat. “He yielded?”
“Aye.”
I moved to my fallen enemy and offered my hand.
“And he’s an honorable male, so he’ll keep his word.”
