Wager with a Warrior - Emma Prince Page 0,69

everyone since…

Since his father.

In fact, that was the last time Gregor could remember being so much smaller than his opponent. He’d always been the biggest, strongest man on the battlefield, at tournaments, and lately in his wee alehouse scuffles.

He blinked, willing his gaze to remain sharp on Ursa, but his mind reeled back to those never-ending nights of his childhood.

How many dark hours had he spent cowering in a corner, his hands clamped over his ears against his father’s shouts and his mother’s pleads and cries? Or curled in a ball, nursing a swollen eye or aching ribs?

Nay. He clawed his way out of the memories. This brute wasn’t his father. That monster was long dead, while this one stood before him now, very much alive. He needed to focus, needed to fight with all his strength to best him. For if he failed...

His gaze slipped to Birdie. She stood above the bog on the rocks, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes wide with fear.

Ursa chose that moment to attack.

The man moved slowly, which gave Gregor just enough time to yank his attention back and lunge out of the path of the descending blade. It sliced into the wet grass where Gregor had been standing a heartbeat before with a heavy, wet thunk.

Gregor circled to Ursa’s left, keeping his sword lifted between them. The giant hauled his blade out of the muck with a grunt, then swung again, this time aiming to take off Gregor’s head.

Gregor shifted, blocking the blow with his sword. But the strike was so powerful that it nearly knocked the weapon out of his hands.

Shite. And that was Ursa’s weak side attack. Gregor staggered backward, tightening his grip on the hilt. Ursa lumbered toward him, raising his arms for another swing. Seeing an opening, Gregor lashed out, slicing the giant’s arm. Blood leaked out over his tunic sleeve, but it was little more than a scratch.

Too late, Gregor realized his error. To get close enough to nick Ursa’s arm, he’d put himself well in the range of the giant’s much-longer sword.

Gregor lurched back, but not before Ursa unleashed a mighty swing. The blow would have taken Gregor’s head clean off, but he managed to thrust his sword up, catching the giant’s monstrous blade just before it bit into his neck.

But he’d been ill prepared for the force of the blow. This time, it ripped the sword clean out of his hands, sending the blade sailing through the air to land with a splat in the mud a dozen paces away.

“Gregor!”

He willed himself not to look at Birdie despite the desperate fear in her voice. He needed every last drop of concentration now just to stay alive.

Gregor scrambled backward, drawing Ursa deeper into the bog after him. Now the giant wore a faint smile, his brown eyes lit with satisfaction as if he had already won.

And mayhap he had. In a few short moments, he’d managed to disarm Gregor. Now Gregor not only faced a giant with a sword as long as a tree branch, but he did so bare-handed.

He balled his fists and lifted them before him. There was no way in hell he was giving up yet, odds be damned. But if he stood a chance, he needed to strip Ursa of his sword.

Gregor halted in his retreat, letting Ursa draw nearer, his boots squelching in the mud. When he was within striking distance, the giant drew back his sword for another attack.

In the instant before Ursa unleashed his blade, Gregor darted forward. He clamped both hands around Ursa’s meaty paw, yanking with all his might to wrest the sword from his grasp.

He might as well have tried to pull down Ben Loyal with his bare hands. Ursa tightened his grip, even while pushing his fist down into Gregor’s hold. Gregor locked his arms against the force bearing down on him, but his boots sank several inches into the mud under Ursa’s might.

Ursa hooked his other arm around Gregor’s neck, spinning him and yanking him back into his chest. Gregor sputtered and thrashed in the chokehold, but Ursa’s arm only tightened.

Now that his sword arm was free, Ursa lifted the edge of the blade, positioning it between his thick arm and Gregor’s chin.

Through ringing ears, Gregor heard Birdie scream. Just before Ursa could draw the blade against his throat, Gregor lurched forward, clamping his teeth around the giant’s sword hand. He bit down hard enough to pierce Ursa’s skin, the taste of blood