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Atticul simply laughs. Lyr is sure any other man would have stepped away from Damon after he growled like that. He’s like a coiled spring.
What did he do in Pluma-Ferris to earn the name One Man Army? How many people did he kill?
“Come on, Bastard,” says Atticul. “I have shared my whore with my blood kin, you should share yours.”
“You touch him and you die, brother,” Damon says in a tone that raises the hairs on the back of Lyr’s neck.
Atticul laughs again, but this time it sounds hollow. He glances towards the guards standing at the edge of the room. “Very well. Then where is that veiled creature of yours? I have often wondered if I ought to sample your sins of the body. How delightful must they be that you would take such risks for them?”
“The Hare is not mine,” Damon says in a more even tone. “I have never met him before. And he is an acolyte of Zai, of the Order of the Enforcer.”
“Really?” says Atticul. “What company you keep. Even better. Fetch him.”
“Fetch him? You’d fuck a man dedicated to Zai?” Damon raises his eyebrows.
“Don’t lecture me on morality, Bastard, when you have your sly whore on your arm. I saw you with that stable cur, I know what you are. What you’ve always been, you degenerate cocksucker.”
“Fuck. You,” Damon says in a tone that suggests everything has just stepped up another notch. This could turn violent any second.
Without a thought, Lyr steps more directly between them. Atticul reacts to this by grabbing a handful of Lyr’s shirt and yanking him close. Lyr can see the wet of Atticul’s mouth as he says in a low snarl, “I gave you an order, slave. Get on your knees. You can suck him if you prefer. Show me, show me how you swallow his cock.”
Lyr feels Damon move in close behind him, a big hand on his waist. “Unhand him now or you will regret—,” Damon begins.
Atticul shoves Lyr sideways and he stumbles as Atticul hits Damon. His punch lands well. His fist collides with Damon’s jaw and is hard enough to knock him off balance. Damon, lax on sofi, goes down. Heavy. Stunned on the floor.
Atticul looks shocked to have knocked Damon down. He grabs Lyr by the wrist and twists it. Lyr gasps in pain.
“My sweet stupid whore,” Atticul drawls. “I said you would regret your foolish choices, didn’t I? Now, you will show me how well you take cock,”
Atticul with another twist of Lyr’s wrist, forces Lyr to his knees on the stone floor. Damon’s prone body is behind him. Damon groans, still stunned. Lyr moves fast, casting his hand back to grab the dagger from the strap on Damon’s ankle.
“Stay back,” Lyr snaps, brandishing the dagger.
Behind him, Damon groans, “Lyr, no.”
Atticul stares at the blade. “You pull a blade on me, slave? I am the heir second of Azuria. Holding a weapon in my presence is enough to have you ripped to pieces in the Punishment Square.”
At the same moment, the gauze curtain Opeth and Endrew vanished behind flutters and Endrew comes racing out. Opeth is behind him, fastening her gown, saying, “Come back, Sweetpea. It is no dishonour to spend fast. It is a tribute to my mouth that you were so enamoured.”
Endrew races up and grabs hold of Atticul’s shoulder. He sees the dagger. His eyes are wide. “Atti, what’s happening?” he says, pale-faced.
What happens next, all happens so fast…
Lyr is still on the floor with the dagger pointing at Atticul, as Atticul shakes Endrew off him, clearly thinking this is some kind of attack from behind.
He shoves Endrew off and down, throws him towards Lyr and Damon on the floor.
And Endrew falls in a tumbling heap of drunken limbs.
And as he falls, he falls chest first, right on to the dagger Lyr is holding.
His body makes a terrible sound as he is impaled on the blade, but Endrew says nothing at all. Lyr is looking right into his face. He’s dead. He looks so shocked.
Opeth, racing up behind Atticul, screams. Atticul makes a howling sound of rage.
The whole room seems to ignite.
Lyr takes his hand off the blade in horror and Endrew’s body falls to the floor, the dagger’s handle sticking out of his chest, blood blooming from it, starting to form a dark shape on the floor.
