Hassan

A few days later, I was released from the shaman's care and escorted by another soldier to the barracks to show the King I was fit to still serve in his army.

"How were you hurt? You weren't at the battle camp to the south," he asked breaking the silence.

"I shouldn't really speak on it," I whispered. "It was reckless and stupid."

I hadn't told anyone out of fear and pride about how the King had tried to silence me with his assassin's years ago so this altercation with Rundra would make no sense.

"I overheard the shaman say that they were skilled wounds-"

I sighed. "Aye. Quit worrying like a mother hen. I will pass. No war wound has finished me yet."

He clapped me on the back.

"I sure hope you will, general. We need your strategic mind back on our side for the fight to the south."

I smiled faintly. "You won't lose me that easily."

Upon entering the sparring area, the soldier and I bowed. How would the King test me today?

"Rise,�� said his physician.

"Glad to see you looking so well," feigned the King. "The shaman made you sound as if you were on your death bed- granted you have had some close encounters with death."

The disdain in his voice as he spoke to me was easy to hear- so easy I would be surprised if Demni didn't even pick up on it. Every word seemed to pain him and it brought me a great sense of joy to be the source of his torture.

"Aye, each is more enlightening than the last."

His face pinched up in anger for a moment, but then went back to being unreadable. I had to hold back a grin at how much I unnerved him.

"Bjorn," he called.

I had to keep myself from showing any emotion. Bjorn was a demigod among us- and he was a Raksheesh. I am still not a big believer in the gods, but regardless Bjorn is a force to reckon with when he was a Scortha and even now that he was retired.

The bear of a legend walked in and bowed to the King.

"You two will fight," said the King in an even tone. " Pick your weapon of choice and the fight will not cease till one of you is in the ground at the mercy of your challenger."

I saw from the corner of my eye Bjorn give me a worried look. He had been retired for years and only entered in tournaments. For the King to bring in Bjorn, he was really trying to end my career as a general. Honestly, it amused me how much effort he put into hating me.

Once we had chose our weapons, we stood at the ready. Both of us were tense; neither of us moved a muscle as I sized him up. Bjorn stood a good foot taller than myself and was of a stout build with thick bulging muscles covered in battle scars and the faint outline of the magical Scortha tattoos. His height would be a disadvantage. Surely though all that muscle would make him slower.

"Begin," called the King.

I backed up taking the defensive and realizing too late that was most likely a mistake. Bjorn charged and cleared the space between us n four quick strides creating a kick up of sand. He brought his broadsword down in a quick fluid motion that caught me off guard. I barely got my sword up in time and the collision shook all through my arm making me grit my teeth and dig my heels into the sand. His sword speed was unnaturally fast. I had miscalculated him tremendously. It had almost cost me the battle after the first strike. I needed a plan and quick.

I made space again and knew he would charge, but this time I was ready for it. When he was within range, I quickly moved to the side and slashed my sword into his calf making him roar in anger and pain. He recovered quickly again and charged at me, but at a slower speed. I dropped to my knees and brought my sword up to block angling it to lodge in his handle and with any luck, bring his sword spinning out of his hands. It was a complicated parry that I'd only used twice and only got the wanted outcome once. If I miscalculated this time, the force would drive my own sword from my hand. I made all the small adjustments as the seconds closed between us before he landed his blow. I hoped I had judged it correctly. I gritted my teeth as the initial force fell before performing the upward crescent motion. His sword jarred from his hands and with the shock, I brought my sword tip to his neck as he raised his hands to either side of his head in defeat.

"I yield," he called loudly before adding in a hushed-whisper, "Well done, general."

I looked at the king and could see his anger rolling off of him. Bjorn in no way had thrown this sparring match. I kept my sword at his throat not allowing it to waiver. Why hadn't the King called the end of the match?

"What are you waiting for, Hassan? He's not on the ground."

I looked at Bjorn who gave a faint nod. I pulled my sword back and he fell to the ground and I immediately put my sword back at his throat.

"I yield," he said again.

I looked at the King.

"Report to the south outpost tomorrow," he growled.

I placed the sword back in its sheath before offering Bjorn my hand. He took it using his other to get up.

"I'll walk you to the Shaman's hut," I told him. "The least I could do for injuring you."

"Thank you," he said humbly.

We placed our weapons back on the weapons rack as we left. We were both walking with a limp, but his stride was at least twice of mine. Once we were out of ears shot, Bjorn stopped.

"For him to call me to spar against you is very different."

"Aye."

"I heard the disdain he had for you. Why does he hate one his own generals so much? Especially one as decorated as you."

I sighed. "That is... that is a very long story."

"You've had two encounters with Rundra and survived."

My blood ran cold. How could he possibly know about that?

"How... how do you know that?"

He smirked.

"She is my wife," he whispered. "Your her first target she's refused to kill."

The knowledge shocked me. Why hadn't he tried to kill me during the spar for attacking his wife? How had I missed the marriage tattoo on her left arm? His was obvious why I hadn't because of his Scortha marks.

"The king doesn't know that we are married as well as he doesn't know about our daughter. She knows why you sought her out, and that is why I hold no anger against you, general, but this is your one and only warning from me- if you attempt to harm my wife ever again-" he made a slicing motion over his throat. "Not that she needs my protection."

"I understand."

He nodded obviously accepting my answer as we began walking again. So many questions swam through my head. How were they married without the King's knowledge? To my knowledge, Bjorn resided here in the village- how could he allow his wife to live so far away? How had she been able to carry out her duties as an assassin while pregnant?

"The knowledge that shocking?" he asked.

His voice was light.

"Aye."

"As you trusted her with your secrets, I trust you with ours," he whispered. "Don't betray us."

"Death before dishonor," I said looking him in the eye. "If I betray you, cut my throat."