The Winter Sun

Chapter 32

The kindling Lach had gathered for the fire was tightly locked inside his arms, but upon entering the clearing of their camp, they all stumbled to the ground.

Bett threatened a finger at Amaya. "You are a witch."

Amaya's eyebrows danced with dubiousness. "A witch? What are you talking about, Bett?"

"You don't remember your little witchcraft trick?" Amaya's mouth gaped. "Floating around like a haunting ghost."

Lach breathed staggered, and in a matter of a few seconds, he had Bett's collar crumpled in his hands and his hazardous breath flaring on their face. "Stop it," he hissed. "We already talked about this."

Bett's eyes fell into a slit. The sharpness of a knife. "You know this is the truth."

"I said stop it." Lach tightened his grip. If Bett was looking for him, they would find him.

"Lach, release them." Amaya rose to her feet, the shawl blanketing her fell down on the ground. "Please." But Lach couldn't hear her; all he could think about was how punchable the hunter's face was. It's been itching him since day one.

"You know why you react that way. I told you." Bett held Lach's glare like a challenge. "Your Princess is cursed, and that is why the kingdom is doomed-" The back of their head met the ground, and they let out a painful hiss.

"Shut up!" Lach's fist was high in the air, ready to collide and break that insurgent mouth when a yell stopped him mid-way.

"No!" Lach's arm was gripped. "Don't do it. We will talk it through. There is no use for this." Amaya let out, and his fist clenched. "Lach?" His skin burned like lava as he stared at the hunter's smirk. He groaned and released his grip.

But his world swung, and his head slapped hard against the ground, too, and when he opened his eyes again, Bett's long hair caged him like creepers. His legs were blocked under their weight, and their rough palms were sizing the air of his throat. "This is what you expected, horseman!?" Madness glowed in Bett's eyes.

Amaya grabbed the hunter's shoulders. "Bett, stop it."

"Get away from me, witch." They shoved her, and Amaya winced as she fell. That was it. A slash of red sprung through Lach's vision, and his fist collided with the hunter's cheek. After that, it was a snowballing of punches, blows, and fists sprinkled with war yells and bestial roars.

Lach hit Bett a few times, leaving them disoriented for a moment, but his victory was ephemeral. Bett fought like a bear protecting their cubs. Their strong arms swung at him. They were way shorter than Lach and even were a head lower than the Princess, but those arms were made of iron, and when they hit. They threw stones. Quickly, Lach found himself the prey of a rain of blows. Stomach, face, thighs. Nothing was spared.

Lach found himself clutching his stomach on the ground, face in the dust and blood with the smell of iron invading his nose. His split lip stung, and he spat red as the blurred face of Amaya met him. "Oh Sun God, Lach. Are you alright?" He groaned. "Please say something." The man hissed in pain as he struggled in a sitting position.

"I am fine." He wiped the red of his face, but the blue and violet were blooming as he spoke. "Are you all right?" He scrutinized the woman's face as his vision slowly cleared.

"I am all right," she stood up, stumbling a little as she did. "Bett. I am not what you think I am." She winced as if in pain. "I am the Princess of Ornuv, not a witch. I don't know what you are talking about. And this," she made a gesture at Lach. "This won't help us." Lach spat red on the ground again.