I sag back against the couch. I’m not sure if I can take much more of this. Lyva takes her seat again and leans into me, resting her head gently against my swollen belly, her hand rubs it unconsciously in soothing strokes. The baby shifts in response. He’s always aware of her presence. I brush her hair back and wait for Halvden and the man I know only as Horse to move out to the Duel Master. There is no need for him to announce them as rivals.
They are the only ones left.
They choose hand-to-hand combat. Each man is checked for concealed weapons; they take their places. I try to focus on their fight, but my attention is on Lycur. Ermin is rubbing his shoulder vigorously. He is hurt. His face is a mask of fierce pain as Ermin tries to work the stiffness out; his other hand is massaging
