The entire capital had gathered around the platform to watch the tournament conclude. Laya could hear the crowd all the way from the palace gates. Drums echoed over the shouts, their harsh, hollow beats rolling off the goatskin membranes like thunder. The pounding built, growing louder and louder as she and Eti hurried along the edge of the canal.

Long bamboo torches stood at each corner of the tournament platform, basking it in an orange glow. Luntok Kulaw and Utu Luma had already climbed up to the top and were standing on opposite sides of the ring. Laya stopped at the edge of the platform to admire Luntok. He was not as brawny as Utu Luma, but his sturdy silhouette stretched just as tall across the platform. The hazy light emphasized the toned muscles of his abdomen. And the glow of the flames danced across his smooth, handsome face.

“Let’s go up to the stands,” Eti said, tugging Laya along.

She held back. “No,” she said with a shake of her head. “We’ll see the fight better from down here.”

Both Laya and Eti stood out amidst the throng of commoners with their gleaming jewelry and fine clothes. Over her shoulder, curious whispers broke out. A few of the commoners would have jumped at the chance to speak with them had the fight not been about to begin.

A small smile spread across Laya’s face as she gazed up at Luntok. He held the love of the crowd tonight, that was certain. Maynara may have hated his mother, but they adored him. How could they not, with his easy smile and chiseled features? Desire flared in the pit of her stomach as she watched Luntok draw his sword from its sheath.

Gods help her, she loved him.

Utu Luma’s bulky form towered over the opposite edge of the platform. He wore nothing but a handloomed loincloth and a boar-tusk necklace, whose curved ends jutted from Utu’s chest like gnashing teeth. He brandished a single-edged sword with a thick blade and a buffalo-horn hilt. He gazed coldly at his opponent, face melded into a mask of steel.

Above, the sun dipped lower on the horizon. Clouds stretched, painting pink and purple streaks across the sky. Day faded into dusk as the crowd in the pit grew restless. Laya’s hands clenched into fists as the two men started to circle each other on the platform. The drums came to a halt. Around her, the crowd held its breath.

On the other side of the platform, a deep voice rang out, cutting through the silence. “Begin.”

Utu charged at Luntok first. The air cracked with the sound of clashing metal as Luntok fended off his attack. The sheer force made Luntok’s arms quake, but he managed to parry each and every blow.