Dragonclaw Dare

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Dragonclaw Dare Page 6

by Brian S. Ference

A Kiss

  Long into the night the pirates caroused and Darek caught glimpses of half-naked bodies dancing about the fire. Cups of arrack and foaming ale sloshed over at the edges, gripped in pirates’ greasy hands. Serle, bellowing ribald songs from the corners of his mouth in drunken tribute, a woman latched in each arm and tossing them both about in lascivious manner, was in his element.

  Darek stirred in annoyance, struggling with emotions that seemed alien to him. A part of him could not condemn what he saw and what a more primal part of him too craved. His senses reeled. He felt drawn to such power, would like to feel the warm skin of a woman under him. He shrugged off the thoughts. To escape this pigpen was his first priority.

  He tore his attention back to the reavers. Many of the Ridderwin clan harbored tattoos up their arms, shaved heads with strips of hair running up the middle, though some wore braids, were completely bald or sported mullets and long hair trailing down their backs. In the scarlet flicker of the fire light, they looked like demons, or underworld spirits of chaos. The tattoos gleamed like war paint on their bare arms and trunks. Dancers with tusked masks pranced around the fire, mouthing sacred and ancient words.

  Serle, from what he observed, entertained three wives who did not care for each other. Rarely had he ever heard such obscenities uttered by women before. They were gypsies, these wild women of the north. With bangles on their wrists and ankles and rings on their fingers and toes. Fiery-eyed, these women with their curly hair and exotic airs, flaunted their unfettered sexuality. He was surprised that Lvis was so conservative by comparison.

  A figure slipped out the shadows. Slim, lithe and like a fresh flower coming out in bloom. Darek opened his mouth to speak, felt a thrill of anticipation and excitement. He pressed himself to the bars.

  “Shh.” Lvis came close and put her finger to his lips. She smiled.

  Bringing out of her pouch a packet of baked swordfish and mackerel wrapped in soft cloth, she passed it between the bars. Darek and Briad’s eyes rounded in slavering hunger. The home-baked smell intoxicated them. They ate ravenously, flashing her grateful looks.

  “I have no ale,” she apologized.

  Darek shook his head with a grin. “You’re a godsend, Lvis. I thought you’d never come back,” he whispered.

  “I said I would, didn’t I?”

  Darek’s eyes darted from the girl’s mesmerizing eyes to her alluring figure and back to the closest bonfire. Nobody appeared to have followed her. That was a comfort.

  “I’d really love a knife like that one tucked in your belt at this moment,” Darek said.

  “Why?” she demanded suspiciously.

  “So Briad and I can cut ourselves loose from here and steal back our boat when everyone is sleeping.”

  She hesitated, snatched a wary glance back to the fire pit where her father and the other seamen continued to overindulge in drink.

  “If my father catches me—or you—”

  “Relax,” assured Darek. “I’ll throw your knife in the sea. They’ll never know it was you who helped us escape. Briad and I’ll slip out like eels.” Drunken roars and shouts of laughter drifted through the mist-laden trees, vying with the songs of the crickets. “This party’s going to go on for a while yet,” scoffed Darek.

  She cast a doubtful look at him and at Briad, who sliced a finger across his throat.

  “Eel’s the word,” he swore.

  Lvis gave a noncommittal grunt. “Well...” Unhooking her gleaming blade from her belt, she passed it through the bars.

  Darek snatched it with a croak of triumph. His heart flared with excitement. Finally, a prospect of escape! It was but a hand’s breadth away. He felt his breath quicken. The weapon felt cool in his palm; he saw the knife had a whalebone handle with inlaid runes of quality and a keen edge. A fine piece.

  “You’re a jewel, Lvis!” he hissed in a low voice, “I swear to you that one day I will repay you.”

  She shrugged with a laugh. “Something I may never see come to pass. Promise it with a kiss.”

  “A kiss?” Darek blinked. “You mean right now?” A hot flush prickled his skin. He always thought he would have to promise a girl exotic gifts and woo her for several weeks to get this far.

  “I’m waiting,” she coaxed, moistening her lips.

  “Well, sure.” He leaned closer, pressed himself to the bars as she approached. Her face came close to his, her eyes slowly closing as she leaned in. Their lips touched and a rush of warmth filled his body. Her mouth tasted slightly of wine and he was dazed by the intoxicating smell of flowers in her hair.

  Such a tender kiss in a dirty stinking place! A faint but wild tremor quickened his blood and he felt her stir in response.

  “Well, if you’re about done,” grunted Briad in a whimsical voice. “I’d love to get out of here before we find our necks in a noose...”

  “Where will you go?” she breathed to Darek. “Never mind—I don’t care, just take me with you.” Her eyes twinkled like distant stars. “Father won’t let me go into battle and wants me to marry some sodheap like Nax and herd and feed bullocks all day. When I’m near you, my heart beats for adventure and the freedom of the wind.”

  Darek’s heart soared and he knew even as impossible as it might be, he wanted nothing more than to take her with them. He took her hand in his and smiled.

  “What’s going on here?” A voice stabbed out of the shadows.

  Darek jerked around, only to recognize the gruff tone and pocked face of Nax! He shouldn’t have let down his guard against that bilge rat.

  “Lvis, is that you?” the knave called, squinting as he came closer. “What in the name of three Osuns are you doing? Did I just see you give that sludge-licking slave a kiss?

  Lvis scowled. “Beat it, Nax. Go stalk some jellyfish.”

  Nax fists quivered with rage as he looked at Darek. “How dare you put your hands on my girl.”

  Lvis clicked her tongue. “I’m not your girl. I was just checking on these men’s wounds.”

  “Aw, don’t give me that crabrot. I saw you sneaking off with food for them.”

  She put her hand on her hips and snorted, “What are you going to do about it, Nack-head?”

  His face turned beet red, and he backhanded her across the mouth. She reeled back, wiping the blood from her lip.

  Darek growled and pitched his full weight against the bars, rattling it with fury. “Leave her alone, you sludge-licking hound.” His fingers clenched on the knife, almost swiping it through the bars at Nax’s nearby torso, remembering at the last minute it was his ticket out of here. So instead, he balled up a wad of dung and sent it sailing at Nax’s head.

  It struck Nax in the face and he grunted upon the impact. He wiped the mess from his eyes in disbelief. “You’re dead, pig!”

  Lvis thrust herself between Nax and the bars. “These are my father’s slaves. He’ll have your eye if you kill them—”

  “Shut up, filthy whore.”

  Darek growled between his teeth. “Open this gate, and we’ll see what you’re made of.”

  Nax snorted a low piping sound. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, pig? Oink, oink,” he mimicked, grunting like the swine in the sty. Darek wondered if he could throw the knife through the bars.

  Lvis was steaming mad. “Who’re you calling a whore, you cretin?”

  He advanced on her again, but this time Lvis was ready, kicking Nax in the gut and doubling him over.

  “Here, what’s all this?” called a booming voice from the dark.

  Nax recovered and flashed Lvis a scathing glance. Hreg, his father, strode in with grog on his breath. “What are you messing around with the prisoners for, boy? I told you to steer clear.” He turned to glare at Lvis. “And you, this is no place for a lady—what’s wrong with your mouth?”

  Licking her bloody lip, she grunted. “Nothing, Hreg. I just tripped over a root.” Her eyes leveled Nax with a warning glance.

  “My eye you did! Serle’s going to be displeased
to hear you’ve been skulking about the prisoner pens.”

  Darek plunged the knife back into his breeches, hoping it wouldn’t be discovered. Briad stood frozen.

  Hreg wrinkled his nose at the prisoners, pausing at the fiery look in Darek’s eyes. Lvis slunk disdainfully off in the shadows as Hreg faced his son.

  “And you, you rotten mutt. Up to no good again? Wipe that silly smile off your face.”

  “I was just—”

  Hreg slapped him and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “Fetch me some wine, boy! The night’s still young.” He hustled the glowering youth along back to the campfire.

  Darek’s grin broadened in satisfaction as he watched the retreating figures. At least Nax got what he deserved. Now he had a knife. Neither Nax nor Lvis would dare come back soon. It would have been nice to steal some more kisses from her, but there was no time. Hellfire, he liked her, perhaps more than Clara. Perhaps in another lifetime...No, better not go there. Time to escape.

  There were still too many pirates nearby to saw through the stakes without notice. He gave a grunt of frustration. They would have to wait for their chance. Both of them slumped in exhaustion, backs to the bars, listening to the pigs snuffle and the fowls cluck as echoing laughter drifted on the wind.

  The party lasted all night and well into dawn. Figures were still milling about as he buried the blade in a dung heap that shielded it from view.

  Four pirates, haggard-eyed, black-circled from grog, opened the prison hatch as dawn’s rosy fingers licked in. The seamen rough-hauled them out, leaving no time to retrieve the knife. “Up, you mackerels. Time for some action.”

  The jailers prodded them and three other slaves on a path through the woods to a large glade breasting the hills. A few dozen drunken onlookers gathered before a long, crescent-shaped lagoon of greenish water.

  Darek saw a great maze of open walkways spanning the shallows. They interconnected in a puzzling crisscross of wooden-slatted gangplanks tied by rope and stretching over the lagoon, some supported by pylons about three feet above the water. Darek muttered his confusion. “What is this?”

  A full-bearded sea dog with a missing eye seemed amused at the youth’s curious stare. He chortled, “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Hreg gathered wooden staves from a nearby trunk and pushed them into the hands of the prisoners with a cheeky grin. “Good luck, you flounders! You’ll certainly need it.” His guffaw wafted with the foul smell of sour grog.

  Darek focused on Serle who now stepped up to address the gathering crowd with both hands held high.

  “Citizens of Devil’s Lair! Greetings. The trials are upon us and I welcome you.” The small crowd roared. “Our young seamen will now prove their worth against the likes of these—” he gestured dramatically to the right. A group of men with their first set of whiskers stepped forward wearing light leather armor. Darek and Briad sported only tattered clothing. Darek saw Nax was among the competitors and watching with an evil glare.

  Serle called for quiet among the crowd. “The rules are simple. No deliberate killing or choking. If a man should call ‘yield’, the other must grant reprieve. Fail to do so and you will swim the fire-coral reef.” He motioned to a narrow channel of water tinged red.”

  “If you are forced into the water, you will be removed from the trials. Pacts and alliances are encouraged and expected. Observe the far end of the lagoon screened off with posts. That area is off limits. Barring that, anything goes. That said, let the games begin!”

  Darek muttered under his breath at the maze of crisscrossing pathways. “Wonder why we can’t go over there.”

  Briad shrugged, his face pale with anxiety, an unhealthy rattle in his chest.

  A slave nudged Darek in the ribs. “That’s where the Nargale fish live.”

  Darek blinked.

  “Nargale. Predators. Their sting is like the war manta, their bite like the viper shark.”

  Darek gulped, his jaw hanging slack. “You got to be joking?”

  The slave shook his head, grinning as if in answer. “The pirates keep them for their amusements, in fights to the death. Lucky we aren’t fighting over there.”

  “Lucky,” Darek muttered. “I still don’t get the maze thing.”

  “It’s supposed to be like deck-to-deck fighting during a boarding.”

  The starting drum sounded and the contestants moved to the ramp over the waters, taking their places on the maze of walkways, spanning the serpentish waters.

  Briad, no great swordsman or fighter, would be pitted against the younger warriors, to the delighted jeers of those watching. They were given training swords made of wood to avoid serious injuries.

  Darek hissed, “Don’t worry, Briad, we’ll watch each other’s back. I used to spar the quarterstaff against both my friends Vinz and Grame.”

  Briad nodded faintly, gripping his stave. A fierce, snarling grimace framed his mouth, knowing he could count on Darek as an ally. “Likewise, I’ll help you if I can.”

  Chapter 9.

  The Trials

  Darek was surprised to see a figure with a familiar gait step up to join the other boys. Not so familiar. This figure had the faint semblance of Lvis, dressed in full leathers, a horned helm pulled down around her face and hair clipped and dyed. So her father didn’t know she was competing? Darek’s eyes briefly caught hers. She seemed surprised that he hadn’t already escaped. He shook his head, in answer to her questioning gaze.

  No sooner had the drum boomed than the start of the trails began with booted feet pounding the planks. Darek steadied himself on the swaying walkway and ducked a whistling strike that would have knocked him senseless. He ploughed head first into an opponent, knocking the wind out of him and sending him reeling to the swaying planks. Darek kicked the weapon out of another’s hand and held the stave to his throat. “Yield?”

  “Yield, I yield!” cried the boy.

  Darek snarled and pushed his way forward, as did others. The defeated jumped into the water and swam back to shore. Briad was already suffering multiple hits, his muffled yells drifting to Darek’s ears.

  Nax was pushing his way across the crowded pathway to get to Darek. There was nowhere to turn amid those hacking and jabbing staves. Dark bruises shone on Darek’s left cheek under a blackening eye. Briad was no better off. The young man’s breath rasped, his gaze feverish. Darek lunged, hacked at another’s legs, parried a high blow and nearly lost his weapon to the shivering sting that shot up his arm. The flat of a blade slapped into his stomach and a sharp pain rose. He doubled over, rolled underfoot of a cursing youth’s boots, grabbed desperately at his ankle and upended him into the water.

  Darek had taken a wrong turn and now was forced to backtrack. Nax had him cornered and charged with a triumphant cry.

  Lvis, deep in battle with a blond-braided giant, turned about, distracted by the sound. A buffet landed on her helm. The giant’s staff descended and struck low. The giant gave chase but tripped on an uprooted plank and lost his balance. Lvis kicked him into the water and out of the competition. Lvis staggered through the broken wall, still dazed, as Darek fended off hit after hit from Nax.

  Chance would have it that they were deep within the rear of the maze away from the shore, bordering the forbidden Nargale into which Darek had unwittingly led them. These rope walkways swayed as fighters crossed them, threatening to topple the entire structure into the lagoon.

  Briad scrambled up behind Nax, striking him with a sharp cry and a crack of bone. With a roar of fury, Nax spun and knocked Briad back toward the barrier, smashing through protective housing surrounding the forbidden waters. Briad nearly fell into the Nargale-infested water. They could see their cold blue-yellow eyes as the creatures finned forth, whipping their flashing tails as they swam hungrily below. A fin broke the surface, razor-white teeth showed above the water.

  Sensing his friend’s plight, Darek redoubled his attack on Nax. Darek hit Nax square in the jaw with a blow that sent a tooth flying
into the water below. Sputtering and cursing, the injured boy floundered, and Darek took opportunity to press his advantage, pulling him over a slatted railing. Nax quickly recovered, crouching low in a defensive position.

  Lvis pulled Briad up, just as a Nargale leaped below.

  Briad mumbled an incoherent thanks.

  Darek peered around wildly. Only a handful of youths still remained on the boardwalks. Nax suddenly lurched forward, swinging with all his strength.

  Darek’s stave broke in two on Nax’s weapon. He cursed as it fell into the Nargale water, surrounded by a flurry of bubbles as the creatures swarmed in with wide grey mouths breaking the surface.

  Nax gave a gleeful snort and swung at Darek. Lvis threw herself at Nax, raining blows with her stave upon his back, fists, feet.

  Coughing in fury, Nax struck back with his stave across her shoulders. She fell gasping, sprawled over the walkway’s edge. Her long curls hung down, facing the teeth of the jumping predators.

  “Lvis, no!” Darmenstra screeched from the shore, realizing at that moment that her daughter had snuck into the competition.

  “Damn her,” came Serle’s hissing curse. “Get up there! Now!” He yelled at several of his henchmen.

  Pirates lurched up the ramp, Darmenstra in the lead. Lvis’s life was in danger.

  Darek twisted under Nax’s swing, trying to shield Lvis with his back as Briad launched his own attack. Briad’s strikes did little but enrage Nax, earning him a sharp blow to the ribs. The pain doubled him over.

  Nax stared wild-eyed, rage thick in his throat. “I’ll kill you.”

  “Yield, I yield,” Darek gasped. But Nax laid into him again, windmilling his stave like a battle ax. Lvis made a grab for Nax’s weapon, pulling it from his hand. Nax twisted and pounced on Darek, straddling him, choking him with his bare hands.

  Darek could feel his vision go dark and his breath wheezing out of his lungs. The brute was going to strangle the life out of him!

  Like a disembodied spirit, Darek felt himself lift from his body. He felt as if he traveled back through the ages where an instinctual memory burned like a beacon, whispering of survival. In a burst of energy, he visualized a ball of pulsing fire punching through the bully’s thickset body. Nax’s sweaty torso flew back, as if wrenched from behind by an invisible force.

 

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