Two more warriors and a wyvern shot past, all of them making for the obvious wider path between the thickets.
Tharius turned the fallen warrior over with his boot, checking for signs of life. He didn’t want the male jumping him or learning of the secret shortcut. Someone called out, a mocking jeer at him stopping for food when he should be running to defend his mate.
“Thank you for the repast.” He addressed the fallen warrior. The attack proved a welcome distraction and stopped him leading the others straight to the hidden path. It was agony waiting for them all to pass. Some gave him curious looks, wondering why he lingered. Their fellow warriors waved them on. For the honour of their camp, they must fight like rampant males.
A secret path, eh? Serllia huffed up to him, sparing the fallen warrior a critical glance. A Housistan from the Segar system. Their eyes make potent magic. But I’ve no time for trophy hunting right now. The path is over there, between the run of sesala trees. Am I right?
I would strangle you now, but that wastes time I do not care to squander. Tharius set off taking long strides, eating as he ran. Weaving through the trees, driven by instincts older than time. Dragons were born knowing this place. Every tree, every stone and dip in the valley floor. He could run it with his eyes closed and never hit a tree, never be lost.
Unfortunately, so could the hag tapping his mind like a handy map.
He’d kill her, but she was so far behind him now he’d have to wait or go back. And Claudia needed him more than he needed to kill the seer who’d no doubt be protected from his rage if not from his kiss.
We could do it again, general. I can make you come in so many ways you’ve only dreamed of.
Water dripped from the overhead branches and leaves, soaking into the finely cured hide vest. More ceremonial wear than battle armour, it wicked up the rain, squeaking in protest as he moved. Even in this half-shift, the soles of his feet felt tender from lack of use. Every muscle protested that it needed time to rebuild and find the strength he once commanded.
He breathed in the pungent stench of wet leaves and soil, the moulds growing on the tree bark.
Tharius silenced it all, and suddenly Claudia crept into his head.
Tharius, to the left by the stream and then under the arch of tangled branches. Get through quicker that way. Oh…
He felt Claudia’s stab of pain. The creature was hurting her. The creature would die. His vision cleared as he ducked into a tunnel of trees reaching out like lovers to entwine their branches. He straightened and frowned at the sight of Ekala’s gown blowing in the breeze. The bejewelled garment discarded like yesterday’s garbage. A gold coin lay nearby. Claudia’s own gown was nowhere to be seen.
Follow my voice. Hurry.
From this point a path wound up the mountain. Another circled the base. He took that one and found her, the simple gown clutched to her chest, her shoulders bloodless and glistening with rain. Her vulnerable back bare.
The threatening wyvern circled her like a predator taking its time with the kill. He barely spared him a glance. The eye had not chosen to disable or exterminate the rogue wyvern. What sick minds enjoyed seeing a woman raped and killed?
Oh, thank God. Claudia’s shoulders sagged. I couldn’t hold him for much longer.
She bled from a sticky red clot oozing from her tangled hair. Another transgression the wyvern would pay dearly for.
“Step away from my mate.” Tharius searched deep inside for the cold calm that made him famous. He was General Tharius Drak’Athis, the legendary leader. A warrior who never backed down.
And this time he wasn’t too late.
“Or else what?” The wyvern’s cock hung limp from his pants. flopping as he paced. It appeared Claudia was more in danger from the violence than rape. Violence she faced so bravely his chest swelled with pride. A warrior female defending her unborn child. He stood in awe of the defiant chin, the rock clutched in her fist. Was there ever a more glorious sight?
Tharius! I’m not Joan of Arc. I don’t do martyr. Do something.
Tharius took a step. The eye crackled to life.
“Hold, both of you. Wyvern, there will be no more warnings. Stand back on pain of death. Dragon, you will move to the clearing and await the final six. The viewers will have their contest.”
He caught a glimpse of pale flesh, the darker pink of Claudia’s nipples as she threw the gown over her head. Torn from neck to navel, it did little to cover her modesty. He made an oath and strode over to her, grasping her cheek with his hand, holding her for a kiss that wiped away all taste of the seer and filled him with her.
I sense it, he said in wonder. Our child in the ember inside of you.
Seems I can heal myself after all. Claudia kissed him back, breathless and demanding. Keep on kissing me, the viewers will love it.
He pushed his tongue into her mouth, never so glad to obey a direct order. She moaned deep in her throat. The wyvern made a sound of disgust and stomped away.
You’ve been eating, she said, almost accusingly.
Here, in the satchel. He left her reluctantly to unhook the satchel and thread it over her own shoulders. I’ll fight for you and win. Have no fear.
“The viewers are going wild, Claudia. But it’s time to step away, dragon.”
Retrieve the gold piece. Do it. His dragon sounded desperate. We need it to seed a new hoard.
I have it. Concentrate on the fight, Tharius.
He picked up the crack of branches underfoot, the grunts and shouts of the approaching warriors. One, two, until six dived into the clearing sloping smoothly towards the mountain.
Four warriors and two wyverns. Claudia stooped for the coin, nodding him to go. They’ll want you to fight them one at a time. You can take them.
She sounded more hopeful than sure. Not a good sign.
Hell’s bells, it’s Serllia. Claudia slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide. The seer appeared, clinging to the third wyvern’s shoulders, his eyes glazed from her thrall. Had he ever witnessed a more ridiculous sight?
We shouldn’t be laughing. She’s out for blood. Tharius, did you really kiss her?
Yes.
Oh. I guess you had your reasons.
He saw the effort with which Claudia pasted on the false smile. Female sensibilities were the same no matter what the species. A burst of laughter accompanied Serllia’s entrance. The gathered warriors meant to make sport of the enthralled wyvern. The seer beat out a crease in her gown and then shook her broken rattle at each of them in challenge. They turned their backs muttering, the laughter dying away. Serllia spat in disgust and made her way across the clearing.
Yes, I had my reasons. Explain later. Claudia would understand. Eventually.
He couldn’t keep his hands off me. Have you told her we rutted like animals? That you demanded more and moaned your allegiance with your cock in my mouth. Serllia tried to sidle up to him, a flat palm roving his biceps. He shoved her away, noticing she felt lighter, weaker. All to the good.
Without me, you will remain this pitiful creature. I can return to you the thrill of flight. You remember the warm wind lifting your wings as you soared to kiss the face of the gods? You cannot hide your yearning, dragon.
Yes, I long for that. Why would I deny it? But the Draegon know the value of sacrifice. And in sacrifice, I find a much greater treasure.
It was a good speech and true. None knew the pain of his dragon, tearing at the cage walls, demanding release. None felt the crushing sadness that would never leave him for visiting this indignity on his noble beast. Sacrifice always involved pain, but in the balance of life, in Claudia, he still came out ahead.
A dragon could ask for little more than that.
I know she’s lying, Tharius. Claudia cut through his thoughts. I can help you find your dragon, Tharius. It’s not all lost, and it might take me years, but I’ll help you to my dying breath.
“You are worth the sacrifice,” he said simply and clearly, though they may not have un
derstood his intent. He wanted it out there, undisputed, that Tharius of Dra’Kathis made this sacrifice willingly for the sake of his mate and unborn child.
He touched a light finger to Claudia’s cheek, reluctant to let her go, then turned to address the warriors watching with suspicion, others with unveiled lust.
“I will fight all six of you for this prize. Those of you not prepared to meet your makers this day, step away now in cowardly shame.”
Claudia’s knuckles turned white from holding together the torn gown, and it was he who felt the shame. To let his mate, quickening with his child, come to this? He peeled off his vest and flung it away. Flexed his fist and cursed his useless arm. He’d be fighting on faith alone, for only the gods knew his weakness and his strength.
I’m proud of you, Tharius. Go get them. Claudia threw herself at his chest, pressing as though she wished to become a part of him. She already was. One of the waiting warriors whistled, another called out an obscenity. I can’t stop the fight. But I can play a few tricks on the contenders. Stay alive, please stay alive.
He pressed his forehead to hers, sealing the connection between them.
It is you who must stay alive. If I fall this day, you will be there to bring me back. Do you understand, Claudia? For that, you must live. If you can, run, and I will keep them at bay. Run and don’t look back.
I’m not sure that’s how it works. I can’t leave you. Not with the cameras watching. I can’t bring the actual dead back to life.
Claudia. He stopped her thoughts with a finger to her lips. You bade me think like you. So, imagine the spectacle of you bringing me back in front of those eyes. Imagine the rewards.
Oh, Dio, you’re good at this. Try not to let it come to that.
I have every intention of staying alive and seeing our son grow to his prime.
Or daughter.
He nodded and stepped away. Or daughter.
They both felt the ember flare at the word.
He walked into the clearing, head held high, to the pounding palms of the seer clapping together to a slow, mocking beat.
“So, who will be first?” he said balling his fist. An orb was already admonishing a contender for wrapping his knuckles with twine to harden his punches. Skin to skin that was the order. And if that did not suit, then step aside and let another take their place. The warrior unwound the twine and stood his ground. Eternal shame followed anyone who backed down now.
Stop worrying about me, Tharius. Concentrate only on the fight.
He did not look back. This distant planet called Earth appeared to produce females with the courage of a male. A thought that would once have scandalised, but now made him glad. Their child was safe with her.
No one knew battle calm better than General Tharius. And none here had more to fight for than he.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Your faith wavers, Claudia.” Serllia stood too close, physically, mentally. She tossed her chin at Tharius waiting for the operator’s command. “He will feel that in every blow.”
“I’m only human, Serllia.” Why deny it? Humanity was one of her greatest strengths. “It’s the doubt that gives us the edge. You wouldn’t understand that.”
A tinny fanfare burst from the largest, diamond-shaped box. The live feeds were streaming, audiences engaged. Like a runaway train, this ended only with a crash and a body count.
The warriors were first up. The wyverns saved for the grand finale. Unfair, when Tharius would be at his weakest, but when did the Corporation ever do fair? The first blow struck. Claudia wanted to close her eyes, get through this without having to watch each bloom of blood on his skin, each searing flash of pain as the punches struck home.
She jumped easily into the first contenders head. Serllia was already there, blocking her. The warrior shook his head, confused for long enough to take the first ringing blow.
Tharius moved amazingly fast, ducking under the second blow. Claudia fought her own battle with Serllia in the contender’s head. The seer gave her little resistance. She had her own winner in mind, and it wasn’t this first challenger.
Tharius twisted, keeping the opponent to the right of him so he could more easily swing with his left. Within ten seconds the warrior was down with Tharius poised above him, his boot pressed to the fallen male’s skull.
“Kill or be killed,” the controller ordered. “Last man alive gets the prize. The viewers have spoken.”
Serllia leaned forward, her long tongue darting out to wet her lips in anticipation. Almost as if tasting the blood oozing from the male’s ears and mouth. Claudia closed her eyes and still the images came.
Doing what he has to do. Dio, what a horrible world this is.
A murmur of what sounded too much like satisfaction rippled around the contestants. The weakest of them down. The others in no doubt of victory.
That would soon change.
Veton tugged negligently at his sleeve, his gaze lifting to the seer.
“You’ve made a deal with him?”
“Of course. He has my protection, in return for certain concessions.”
Claudia probed experimentally and saw only a blank wall. Veton turned his gaze on her, a dark promise in his eyes.
“You’ll be in his harem before the sun sets.”
“Then he’ll be fucking me from his grave.”
“Such profanity from such innocent lips.” Serllia shook her head. “Look how hopefully they step up, when the outcome is already set. I have seen it, while you cannot see neither your own future, nor that of the dragon man now that his destiny is so entwined with your own. Such a shame.”
“You’re seeing what you want to see, Serrlia.”
“I’m never wrong, Claudia.”
“There’s always a first time.”
Every crack of fist on flesh, every grunt went on camera. Each bright splash of blood. None in the war-band stood as a match to a dragon in half-shift. Even a one-armed creature newly born from stone. One by one, they fell, baptising the sacred ground with their blood.
“Now, Veton.” Serllia lifted her rattle, muttering her spells and curses. Claudia searched and probed, looking for a way into Veton’s mind. He paid her no heed and stripped off his jerkin, revealing the lighter green of his shoulders and chest built like a tank, a neck that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a bull, and biceps like beach balls. Silver hair fell about his shoulders, and his gaze had the intensity of a crill-bird.
He never looked like that in the camp.
“He knows the benefits of an alliance with me. Othrid is a dead man. Long live Veton.”
Tharius threw the first blow, flattening Veton’s nose in an explosion of grey-green blood. Veton palmed his mashed face and threw an accusing glare at Serllia.
Renege on our deal and you’re dead seer.
I’m with you Veton. Watch his left.
The punch caught Veton’s cheekbone. He ducked, taking Tharius on his defenceless right. Tharius twisted, using his broken shoulder as a battering ram. Veton staggered and slapped the ground with one hand to stop from going down.
“The dragon is tiring.”
And he still has to face the wyverns. They were pacing the clearing, pumping blood to muscles, grunting out affirmations. Claudia’s nemesis stood, arms folded, holding her in his sights. She gave him a shaky wave for the camera’s benefit. His face turned a livid red.
“They will not fight this day. Not if Veton finishes the dragon.”
“Do you really want Tharius dead?”
“No, in truth I would prefer that he joins with me. But since he is intent on being so stubborn on giving up his full dragon, he can go to his dark gods with my blessing.”
Serllia didn’t mean a word of that. Memories of the kiss percolated the seer’s mind, setting off a yearning more worthy of a love-sick sixteen-year-old.
“You liked it when he kissed you? You want him to do it again?”
Tharius was on his knees, winded by a punch to the stomach. Ve
ton’s boot lifted. Tharius rolled and the stamping foot hit the dirt in a squelching splatter of mud. Claudia fought to stay in place though she would die there with him if it came to that.
No, Claudia. I have it. Stay back.
“Claudia.” Serllia spoke like one explaining something difficult to a small child. “I win whoever wins. Don’t you see? If you can put wyverns in thrall, imagine what I can do with dragons.”
Serllia puffed herself up for the camera, too bedraggled by the rain and the rough ride on the wyvern’s back to provide much of a spectacle. Where was hair and make-up when they needed it?
“You know nothing of dragons.” Tharius was up, kicking out with a heavy boot. Blood streamed from his nose and the corner of his mouth, running in a river over his chin and neck. Veton rocked on his toes, weaving and watching. Good, but absent Serllia’s help, still no match for a dragon.
Claudia saw the moment Serllia’s strength flowed into him. He almost seemed to glow with it.
Watch out, Tharius. Serllia is helping him.
I know. But still, stay back. Too distracting.
It was a double-edged sword. She’d be throwing Tharius energy in fits and starts, likely doing more harm than good as he sorted through her intents and decided how to use it. She could only work on Serllia and the source of Veton’s strength.
The orbs whizzed about the clearing, dipping and diving, feeding the live streams with every expression, every nuance. The rain held off, and at their back, trees in full leaf whispered in the breeze. In front of them rose the sacred mountain, with its silent pall of smoke hanging at the peaks.
Tharius, this is your home. The land of your birth. Take strength from that.
If there was ever power in the land, then it was here in the holy mountain they said gave fire to dragons.
Do you know how old I am, Claudia?
Older than you let on, for sure. You don’t want them to hear this?
And you’re not going to tell. Or I’ll order Veton to finish it now.
STONE DRAGON: A Prison Moon Series Romance Novel Page 24
