“Kaas is here, at the chute,” he said.
A moment later, he nodded as he said, “Sure thing,” and hung up.
He swung open the door, and with a mock bow and sweeping arm, said, “Entre vous, si vous plait.”
Aiden ignored the man’s mocking tone and entered the arena. There was a sudden hush as people in the stands, a good twenty feet above the arena floor, stopped talking and turn to focus on him. Aiden stared brazenly back at them.
The silence was quickly broken as people started talking all at once. There were only about 20 of them in the seats, but a few immediately left. With him present, Aiden figured that word would get out, and more would flock to the arena.
He was right.
Within minutes, as Aiden stood there, trying to project quiet confidence, the number of people had tripled, at least, with more coming in. Claire, Kashmala, and two other villagers were among them. The plan stipulated that they were not to acknowledge Aiden, but Claire gave him a measure wink.
Follow the plan! he thought at her, but feeling better none-the-less.
Aiden surreptitiously toed the sand under his feet. Executions inside the castle always took place in the arena, Hozan had said, where the sand absorbed the blood. Aiden tried to ignore the faded dark spots scattered around the arena floor. They might be blood, they might not, and Aiden didn’t want to know.
Fifteen minutes later, he was starting to get angry. He hadn’t expected the Prime Alpha to be there waiting for him, not even knowing if he would show up, but nowhere in the castle was 15 minutes away from the arena. Aiden didn’t know if Wais was waiting for more witnesses to show or as part of a game to break Aiden’s nerve.
If he’d have to bet, though, he’d bet on the latter.
It was twenty minutes before a tall, distinguished-looking man entered the spectators’ area, accompanied by several others. Aiden didn’t need anyone to tell him this was Günter Wais. The extreme confidence with which he moved gave the man away.
The crowd, which had grown to about 100 or so, immediately quieted as Wais made his way to raised platform overlooking the middle of the arena. He didn’t sit, though, but leaned forward, his hand on the edge of the wall, and stared down at Aiden.
“Well, Mr. Kaas, we finally meet,” he said, his voice rather pleasant, which almost masked the contempt that man obviously had for Aiden.
Aiden felt a surge of subservience, a need to get on his knees in front of his Prime Alpha.
Snap out of it! He wants to kill you!
Aiden said nothing, but stood, hands clasped behind his back, and stared up at Wais.
When it became obvious that Aiden was going to remain silent, Wais continued with, “I have to give you credit. I didn’t think you would honor this summons.”
“No!” Aiden said, ready for his cue.
“It pains me to . . . what? You were summoned, and you are here. Why do you say no?”
Aiden repressed a smile, but he loved it that he’d broken Wais’ concentration.
“I say again, no!”
“I’m not sure I understand, Mr. Kaas,” Wais said, regaining his I’m-in-control tone of voice.
“It is simple. I am not here because of your summons,” he called out, his voice firm and loud. “I am here to challenge you as Prime Alpha!”
Chapter 43
The spectator gallery went silent. It was good ten seconds before the silence was broken by Günter Wais, his laugh filling the arena.
Aiden felt a wave of uncertainty flow over him. He hadn’t expected Wais to mock him, and no matter what Aiden said or did, it was still up to Wais to accept the challenge.
“You? You’re challenging me? That’s precious. You’re a kreuzung, and so you aren’t even allowed to challenge me, as if you were even a threat.”
Wais seemed genuinely amused, which was not the reaction Aiden had hoped to illicit.
“I am not a kreuzung! I am a blood, and as such, I have every right to challenge you!” he shouted back.
“I assume you are referring to the report that was sent to us. Look, I gave you the courtesy of summoning you instead of sending out a hunter team because of that report, but understand, that was only a courtesy,” Wais said, subtly shifting his position so that he was speaking to the gathered crowd rather than just to Aiden. “Even if the findings are correct, something I do not accept, you are still a half-breed. Your dam was human!”
“Voice!” Hozan shouted out from where he was sitting. “I claim Voice and yield to Dr. Lopez!”
Wais spun around, now fully engaged with the spectators as he searched for and spotted the person who had the temerity to impede him.
“Ah, Hozan Kamaran Mardin, the kreuzung’s mentor. Of course. Unfortunately, you are a blood, and so I must hear your Voice, or rather Dr. Lopez’ Voice, now that you have yielded to him. Dr. Lopez, are you here?”
For a moment, Aiden was afraid the doctor had not shown up, but the man stood up from the back of the crowd.
“Dr. Lopez, do you have something to interject?” Wais asked.
“I didn’t know I had anything, but now I see why I was asked to attend the summons. I was the one to test Mr. Kaas, and I can say without hesitation that he is a blood.”
“But his dam is a human. And who is his sire?”
“His sire is evidently a feral. We are trying to track him down now.”
“Oh, his dam is a human,” he said, scorn in his voice at the word as he played to the gathered Tribe, “and his sire is a feral. Yes, very good lines there. And you say he’s a blood?”
“Yes, by definition, he’s a blood. I’ve sent my results to Dr. Singh, and he agrees with me.”
A murmur swept through the crowd, which Aiden hoped was a good sign.
“I still say that Kaas is a half-breed, and he is not suited to become Prime Alpha. As such, I reject his challenge, and I will move to the summons.”
Aiden’s heart fell. Under a summons, his life was in Wais’ hands. With a challenge, Aiden could and would impact that happened to him.
“Voice,” another person called out.
The look of annoyance was evident as Wais swung back to look out at the spectators.
“Yes, Mr. Zuyev?”
Aiden didn’t know of a Zuyev, but he would accept any bone thrown his way.
“From my own family, Victor Kalyagin was Prime Alpha.”
“Yes, we all know Kalyagin. What has that to do with this?”
“Victor was a half-breed blood, as you term Mr. Kaas here. I am surprised you do not know your history. And if Victor was deemed acceptable, I would say that Mr. Kaas is as well.”
“Thank you for your history lesson, but that was more than a century ago. Times have changed, and Mr. Kaas has jeopardized the Tribe.”
“Whether Mr. Kaas has jeopardized the Tribe has yet to be determined. But my family has helped keep the Tribe alive, and I do not like your implications on half-breeds. I am an ‘eighth-breed,’ if I can say that. Am I worth less than you? I think not, and I am ready to call for a Council vote on the question.”
Wais seemed about to argue, but after looking around the arena, he evidently gave in.
“No offense to your family, Valentin Zuyev, and no offense to you. With respect to our Tribe’s history, I will accept that Mr. Kaas has the right to a challenge.”
Aiden could barely see Zuyev from the middle of the arena, but the man nodded and sat back down. Relief swept over him.
Wais turned back to give Aiden a long look, a look full of confidence.
“A challenge takes precedence over a summons, this I know. So, Mr. Kaas, it seems as if I must accept your challenge. Of course, if anyone else wishes First Rights with Mr. Kaas, I cannot stand in their way.”
Without taking his eyes off Aiden, he turned over his right hand, palm up, indicating the men who’d accompanied him. All three got up in unison.
Take the long way! Aiden silently pleaded with them as Claire, Kashmala, and the other two tense
d, ready to move.
The three didn’t hesitate but made their way to the door. They’d be going down the stairs and around in back of the arena, to enter it from the chute.
Keenan, it’s on you!
Aiden tried to look relaxed, back to the chute door, as he waited. And waited. And waited.
Every second, he expected to hear the door open, and each second that he didn’t gave him a tiny bit more confidence.
Wais waited as well, staring down at Aiden, and as the time progressed, the tiniest shadow doubt passed over his eyes.
A low murmur rose from the crowd as nothing was happening.
A door opening almost made Aiden jump, but it was the door leading into the spectator gallery. Izat, one of the villagers, stepped in and nodded to Kashmala. With Claire and the other two, she rose and moved to the door, before turning back, pulling out a Makarov 9 mm pistol and crossing it over her chest. The other three and Izat positioned themselves alongside of her.
Their meaning was clear, as was why no one had shown up in the arena to challenge Aiden first. The crowd might not know the specifics, but something had happened to stop the three potential challengers. Just as they had the right of First Rights, so could anyone else challenge them first.
Heads turned towards each other as whispered conversations broke out as they tried to understand who was supporting whom.
Only Aiden and the five at the door understood what had happened, however. There were no challenges, no single combat. Aiden had simply used basic infantry tactics. In too many ways, werewolves were loners, which was surprising to him given the nature of wolves in the wild. But they weren’t wolves—they just had physical characteristics of wolves, not the hard-wiring of the animals. And as essentially loners, organizations could defeat them. Keenan had organized a simple squad-sized ambush in the corridors. Armed with knives and handguns, weapons easy to bring in as there hadn’t been even a token search, the three challengers had been waylaid.
Probably killed, Aiden acknowledged, although he preferred the waylaid term.
From the dawn of history, from the Spartans at Thermopylae to the Roman legions fighting the Gauls, from the US Marines at Derne to the British Army at Rorke’s Drift, well-trained, well-disciplined soldiers almost always prevailed. Being a werewolf gave Aiden physical gifts, but being a Marine gave him warfighting skills, and those skills always trumped street fighters.
This was a fatal flaw of the Tribe, in Aiden’s opinion. They thought like gladiators, not like soldiers, and just as Spartacus’ slave army was crushed by Crassus’ legions, the Tribe could not stand up to a simple coordinated plan. Even Hozan, who had served with the Peshmergas, couldn’t quite grasp the concept. Despite Keenan recounting to him the case of Horatio at the bridge, he’d argued that the constricted corridors of the castle would hinder rather than be an advantage to the Leewekhelians in keeping any challengers from reaching Aiden in the arena. But this was Aiden’s plan, and Hozan had reluctantly accepted it.
He looked back up at Wais, watching as realization came over him. Four others jumped up to rush the five at the door, but Wais waved them back down. He was not a stupid man, and without knowing just who was out there protecting Aiden, letting them go would be fruitless. Instead, he chose to ignore Claire and the others, and focused back on Aiden.
“As it seems that no one wishes to claim First Rights, it also seems as if we are to proceed with the challenge.”
He slowly took off his clothes, each piece being meticulously folded and placed on his chair until he stood naked, towering over Aiden. Aiden took off his own clothes and kicked them to the side.
Wais was not about to go outside where Aiden’s allies were waiting. With a smile brimming with confidence, he stepped up onto the edge of the low wall and vaulted over it, landing in the sand in a textbook super-hero landing, one knee up, one knee down, and one fist in the sand.
It was impressive, Aiden had to admit.
“You have been a thorn in my side, Kaas, and I’m going to enjoy tearing you apart. So let’s do it,” he said, shifting immediately into his lycan form, an immense, silver-tipped wolf.
Aiden was not yet experienced for such a quick shift, and he had to dodge aside to get out of Wais’ leap, struggling to shift to meet the Prime Alpha.
The fight of his life was on.
Chapter 44
It took Aiden several moments to complete the shift. Technically, the only rule in a challenge was that it started once both sides had shifted. Wais had broken that rule, not that it would really matter if he won the fight. And he’d almost won it immediately.
With Wais charging, Aiden had panicked, and instead of meeting the charge, he’d tried to get away to complete his shift. Wais had scored on Aiden’s shoulder, with Aiden’s stumble and fall the only reason Wais hadn’t clamped on his neck.
But the wolf body came, and Aiden was on even terms with Wais. Except that he wasn’t. Aiden had spent forty hours or so as a lycan, and most of that had been on the run. Wais had years of experience, both in the form and in combat. It was like pushing someone into the ring with a ranked MMA fighter. The neophyte might have the physical attributes, but without the skill, he’d have no chance without a lucky blow.
Aiden would love that lucky blow here, but warriors who relied on luck quickly became dead warriors. He needed to increase his odds. He needed Wais to make a mistake.
As humans, even as vargs, Aiden thought he could bait the arrogant Wais. But as lycans, they couldn’t talk. And it was hard to use body language to enrage an opponent while that opponent was trying to kill you. Pissing on him might work, but Wais was hardly going to stand there and let that happen.
Wais was a veteran fighter, and it became clear that he was not going to rush things that might open himself to chance. He was the better fighter: bigger, stronger, and more experienced. He was not going to take any chances by going for the quick kill. Once his initial rush failed, he seemed content to slow down and methodically take Aiden apart.
Aiden was already bleeding from several scores. He’d heal, but the more Wais inflicted on him, the more stressed his healing ability would become. For now, it was death by a thousand cuts, but Aiden knew the executioner’s sword was hovering over him, just waiting for the opportunity.
Aiden thought he saw an opportunity, a flash of silver throat, and he lunged forward—only to receive a slashing bite to his right forepaw. Wais had baited him in instead, waiting for Aiden to take the bait before dodging back, slashing Aiden’s extended paw as he retreated.
Wais rose up on his hind legs, ready to pounce, and Aiden lunged up for the throat. Both lycans clashed together, the first full collision between the two. Aiden got a mouthful of Wais’ neck, but only the thick ruff protecting the vital throat. His teeth did not meet skin. Wais, on the other hand, tore a chunk out of Aiden’s ear.
Aiden shook hard, pushing into Wais, and was gratified to see his opponent miss his footing and fall to his side.
Wais was up and dancing out of reach before Aiden could react, but it was the first time he’d done anything to the Prime Alpha. He felt the first tiny spark of confidence.
Aiden knew he could not keep going like this without a huge stroke of luck. His only chance would be dirty boxing, or closing in and brawling. That would take away a good bit of Wais’ skill advantage, even if his greater strength would still be in play. But Aiden’s plan was to get close and turn a boxing match—or biting match, as it were—into a wrestling match. Wais was not cooperating, however, darting in and out to shred Aiden’s flesh.
Twice more they closed, with Aiden actually getting a good chunk out of Wais’ side. Wais’ blood seemed to energize Aiden, but its loss didn’t seem to slow down Wais at all.
In and out in a deadly ballet, the two opponents probed for an advantage. It seemed as if the fight had gone on forever, but Aiden knew it probably had been less than two minutes. But the longer it went, the more the advantage shifted to Wais. Aiden knew he had to
close it out, but none of the four opportunities he’d discussed with Hozan and presented itself. He needed Wais to go for one of the several kills for which Hozan had prepared him.
Wais’ kill shot, when it came, was none of those four. When he rose on his hind legs, Aiden had followed, but it had been a feint. Wais dropped down and locked his jaws around Aiden’s right leg, just above the knee. Aiden immediately knew Wais’ intention. With his jaws locked, as soon as he could regain some footing, he would shake Aiden with the powerful muscles in his neck, snapping the relatively fragile knee joint, which was superb for straight-line running, but not built to withstand a heavy lateral force. Aiden’s bones and tendons would snap, leaving him helpless, with nowhere near the time to heal from such a severe injury before Wais would finish him off.
At this angle, Aiden could bite down on the back of Wais’ head, tearing ears and cutting the scalp, but not doing any permanent damage.
Wais’ kill shot was not what Aiden had expected, but a warrior had to improvise. He had no choice if he was going to live.
Aiden shifted, not to varg, but to human, swinging his left leg over Wais’ back and pulling with his arms to mount him. His right leg was still in Wais’ jaws and jacked up in an awkward position, but Aiden was able to snake his right arm under Wais’ throat and lock it in place with his left hand. He pulled back with all his might, arching his back to get more leverage.
With both legs locked around Wais’ body, he had no doubt that he could break Wais’ neck, werewolf lycan strength or not. But his right leg was up in front of him, keeping him from exerting his full strength. Wais, his legs free, braced himself and starting shaking his head violently.
The pain was intense, and Aiden could feel things snap, but a human leg, while not as sturdy as a varg leg, was still much, much sturdier than a lycan leg. He thought his knee might be sprained, but the leg held together. Pushing down with all his might, he straightened Wais’ neck, giving him a better angle.
Wais must have realized that Aiden had shifted—that, or the strain on his throat got to be too much. He let go of Aiden’s leg and tried to twist inside of his grasp.
The Werewolf of Marines Trilogy Page 58
