The social and military officials – other than the War Lord – should already be gathering. The moment the sun was split by the horizon both Ediskrad and Nikana would prepare for the Duel.
It would hardly take either of them any time. It would take Ediskrad even less as he had been nursing his preparation for the last hour. The powdered Salēktral root he had slipped in his goblet of wine would dull the pain of any injuries incurred for the rest of the evening. Furthermore it would pump his blood and invigorate him. He would not lose to Nikana.
It appeared the officials were gathering on time. The highest ranking social official, Chair of the Peoples, was framed in the open door way. He bowed from the door – a strategic move to avoid showing greater preference before the results of the Duel were determined. Ediskrad wouldn’t fault the man for it – this time.
“Highest Majesties, the official witnesses have gathered. The people of the city are soon to gather for the Poyat celebration. Everything is in readiness – as soon as you are ready, of course.”
“What is the sun’s position?” Nikana demanded, before Ediskrad could.
I should have killed you cycles ago... Ediskrad thought vehemently. Oh well, that gross error of judgment on my part will soon be rectified.
“It is but a few minutes from being split by the horizon, Highest Majesties.”
Nikana turned to look at Ediskrad for the first time since the challenge of a duel had been issued. “What do you say to getting this started a little ahead of schedule?” Ediskrad almost laught at Nikana’s poor attempt at a sneer and at the simplicity of it – Nikana would die even sooner than he had expected, perhaps even before the last rays of light dwindled from the sky.
It is your death, Ediskrad thought as he threw the remainder of the doctored wine into his throat. “That will work for me,” he declared with a benign shrug of his shoulder.
*
Halden was grateful that the woman had at least cooperated with him when he had opened the chest holding the costume the Kings intended her to wear. Apparently the too-big robe hadn’t afforded her as much of a barrier as she wanted between her person and the Kings.
He had tried keeping his eyes averted as he had helped her into the various twists and swaths and braids of fabric, but Halden had seen more than he had intended to while attempting to think through the challenge facing him.
It is not possible that I can take her to bond…The thought made Halden realize that he had no idea what name to call the woman.
“What are you called?” Halden asked as he bent to help her get the tops of the long, leather slipper boots fastened to the soft braces he had told her to fasten about the top of each of her thighs.
“My name is Matrise – what are you doing?” Her voice squawked a little at the end.
“Fastening the top of the shaft to the dangle of the bracers you put on earlier…where is it. I said to fasten them tightly around the tops of your legs.”
“I did.” Matrise insisted as she slapped at his hands when they slid up under the long drape of the costume.
“You did not – they would be easy to find if you had,” Halden countered.
“You didn’t say to put them on over the leggings!”
Halden froze for a moment – the thought of how the bracers and slipper boots would look on her bare skin made his mouth water. Getting her into more clothing was supposed to help against this onslaught of lust! Not make it worse!
“Move!” the woman pushed at his shoulders as she spoke. “I can do it.”
*
Officially – the man was impossible. The damn things had looked like garters, and considering how they were being used, they were garters…of the outer ware variety.
How am I supposed to know that they go over these thin legging like things? And if they go over, that means that the fabric of these legging-like things is going to bunch up underneath them – no thank you.
Matrise turned away from the large man, Halden – he said his name was Halden, and worked the snug shafts of the flat, dove-gray leather boots up over her calves, past her knees, and mid-way up her thighs, beneath the floaty fabric of the leggings she had been handed with the garters.
She shoved the floaty fabric back down, let the heavier material of the – would one call it a dress or a robe? – over garment she wore, fall back in place. Matrise turned back around and nearly jumped with surprise.
He was right there.
Matrise had never heard the man move, had never sensed him coming within inches of her. Now that he was so close the scent that she had been catching wisps of hit her full in the face.
She couldn’t tell if the smell was his personal scent or one that he had applied, but it didn’t matter. Matrise had the undeniable urge to take a bath in that sent. The fragrance of woods and blooming spices washed over with a spring rainstorm teased at her senses.
Yum! If that is a perfume, I need to get a bottle. If that is just what he smells like, that is grossly unfair.
*
The sun was setting. The dwindling light was at the perfect angle to cast the room in a brilliant glow. Unfortunately for Halden, that glow continued onto Matrise. She stood in front of him, prettily wrapped in swaths of pricey master-woven fibers the color of soft smoke and white silver. Her hair gleamed like a cast crown and her brilliant eyes blazed in the dimming light.
As he stared, Halden realized that he had no other choice. He couldn’t give her to the victorious King. Every base instinct inside of him that identified her as his mate refused such a suggestion.
Halden knew that he would doubtless find death for his next decision, but there was no other choice he could make. He would help the woman from another world and marked with the most powerful natural force one could find on Rodnekow'E escape. It would be best to find a way to return her to whatever world she had come from – but that would be better than handing her over to either of the Kings.
*
Nikana stepped into the great hall. The room was already decorated in the spirit of the Poyat. He imagined how much he would relish Ediskrad’s humiliation when he lost. Ediskrad had always thought himself to be better. Nikana’s twin would learn better today.
Nikana knew that he, himself, was faster, more agile with his blade than Ediskrad. Ediskrad liked to flaunt his physical strength, and expected his opponent to hold still so that he could show that strength off. Nikana; however, knew to move, to cause damage over a period of a fight; so that his opponent would tire and eventually be forced to yield.
The officials had gathered. They formed a ring around the center of the room. Soon, they would witness his power. He would be the only King of Rodnekow'E.
*
Ediskrad spun the new blade in his hand and tested the weight on his arm. It was inferior. There was no question of that, but as Nikana preferred to parry and jab at an opponent instead of crushing them with great sweeping swipes of the blade, Ediskrad could afford for the blade to be inferior, as it was easily half the weight of his normal blade.
Ediskrad had had the mock-up of his true sword sharpened and had kept it as one never knew when such a thing might come in handy.
Now he knew why he had kept it. It was comedic, Ediskrad thought; that he should secure his throne, that he should slay his twin with an inferior blade. Slipping the light mock-up into the sheath that hung from the bracers on his shoulders laterally across the small of his back, Ediskrad left his royal over robe in the antechamber and strode into the great hall.
*
Halden heard the first gong. Apparently the duel was starting.
“What was that?” Matrise asked. “Do they announce the setting sun here?”
“No, that was to mark the beginning of the duel.” At his answer, Halden watched the woman five the window a hard stare. He could practically hear her contemplating whether she would be able to fling herself from the window before he could grab ahold of her.
To prevent Matrise from testing her theory, Halden re
ached out and wrapped his fingers firmly around her upper arm. She shifted to look up at him.
“It is unnecessary for you to consider that option.” He commented simply.
She smirked, but the expression was wholly lacking in humor. “Oh? You would rather find whichever of them wins dead in the morning.”
“No, because you will not kill the King.”
“Well, I am not going to be bonding with him.”
“No you are not. I will help you escape, but you have to agree to follow my instructions expressly.”
“Why would you?” She began.
“Because I will not watch you cast yourself bodily from the tower, nor will I return in the morning required to slay you for murdering the King.”
“The Kings are both assholes,” the woman muttered.
“Regardless, and a woman shouldn’t use that kind of word,” Halden chastised.
“Too bad for you as it is one of my favorites,” Matrise countered.
Shaking his head, Halden sighed heavily. His father would have been quite amused at his son’s fate – treason was nothing, an attitudinal mate. The now dead old man would have relished meeting this off-world woman.
“We must leave now if you are to escape. Where we are going is dangerous to an R'kowe, it will be even more so for you. That is why you must agree to listen to what I tell you. You risk death otherwise.”
*
Matrise considered making a stink over Halden’s insistence; however, she didn’t want to die today to tomorrow. She was suspicious of his seemingly sudden offer to help her escape.
She did not trust the large man’s motives. Matrise could tell that there was more to Halden’s offer to help her than what she could see on the surface as he seemed to have changed his tune rather quickly.
Still, she didn’t have much to lose – one way or the other she was facing death, on one side she was looking at a potential rape and the need to kill someone before she reached the death mark. Considering her situation, Matrise would risk the large, compelling man in front of her.
“Fine,” she finally answered.
Halden’s bronze body seemed to ripple, and then he grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him from the room. They cut through a couple of equally gaudy rooms before reaching a seemingly endless spiral of stairs leading downward. Set against the wall at the top of the landing was a coarse fabric wrapped bundle, against which leaned a sword.
A sword? Seriously, a sword? I haven’t seen one like that outside a display at the Battles and Wars Museum.
Halden released Matrise’s hand to shrug into a leather harness that supported the dangling sword. He hefted the wrapped bundle onto his shoulder and turned back to Matrise. She didn’t even see it coming. On Earth she had been considered too plump for a man to lift her, so she had no reason to recognize the look of male intent.
A soft squeal escaped her lips as the towering man lifted her with one arm. He hiked her up onto his upper back, bidding her to take a good hold of the harness supporting his sword as he wrapped his arm and around her rear and dangling thighs. Then the crazed giant took the stairs at an insane pace.
*
Ediskrad winced. Nikana could move; it seemed as if his twin’s sword multiplied and struck multiple places at one. The slices stung only slightly, thanks to the Salēktral root he had slipped into his wine – still, they were an irritant.
Nikana wasn’t unscathed in their match. No, a maliciously satisfied smile teased at the corners of his mouth, the sharpened mock-up had been performing exceptionally. He could still see Nikana’s shocked expression from when the first quick hit had found its mark. The blade was faster than Nikana was used to, it was faster than he expected from Ediskrad.
As expected the Salēktral had also pumped up his energy and endurance. He wouldn’t wear down as most did when combatting against Nikana. No, he would last – he would get his opening – he would win and Nikana would be nothing more than a lifeless body in a pool of blood on the floor. Ediskrad could almost taste the flesh of the woman that would be his prize along with absolute power and he couldn’t wait to claim her.
Nikana came in fast. The hit he landed reverberated harshly up the inferior blade. Ediskrad worried for a moment that the weak metal of the sword would fail to hold under the onslaught. It held, but Ediskrad considered the strength of Nikana’s strike to be a warning. It was time to find his opening and end his twin’s existence.
*
Halden’s heavy boots landed with a thud on the stone floor of the main level. He paused, waiting, listening for other sounds. The buzz of murmurs reverberating against stone hummed down the hall from the great hall. He turned in the opposite direction and as quietly as possible moved down the long hall.
His position as War Lord had afforded Halden the opportunity to roam about the palace, to study the halls and the rooms, to learn the layout – the ins and outs.
During his explorations he had found an interesting series of connected chambers and halls descending the face of the cliff. He had been astounded when he had followed that path to find an exit from the palace in the Lower Jungle.
Matrises absence and his own betrayal of the Kings would be discovered before they reached the Lower Jungle, but it was unlikely that many people knew of the round-about path to the Lower Jungle through the palace. Even the hunters descended through the city. He was counting on that delay to successfully escape into the dense maze of the jungle.
He hoped they would make it to Sidel, the lost city would provide Matrise with shelter while he tried to find a way to send her back to wherever she came from. Some of the old Power could be harnessed in Sidel, perhaps it would hold the answer.
*
After Halden had started moving again after his suicidal dash down the stairs, the man had quietly bolted down a quiet, wide hall. When he turned into a small, self-contained room Matrise had been sure she had made a mistake in trusting the man. But his pushed aside a decorative wall hanging to reveal a tiny closet of an antechamber that led to a miserably narrow hall.
She wondered if the large man would develop a case of stone “rash” through the sleeves of his shirt since his arms kept brushing the close walls. The narrow halls led to other small rooms, those small rooms would have a hidden or an obviously unused staircase or attached hallway.
The path was so convoluted, Matrise was astounded that the man wasn’t lost. Of course with his sphinx face, they could be lost and running in a descending circle to hell and she wouldn’t know it looking at those black and gold eyes.
As the walls narrowed and the ceilings lowered, Matrise was grateful that the man had insisted in wrapping her in as much fabric as he had, it was increasingly frigid. The further into the underbelly of the palace they went the colder the stone was, the colder the air around them.
*
Nikana was panting – he couldn’t understand it. Ediskrad had never had this kind of speed and certainly not the measure of stamina he was exhibiting. Nikana’s twin didn’t flinch at the quick jabs and slices Nikana delivered to his flesh. Ediskrad shifted and moved.
Nikana could tell that the man was looking for that end-game opening. Damned if he would provide Ediskrad with it. As the duel had continued, Nikana had a breath stealing realization. This duel was not to the disarmament or debilitation of the other. No, for Ediskrad, this duel was to the death.
It was a terrible realization that Ediskrad had meant for him to die all along. Nikana could see it in the eyes that were mirrors of his own. He could see it in the snarl that twisted lips that matched his own.
There would only be one King after tonight. There would only be one King because the other Twin would be upon the cool stone floor in a pool of his own blood.
No, he couldn’t afford to give Ediskrad the opening he was looking for. Unfortunately, Nikana’s arms were heavy, sweat poured down his flesh weakening his grip on the pommel of his sword. If he didn’t find his own opening, Nikana knew that Ediskrad would find hi
s.
*
Ediskrad the potency of the Salēktral root had waned. He was feeling the pain of the wounds that littered his flesh. Still Nikana was slowing. Ediskrad’s twin’s blows were decreasing in strength. Nikana was tiring at last.
Ribbons of blood and drops of sweat slicked the floor. Ediskrad saw the trap and instead maneuvered Nikana into it. His twin’s boot slipped. The opening had finally presented itself.
Ediskrad dropped his guard and while taking the defensive stab of Nikana’s blade along his hip, Ediskrad swing the lighter sword in a high arc, pushing the power of his arms and back into the blow as the blade came crashing down across his brother’s chest.
It sliced through the sweat drenched shirt and skin. The inferior sword broke at the pommel, but not before it had fully embedded in Nikana’s body.
As one King – a former King – collapsed to the floor, everyone could see the point of the broken sword spearing from the fallen man’s shoulder and the jagged edge poking out from just above his hip.
The rest of the sword blade was so fully embedded in his chest and torso that it was only marked above the eruption of blood by a narrow, silver stripe nearly level with the fallen’s rent skin.
Ediskrad stood over Nikana as his life poured out of him, spilling to the floor of the great hall with his blood. He watched as the red eyes that matched his own froze and glazed over in death. He straightened, tossed the pommel of the broken sword aside and surveyed the room of officials that had witnessed the duel.
Alien Lords' Captive (Celestial Mates Book 6) Page 5
