Davor

by Leslie Chase

  A quick glance left and right told her that they were alone. While she'd been resting her eyes, the guards must have moved the other prisoners. Why did they let me stay?

  "You need more rest than one of the People," Karak said, his smile widening into a leer. "And more water. An expensive guest, but you do have some appealing attributes to pay for your stay with. Be sensible and you will spend your time with me in comfort and luxury, not menial labor like this."

  He reached out with his hand toward her chest, and Helen gasped, dropping the water flask and pulling away. Her hand caught his wrist, keeping his hand off her breast.

  "Get off me or I'll scream," she hissed. He laughed at the threat.

  "Who do you think will come and save you, girl?" Karak taunted. "None of my people will care how I treat my guest."

  "Your father will," Helen said, meeting his eyes and trying to keep her voice steady. "He's using me as leverage against Davor, and he won't be pleased if you damage me."

  Karak leaned back as though she'd slapped him. "You're hiding behind my father? You'd better remember that he won't be here forever, and neither will your friend Davor. But I will still be here when they're gone, and you'll still be mine. Better get on my good side while you have the chance."

  Do you even have a good side? Helen couldn't see a hint of one in his eyes. Karak had all his father's ambition and strength, but none of his patience or his cunning.

  Shaking her head, she pushed his hand away and pulled herself to her feet. He stood too, towering over her, and it took an effort of will to keep looking him in the eyes.

  "The Ard has plans for me," she said, her heart pounding with fear and the hope that he would buy her bluff. "You don't want to get in his way, so you're not going to do anything to me."

  He took a breath to respond, but she kept talking over him. "If you're going to say that you won't harm me, you're wrong. I may not be able to fight you off, but I can fight back hard enough that you'll have to hurt me to stop me. And then what will you tell the Ard?"

  Karak hissed, his face twisting, and she could see his insecurities fighting with his pride. It was close. For a moment she thought she'd misjudged him, that he would risk his father's rage in order to teach her a lesson, but then he turned away and stalked off without a word. Helen watched until he was gone, and then slumped against the wall again, trying to keep her sigh of relief silent.

  Trembling with the fear she'd had to hide in front of him, she took deep breaths, trying to calm down. Davor will find a way out, she told herself firmly. As long as I can get out of here while Tark is still around to keep Karak on a leash, everything will be fine.

  12

  Davor

  The day dragged on for Davor, with no good resolution in sight. He tried to think, even tried to pray to his ancestors for a real sign rather than the fake one Tark was demanding of him, but nothing came. The twin suns rose high in the sky, bathing the camp in punishing heat, and then the first set again, and he was no closer to a plan than before.

  Once the heat started to fade, Tark gathered his guards about him and they left, heading deeper into Fire Wolf territory to deal with whatever disaster his son had left him with. Davor couldn't help smiling at the thought, and hoped that it would give the Ard more trouble than he expected.

  "You look happier than you did yesterday," Gesha said from behind him, making him start. She is quiet as any hunter when she wants to be, and probably as deadly.

  "Yesterday, I was forced to eat with your family," he replied, speaking before thinking. She laughed, putting a hand on his arm.

  "Karak can be a bit much," she said. If she took any offense at his words she hid it perfectly. "And my father, well, I do love him of course but I can see why you might not. Still, it's not them you'll be spending time with..."

  Her voice trailed off, but the sultry look in her eyes left him with no doubt about what she meant. Davor stepped back, pulling away from her, and shook his head. "Do you really think that I'm so easily manipulated?"

  She laughed. "No, of course not. If you were, you'd be no fun at all. But I do think that my father has made you a good offer, and one that you should listen to. None of my brothers are worthy of being Ard after him."

  Frowning, Davor looked down at her and shook his head again. "Are you suggesting that I am?"

  "You might be. And if you're my mate, you'd be qualified," she shook her head, smiling again, and the ambition in her eyes was every bit as powerful as that he'd seen in her father's earlier. "I can't succeed instead of Karak, but you could."

  That might actually work, he thought. If there was any chance of me selling out my Clan and my mate to take this offer, anyway. "You aren't my mate though. I know who is."

  "The alien girl that Karak has taken a liking to?" Gesha laughed again, waving away that objection. "I don't mind, as long as you give me heirs and tell everyone that I'm the female fate chose for you. Do what you like with her."

  Davor stared at her. "I could never treat my mate like that."

  Shrugging, Gesha looked in the direction Tark had left in, watching his dust trail head into the distance.

  "I told you I don't mind, and even if she does, it would have to be better than being stuck with my brother, wouldn't it? He's not going to treat her gently, you know, and for all I care she can live a life of comfort with us. Who knows, perhaps we'll even become friends."

  Davor shook his head, disbelieving. Gesha would say anything to get him to agree, he knew, but leaving Helen in her hands would give her another hostage to hold over him. On the other hand, that would be safer for his mate than having her be treated like a plaything by Karak. That would be awful, and just thinking about it was too painful to bear. Fortunately, he had other plans for Helen, if only he could find a way to act on them.

  "I told your father I'd have an answer for him by sunrise tomorrow," he said, putting off the terrible choice for a little longer. Maybe, just maybe, another answer will turn up before then.

  Gesha turned back to him, a coy half-smile on her lips. "And you know that there's only one option for you, but you'll make me wait anyway, won't you?"

  Just because you say there's only one way doesn't mean I won't find another. He didn't want to say that out loud, didn't trust himself to say anything at all to her. His temper was fraying and saying something to anger Gesha could only make things worse. Instead he shook his head and turned away, heading towards the logging camp.

  Whatever politics his captors threw at him, for today he could lose himself in simple physical labor. And doing his share for the other captives the Fire Wolves used as slaves was only fair, too. It wasn't as though their work quotas were going to be lower if he didn't do his part.

  The hard work cleared his mind, but it didn't make his choices any easier. As the suns dipped towards the horizon again, he found that he was no closer to a decision. Accepting meant that the Fire Wolves would win, and that he'd be a part of their victory. That wasn't acceptable, but neither were the consequences for Helen if he refused. If he accepted, that would buy time to find her a way to escape at the price of his Clan's safety.

  Maybe I should agree, and then betray Tark once Helen is safely away. Davor shook his head at the thought. His honor wouldn't let him swear an oath on a lie like that, and anyway, he knew that Tark would be expecting something like that from him. It was exactly the kind of trick the Fire Wolf Ard would use himself.

  The day drew to a close and he still hadn't made any progress in his thoughts, though at least he'd had a respite from them. When darkness settled over the woods the guards finally called a halt to the work and he made his way back with the other prisoners. His muscles ached from the work but at least that had been an honest day's labor, better than a day dealing with the Fire Wolf leaders would have been.

  The gruel that was served to the workers was cold and thin, but it tasted better to him than the food at Tark's table had the night before. This was free of the taste of hypocrisy. Davor ate hi
s fill as the guards joined their fellow Fire Wolves for a meal of meat and wine — there were already some drunk guards around, and like all of the Fire Wolves' guests, Davor had long ago learned to avoid their hosts in that state. They were likely to pick a fight for the fun of it, and beating them was worse than letting them win.

  Finishing his meager meal, he joined the rest of the workers making their way back into the slave pen. They were evidently the last to return, as the guards shut and bolted the gate behind them. It was a symbolic gesture, really — the gate and fence wouldn't keep them in, but anyone caught outside it would be punished harshly. The taller wall around the settlement itself was watched by tower guards constantly, making escape difficult, if not impossible.

  Davor looked up at the nearest tower and frowned. The temptation to take Helen and run was strong, but the consequences were unthinkable. His Clan would be attacked, and he couldn't be responsible for that. But he couldn't be responsible for Helen's suffering either, and the day's work had done nothing to help him resolve that dilemma. Still wrestling with his choices, he didn't make for the hut where he'd left Samsar. He knew Helen would be there, and how could he think in her presence? All he'd want to do was hold and comfort her, and right now he needed his mind clear. There wasn't much time left before he had to make a choice.

  Pacing along the outer wall, he watched the moon rise higher in the sky as his thoughts warred with each other. Every way he turned there was a problem he couldn't resolve, and he was getting no closer to a solution as the night wore on. Gritting his teeth, he looked up at the Ancient ruins that scarred the surface of the moon, wondering what the point of his ancestors' rebellion against them had been if the Fire Wolves were simply going to enslave everyone again.

  Perhaps it would have been better to never be free than to taste freedom and have it snatched away? The slavery he was being offered was better than most, admittedly, but the gilded cage he and Helen would share if he accepted Tark's offer was still a prison.

  I should speak to her, he finally admitted. Trying to work this out myself isn't getting me anywhere, and it affects her as much as it does me. Maybe she'll even be able to suggest a way out of this trap.

  That thought cheered Davor a little. It wasn't much of a hope, but it was something at least. And if it came to nothing, at least he'd share a few hours with his mate before the dawn. That had to be better than pacing backward and forward on his own.

  Pushing himself away from the wall, he went in search of Helen.

  13

  Helen

  Her day passed in a quiet state of dread, and every second of it Helen longed to see Davor again. She might not know what to do with the big blue warrior, and her feelings for him confused her, but she felt safe and happy with him around. He would protect her, and he didn't make demands of her in return.

  She had the sickening feeling that she needed someone who would keep her safe. The dangers that waited all around her made her long for some respite, and the baking heat was nearly unbearable too. It made for a terrible working day, and she wasn't sure how long she'd be able to put up with it.

  Even if I'm just another slave to these monsters, I won't last long trying to keep up with them. Maybe she'd get used to the heat, and the work, with time? That wasn't exactly a comforting thought, especially as she knew she wasn't being worked particularly hard right now. Cleaning up after the feast wasn't pleasant work, but it was much better than chopping down trees or digging up rocks in a mine. Worst of all, she knew that she wasn't just another slave, and that Karak would take any chance to make her life worse after she'd stood up to him.

  The day wore on and slowly the temperature dropped to something almost pleasant. The decorations for the feast were down, the tables cleaned, the dishes washed. The other prisoners stayed as far away as possible from her, and she could hardly blame them — they could all see that she had attracted the attention of the Ard's son and that was something no one wanted to get caught in. At least it meant that no one was bothering her, apart from him.

  Once the work of cleaning up was done, they were put to work preparing the evening meal. Since Helen knew nothing about the food, she ended up fetching and carrying — not a pleasant task when buckets of water were needed from the village well, and hauling them to and fro left her arms aching by the time she was done. Of course they were only making food for the slaves, a thin gruel that was mostly water — the Fire Wolves didn't trust them to prepare the Clan’s meals, which was probably wise.

  At last, darkness fell and they were allowed to return to their camp to rest. Helen hoped that Davor would be there already, but most of the workers hadn't returned from their tasks yet. The Fire Wolves worked their prisoners into the night, it seemed.

  Hoping that she could keep out of the way of any more trouble until Davor returned, Helen made her way over to the hut where Samsar waited. He smiled and beckoned her in, looking happy to see her. She managed a smile in return before slumping against the wall.

  "I know it's not easy your first few days here," Samsar said from his corner, shaking his head sympathetically. "But don't you worry, that fades as the horror of it all sets in."

  He chuckled darkly at his own joke, and Helen couldn't help smiling a little. "That's really not funny," she said.

  "No, but you'll laugh anyway." Samsar looked serious for a moment. "If you don't, you won't make it through this. Find your humor where you can."

  "I'll try," Helen said, dubiously. "Do you know when Davor will be back?"

  Samsar looked out of the door and shrugged. "Probably not long now. The Fire Wolves won't want to stay out late themselves, they need their beauty sleep after all. The workers will have to eat, though, so you might have to wait until they're done with that. And you never know what our hosts will get into their heads to do, so it could be any time."

  She sighed at that, wishing he was here now. His presence made her feel safe in a way that nothing else here did, but it wasn't just that. Helen found herself missing him for the look in his eyes and the touch of his skin as much as for the way he protected her from danger.

  Sitting down against the wall in the darkness, she tried to keep herself awake and watching for him. But the day's work had taken its toll, and she couldn't keep her eyes from drifting shut.

  With a start, she sat up, knowing that time had passed but not sure how long. The night felt deeper somehow, and the moonlight shining in through the doorway of the hut had moved. Samsar lay asleep on the ground, and Davor was still absent. Helen shivered despite the warmth of the night, peeking outside.

  In the distance, she could hear drunken singing. I suppose our masters don't have to get up for work in the morning, she thought sourly. They can afford to nurse a hangover, and of course they don't care if they disturb our sleep.

  Maybe that had been what woke her? She couldn't tell, but she was worried about Davor's absence. Where is he? I hope he hasn't done anything stupid.

  Helen couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities. Had he gotten so angry that he had done something that the Fire Wolves couldn't ignore? Or had he decided to take up their offer, was he not coming back to the slave camp? The thought of Davor sleeping in Gesha's arms filled Helen with outrage and made her want to spit, but she couldn't get it out of her head. She knew he wouldn't do that, but part of her thought that she couldn't blame him if he did. Who wouldn't jump at a chance to get out of this hell-hole and into a life of relative comfort.

  Well, me for one, she reminded herself, thinking of Karak with a shudder. If she wouldn't make that trade, then why was she afraid that Davor would?

  Trying to clear her mind, she stepped out of the hut and walked in the moonlight, hoping that the walk would help quiet her mind. Or, better yet, that she'd meet Davor and find out what had kept him away.

  The camp was quiet, aside from the sounds of their captors across the wall. Prisoners slept curled up on the hard ground, far too many to fit in the few crude huts. None of them stirred as sh
e walked past. They'd had hard days too, harder than hers in most cases.

  No one else moved in the small cluster of huts, so she walked out them. The strange alien moon lit the scene well enough that she could see where she was walking, but where the shadows of the walls fell it was pitch black, so dark she couldn't make out anything. Making her way towards the gate to the Fire Wolf village, she tried to look for Davor in the darkness. Surely by now he had to be here somewhere?

  Ahead of her, the gate creaked open just enough for someone to slip through, and Helen's heart leaped. Hurrying forward, she tried to contain her excitement. But then she saw who it was she was approaching, and froze in place.

  "Well, well," Karak growled quietly, his voice slurred with wine. Grabbing her by the arm with lightning speed, he leered at her. "Eager to come and see me, were you? I was just coming to find you."

  His breath stank of alcohol and he moved unsteadily, but he was still too fast for her to escape. His fingers dug into her skin with bruising strength and Helen bit down on a scream. She knew he wouldn't hesitate to hurt her if it would shut her up.

  "Let me go," she hissed, keeping her voice low. "You know my answer."

  Karak's laugh was dark and threatening. "Yes, I know what you said, you stupid bitch. You're too dumb to know what's good for you. But no one will know to blame me if you're found dead in the morning, so you watch how you treat me tonight."

  Coward. Helen thought better of saying it out loud, but couldn't keep the look of contempt from her face. Karak wasn't afraid to hurt a helpless woman if he could avoid being blamed for it.

  The flash of anger in his red eyes told her that, drunk as he was, he'd understood her look perfectly. With blinding speed he lashed out, the back of his hand smacking across her face and driving her to the ground with a startled gasp. It happened so quickly that for a moment it didn't even hurt, and then the stinging pain set in.