Davor

by Leslie Chase

  In the midst of the melee, Tark roared in rage, charging with his bodyguards. They were the last organized force left on the Fire Wolves' side, but they might yet turn the tide. Davor could see that there were still too many of the enemy, and if Tark managed to rally them, victory was still in his grasp.

  I'll just have to make sure that doesn't happen, Davor thought, and launched himself in a leap over the guards towards the enemy Ard.

  Tark was looking the other way, but some instinct warned him and he spun to catch Davor in the side with a ferocious punch. Davor gasped, the air forced out of his lungs, but he caught hold of his enemy and the two of them tumbled to the floor.

  "How dare you spit in my face like this," Tark hissed as he hammered another punch into Davor's ribs. "I offer you everything, and you throw it away."

  Davor didn't answer in words. Ignoring the punishing blows to his side, he snapped his head forward and felt the crunch of Tark's nose breaking. The howl of pain that followed was sweet music to his ears, and he twisted as they rolled, ending up astride Tark's chest. One punch onto that bloodied face made Tark shut up, and Davor raised his fist for another.

  Tark wasn't out of the fight. Arching his back, he sent Davor flying aside, and as Davor rolled to his feet, Tark shifted and pounced after him. In the nick of time, Davor managed to get his arm up and Tark's teeth sank into that rather than his throat. The weight of the wolf's impact drove him back and again they tumbled to the ground together, Tark tearing at his forearm as Davor tried to get control. Around them the battle raged on, and Davor could no longer tell who was winning.

  He managed to brace himself against the wall of a hut, getting some leverage again. Tark was strong and fast, but his rage blinded him, and he was too focused on chewing through Davor's arm to react quickly. Davor grabbed him with his free hand and stood, lifting the enemy Ard over his head. Feeling the wolf's teeth sink in, his bones cracking under the pressure, he slammed the wolf down against the hard ground and heard a satisfying crunch. Tark gasped and let go, leaving Davor to stagger back cradling a broken arm, blood flowing freely from the bite.

  The two warriors stared at each other as they picked themselves up. Tark growled, stalking forward carefully. Anger burned in his eyes, anger and pain, and Davor could see his enemy’s determination. If Tark won here, he’d not stop until everything and everyone Davor loved was dead and burned.

  Davor bared his teeth, testing himself. His right arm wouldn't work and his ribs burned, and his vision was dimming. Blood dripped from his wounds, weakening him by the second. But he could still fight, and he was done being intimidated by this man. Tark threatened Helen, and he wouldn't let that stand.

  "Come and get me," he said, lowering himself into a crouch and facing his foe head on. Tark charged, faster than Davor had expected, leaping up at his throat again. And this time, Davor had only one arm to defend himself with.

  Instead, he met the attack with a leap of his own, shifting as he went. The two wolves met in mid-air, snapping at each other as they twisted and turned. Tark's teeth dug into Davor's shoulder, but he paid that no mind. It was just another wound, another pain to ignore, and he'd had plenty of practice at that.

  His own jaws closed on Tark's neck and he bit down as hard as he could, tasting his enemy's blood as his teeth ripped through fur and hide. Tark's mouth spasmed open in a howl of agony and he started to twist desperately, trying to pull free. Davor had no intention of letting him go, doggedly biting down harder and paying no heed to the man's struggles.

  The cold was settling into his body as blood drained from his wounds, and every movement sent bolts of searing pain shooting out from his broken limb. It didn't matter, none of it mattered, not when he had Tark's throat between his teeth. The sounds of fighting around them faded, and all he could hear was his own heartbeat and Tark's frantic struggles. The Ard shifted back, trying to use his human form to gain an advantage, but it wasn’t enough. His hands scrabbled weakly at Davor, strength ebbing, unable to get enough leverage to pull himself free of Davor’s jaws.

  It's over, Davor thought. But before he could tear his enemy's throat out, hands grabbed at his neck and pulled him back with a desperate strength. Tumbling to his feet, he readied himself to pounce at his new foe only to see Gesha throwing herself between him and her father.

  "Stop," she cried, fear in her eyes. It was the first time he's seen an emotion on her that he trusted. "Please, don't kill him! He can't fight you, please Davor, spare him."

  Tark lay back, coughing weakly and pressing his hands to the wound on his throat. Blood welled through his fingers, and his blue skin was turning gray. Carefully Davor shifted back himself, swaying as he did so. Gesha looked up at him, crouching over her father protectively.

  "He has promised to kill me, my Clan, and my mate," Davor said. "He deserves death, and I will not risk the lives of those I love to spare him. Stand aside."

  A flash of sorrow mixed with fear on Gesha's face, quickly hidden. She didn't move, facing him with a determination he had to admire. "You owe me, Davor. You and Helen both. If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't be here. For that, if nothing else, please spare his life."

  He looked down at her, torn. He did owe her a debt, that much was true. "I can't let him come after us."

  "He won't," Gesha said quickly. "Father will swear on all our ancestors that he'll never bother you again, or your Clan or your mate. You've won, Davor."

  Looking down at Tark, Davor raised an eyebrow questioningly. Tark nodded, trying to say something that came out as meaningless noise past the wound on his throat. He means it now, but will he remember that once his wound heals?

  He felt Helen join him, her arm slipping around his waist wordlessly. A glance down at her told him that she hadn't been hurt in the fighting, and a wave of relief flooded through him. Davor sighed, leaning into Helen for support as his own wounds took their toll. She squeezed his waist, bracing herself on the spear she still carried, and he could feel her approval. His mate would back whatever decision he made, and he knew what the right thing to do was. Fear wasn't going to push him to break his code of honor.

  "Very well," he said. "I'll not kill a surrendering foe."

  The flash of anger in Tark's eyes was a reward in and of itself, but the Ard didn't — couldn't — argue. Around them the Fire Wolves watched their fallen leader, the last fight leaving them.

  "Take your father and your Clan, and go," Davor continued, addressing Gesha. "And if he, or any other Fire Wolf, breaks your word it won't just be the ancestors that you have to worry about. We won't be so merciful next time, and we have plenty of warriors now."

  "Thank you," Gesha said, bowing her head. "You'll never have to worry about us again, Davor. Go peacefully, both of you."

  Warily, Fire Wolf warriors came forward to lift their leader and carry him away. Gesha led them out of the village, the rest of her Clan following them silently, leaving the Silver Sea Clan and the liberated prisoners alone in the ruins. Looking around, Davor saw that everyone was looking at him and Helen, and tried to straighten up. The jolt of pain that sent through him made him wince, and Helen held on tighter.

  "Don't try to be a hero," she said, and then laughed. "I mean, more than you already are."

  "You're a fine one to talk," he groused. "You were meant to go home. That was the plan."

  "It was a stupid plan," she told him with a grin. "So I changed it. If that means you tell me off, well, I'm glad I'll be here to hear it."

  "Me too," Davor admitted, putting his good arm around her shoulders and squeezing. He felt weak, he could barely stand, and yet her touch made him want to run and jump and dance for joy. Later, he promised himself. For now, I have to recover or I'll be no use to her, or to anyone.

  19

  Helen

  Supporting her mate wasn't easy, and Helen tried not to worry as she helped him walk to a chair. Davor's arm hung limp, and though the blood wasn't flowing so quickly anymore he'd still lost a lot.

&
nbsp; "I see that you have done as you promised," a gruff older voice said, and she turned to see Ard Joron emerge from the crowd, looking at her. "You rescued my son, and all these others into the bargain."

  He scowled, shaking his head. "It isn't easy for an Ard to admit a mistake, but I thought this an impossible task. I'm glad to have been wrong."

  Helen blushed and bowed her head. "I wasn't sure it would work either," she said. "I couldn't leave my mate, though."

  "Son, you have a treasure here. I hope you'll be a worthy mate for her." The old warrior sighed, looking up at the sky. "More worthy than I have been as Ard, in any case."

  "Father, you came to my rescue," Davor protested, trying to stand. Helen held him down by his good arm, a little surprised that she could manage that. "You've won a great victory today."

  "No, son," Joron said. "Your mate did that, and so did you, but I just followed along. If there is one thing that I have learned from this, it's that my time as leader has passed. I'd have conceded that long ago if the Fire Wolves hadn't taken my heir from me — but now you're back, and I gladly step down in your favor."

  Davor looked up at his father, speechless. Helen could have laughed at the look on his face, but that would have been unkind. Instead, she hugged him tight.

  Joron didn't practice the same self-control she did, and he did laugh once. It was a rueful laugh, not unkind.

  "Don't worry, I will wait until you're healed before I abdicate. You deserve that much rest. But then it's my turn to take some time off, and to join the Elders while you handle the work of running our Clan."

  Helen nudged Davor, and finally he nodded. "I won't let you down, father."

  "I know that," Joron said with another laugh. "You've already done a better job than I could ever have expected."

  "There is one thing I need from you, first," Davor said, voice gathering strength. Joron looked confused at that but nodded for him to continue.

  "My mate arrived just in time to save me, when I thought all hope was lost," Davor said, and Helen felt herself flush at the praise. His hand squeezed hers, and he looked up with a smile before continuing. "I don't want to live another moment of my life apart from her, father. This place was to be my wedding site for a false and terrible wedding. As my Ard, you can make it a true wedding instead, and bind me and Helen together."

  Helen gasped, her heart leaping in her chest and her hands tightening on Davor's arm. His smile turned into a grin as he turned to her again. "If you agree, my love?"

  "Oh yes," she said, tears flowing freely. "Nothing would make me happier."

  There was a huge cheer from the crowd, reminding Helen that they had an audience. Her face turned red and she buried it in Davor's chest to try and hide, but that only increased the cheering.

  "I couldn't refuse that wish even if I wanted to," Joron said, chuckling. "Let it be so."

  With a gentle strength, he pulled Helen back from her mate so that she could look at him. His smile was kindly, though she could barely see it through the tears of joy. Joron stood over them, his hands outstretched above their heads as he addressed the crowd.

  "My Clansmen and my new friends," he said to the gathered crowd. "I call on you to witness the joining of my son Davor and this female, Helen of Earth. Brave and bold they have saved my Clan, may they lead it in safety and security.

  "As Ard of our Clan, I approve this match — and if there is anyone who objects, let them speak now and say why."

  The words were close to those she'd heard Tark say before she'd interrupted, but where those had made her feel sick and furious, this time she thought they'd stop her heart with joy. Davor's hand closed on hers, squeezing tight enough almost to hurt, and they looked deep into each other's eyes as the silence stretched.

  "Then it is done," Joron said once it was clear no one was going to object. "May you bring each other blessings of joy and happiness, and may your children be as strong and brave and beautiful as you."

  The great cheer that erupted around them made Helen want to hide again, but Davor didn't give her a chance. Pulling her to him, he kissed her passionately, driving all thought of anything but him out of her mind. By the time their kiss ended, she was short of breath and quivering, and she could feel Davor's heart pounding too.

  It's a shame we can't find a private spot here for a while, she thought, flustered and blushing. Just, I don't know, a few hours. Or days. A week, tops.

  It wasn't possible, though. Davor needed to get his arm treated, for one thing, and that meant getting him back to the Silver Sea Elders. The warriors were already organizing themselves for the trip back to the Worldwalker's Gate, taking what they could salvage from the village. The slaves were the ones who had built it, after all: it was only fair that they should get the benefit of their labor. Davor started to stand.

  "No you don't," Helen told him, stepping in front of him. "You're hurt, you don't have to help them carry anything."

  "I'm going to be their Ard," he said as though that explained everything. Helen shook her head, but before she could say more, another of the aliens put his hand on Davor's shoulder and pushed him back down onto his chair. She recognized Samsar, the man she'd seen being healed before their escape.

  Davor turned to glare at the newcomer, which didn't seem to bother Samsar in the slightest. "You have done enough, my friend. I won't have you worrying your mate by overdoing things. We'll make a stretcher and carry you home."

  "I have to lead my people," Davor said. "How will they respect me if I'm carried?"

  Helen and Samsar exchanged a look at that, and smiled.

  "You led them to a victory they could never have expected today," Samsar said. "And you led us prisoners to freedom. I promise you, they'll get over the fact that you got injured doing it. And besides, I owe you for looking after me when I was hurt. You wouldn't deny me the chance to repay your debt, would you?"

  For a moment Helen thought Davor was going to argue, but then he shook his head and sighed. "Fine. I'll go quietly, since it's what my mate wants."

  His grumpy words couldn't cover the happiness in his voice at the word 'mate' and it made Helen's heart swell with pride to hear it.

  The journey back to the Gate was slow, but she wasn't a captive or desperately rushing either to escape or to the rescue. Instead, she was traveling with a group who respected and valued her, and with her mate beside her. Though her feet hurt and the suns beat down on them, she couldn't have imagined a happier journey.

  When they arrived at last, Davor was well enough to walk through and insisted he wouldn't be carried. It took him some arguing to get Samsar and the others to let him, but in the end he won out, pointing out that he was soon to be their Ard. Being carried for two days was quite enough for him to put up with. Helen shook her head at his pride.

  "Are you sure you're up to it?" she asked him nervously, trying to speak quietly enough that the others wouldn't hear. "Your arm..."

  "Is well enough," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. As though to prove what he said, he swept her off her feet, only wincing a little at the stress on his injured limb. Helen squeaked in shock and delight as he strode into the Gate itself. "We recover quickly, my love, and I've had enough of being coddled for this injury."

  "Put me down," Helen protested as he carried her down the stairs. "I don't want to hurt you."

  Davor laughed at that. "You won't, I promise. I'll see the Elders for healing when we get home, but this will not wait."

  He took the stairs two at a time in his hurry to reach his home, and the speed made Helen cling to him. Reaching the Gate chamber itself, Davor didn't even pause, running through the center of it. Helen felt the strange twisting of space for just a moment as he guided them through, and she hung on tight. This time the boom of sound and flash of light barely bothered her, and it didn't slow him at all. Moments later, he carried her out onto the hills of his homeworld.

  Above them, the arch of the great ring cut across the sky, glittering in the sunset in a
beautiful vision she could never see on Earth. The sea shone as the sun dipped beneath it, and after the baking heat under twin suns, the chill breeze made her shiver against him. Davor didn't pause to take in the sights, heading down to the beach at a run.

  "Where are we going?" Helen asked him, trying to see. She knew this wasn't the way to his village.

  "There's something I want you to see before we go home," he said. "We won't go far, don't worry."

  The light dimmed around them as he carried her into a cove, the sound of waves against the shore the only noise she could hear. Davor lowered her to the sands at the water's edge, and she steadied herself against him as she looked around.

  It was beautiful, almost untouched. A stream ran into the sea, and in the fading light she could just about make out the brightly colored fish darting about under the water. The glittering arc of the ring above them cast a strange light on the waters, adding to the alien beauty of the scene.

  Turning back to Davor, she looked up at his smiling face and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "This place is beautiful. Is that what you wanted to show me?"

  His smile broadened and he stepped closer, reaching out to embrace her.

  "Something like that," he said. "Mostly I wanted to show you some place private for what I've got in mind."

  Helen's breath caught and she felt her cheeks heat. "What do you mean by that?" she asked, having a pretty good idea.

  He answered with a kiss, his lips enveloping hers passionately, his hands pulling her to him. Helen melted against his powerful body, aching for his touch. She's been walking by his side for days, but they hadn't had a moment alone together since the battle at the Fire Wolves village.

  Davor had clearly been thinking about that as much as she had.

  When the kiss broke, both of them were short of breath and Helen's pulse pounded. She bit her lip as he looked at her, his gaze hungry and focused. "Take off your clothes," he said in a tone that brooked no discussion.