Around them bodies shifted. Varian inhaled deeply, testing the scents in the air. A clear divide existed. He hid a grimace.
“These rebels broke human law,” he continued. “They have a right to be judged by their own people.”
Rystin’s shoulders bunched with tension. “You don’t think we have a right to judge them?”
“Of course I do. Nothing would satisfy my heart more than ending the lives of those warriors one by one.”
Varian glanced over Rystin’s shoulder toward the house where the rebels resided. Beyond the closed door, the Light Blades awaited their fate. Taking a blade to their throats would satisfy the anger inside him.
Their lives for the ones they’d taken.
Protect and avenge.
Na’Chi justice.
Several months ago, he’d have thought nothing of that sort of behavior, from any of them. Their survival had demanded such a cold, ruthless approach. But circumstances had changed. There was more at stake now—an infant alliance that deserved a chance to succeed.
At the edge of his vision, Varian caught Arek shifting his weight onto the balls of his feet. The Second hooked his fingers in his belt, close to his blade. His team also shuffled uneasily beside him.
Varian sighed softly at the swift loss of trust between their peoples.
“But we no longer live in Na’Reish territory.” He resorted to a more persuasive tone. “If we’re to make new lives here living with the humans, we’re going to need to change some of our ways.”
“You should hear yourself.” Rystin shook his head. “Human law. Human justice. Human ways.” His bark of laughter was bitter. “We’re Na’Chi. I say we remain true to our ways. If the humans can’t accept us for who we are, then we’re better off without them as our allies.”
Lisella’s gasp was the only sound in the tense silence that followed Rystin’s announcement. Varian ground his teeth together at the scout’s stubborn arrogance.
Patience gone, he pinned Rystin with his stare. “So, this is your justification for breaking my order?” he asked, words deceptively soft. “Is this a challenge for leadership, then? Be clear on this, Rystin. You know the possible consequences of issuing one.”
Chapter 9
A SHIVER skittered up Kymora’s back. Few humans would have recognized the dangerous edge in Varian’s voice, but she did. Apparently so did her guide, Zaune. Where her hand lay on his forearm, his muscles bulged and pulled tight, like he was forming a fist. What about the challenge had the young scout so concerned?
“Why is Rystin challenging Varian?” Kymora asked, keeping her voice low.
“Rystin’s a fool!” Zaune’s voice shook with equal amounts of anger and apprehension. “Now’s not the time for this!”
She squeezed his arm. “What’s going on Zaune?”
“Rystin is challenging Varian for the leadership of the Na’Chi.” His breath hissed out from between his teeth. “When we lived in Na’Reish territory, decisions had to be made and followed without question. Any hesitation and we risked discovery and death.”
She blinked, astonished. “A dictatorship?”
“It’s how we’ve stayed alive and safe for so long.”
“I meant no criticism; it’s just that I’ve heard Varian ask for opinions and ideas, many times, before making a decision.”
“When he can, he does that. It’s what makes him such a good leader, but he won’t hesitate to enforce his decisions. Any one of us can issue a challenge for leadership, but we have to be prepared to fight him for it. In the past, Rystin has come close but always backed down.” He placed a hand over hers and his tone gentled. “If he confirms his challenge, they’ll fight. Only one of them will survive.”
“This is a fight to the death?”
“Yes.”
“Mother of Mercy!” Her heart began to pound. “No one should have to die. Take me over to them, Zaune.”
“You can’t interfere.”
“This can be settled by talking not fighting!”
“What do you think Varian’s been trying to do in the last few minutes?” Zaune’s harsh question had her biting her lip. “Rystin doesn’t want to listen.”
But a fight to the death? Lady of Light! The Light Blades spoke highly of the Na’Chi’s fierce skills in training. Both warriors were evenly matched. Her heart contracted. She couldn’t lose Varian. The selfish thought made her cheeks burn with shame, but she couldn’t take it back.
“The Na’Chi need Varian and Rystin,” she whispered. Her voice trailed off as her throat closed over. She swallowed hard. “Mother of Mercy, help us.”
“This is our way, Temple Elect.” The young scout’s voice was firm. “Would you weaken Varian’s position by interfering? Because that’s what will happen if you do. Rystin will gain support. You heard him. He believes we’ve made a mistake in coming here. If he wins the challenge, he’ll take us back to Na’Reish territory.”
“That’s suicide!”
Zaune grunted in agreement. “Then let Varian do what he has to.”
Blood drained from her face. “Are the children here?” she asked. “After all they’ve been through, they don’t need to see this.”
“Shella and Rahni took them away a few moments ago.”
Lady’s Breath, she felt sick. Kymora swallowed against the nausea rolling in her stomach. How could she stand by and listen to the two men fight to the death?
VARIAN locked his gaze on Rystin, waiting for the scout to decide the next move. His tense stance and the grip on the hilt of his blade declared his defiance. His expression was set, harder than he’d ever seen it before, the lines bracketing his mouth etched and determined.
“The Na’Chi need a stronger leader. With these people as witnesses, I challenge you.” Rystin’s statement was loud and clear.
In the air between them, the spicy odor of righteous anger strengthened. Varian took a slow deep breath, hoping to detect any hint of hesitancy or wavering resolution, determined to use any advantage to get the warrior to back down.
While he and Rystin had never really seen eye to eye on various issues, a shared love for their people had always united them. Of all the scouts, he was the one who’d tested him the most, during training and at meetings, but that tenacity and drive was what made him such an excellent warrior.
Varian inhaled again. Rystin’s scent hadn’t altered one iota. The Na’Chi needed every scout they had, especially with the alliance with the humans still in its infancy. But Rystin already believed his leadership was weak; arguing further would reinforce that impression with everyone else. He just wished the timing could have been different.
“So be it.” His sharp nod served two purposes: to accept Rystin’s decision and to shake the memories of growing up with someone he viewed as family. He had to if he wanted any chance of winning this fight. “Challenge accepted.”
The crowd murmured and shifted back, giving them plenty of room. From the corner of his eye, Lisella moved toward Arek and the other Light Blades, and in a terse whisper, explained what was about to happen.
Varian didn’t dare look Kymora’s way. Couldn’t. He’d have preferred any other outcome rather than her observing this fight. If he survived, she’d discover firsthand what he was, what his past had made him into.
For the fraction of a heartbeat he considered letting Rystin prevail.
“Varian, it’s too dangerous to stay here. The Na’Chi need to leave Na’Reish territory. But they need a leader, one strong enough to guide them away from here. You’re the eldest, they’ll follow you.”
Words from the woman he loved like a mother. Imparted on the day the Na’Reish warrior had followed her to their camp and he’d saved them all from him. From the moment she’d found him scavenging for food on a waste pile outside Savyr’s fortress, Hesia had treated him like her own child, helping him learn the skills he needed to survive outside the fortress, teaching him the meaning of words like love, tolerance, responsibility, duty, and loyalty
, all in preparation for the day he took on the mantle of leadership. Her dream of helping the Na’Chi survive became his.
“The time has come for the Na’Chi to leave, Varian.” He’d never heard Hesia sound so excited yet look so sad. “There’s a Light Blade warrior within Savyr’s dungeon. Once I take Annika to see him, we’re going to help him escape. The Na’Chi must be ready to move and follow them.”
Varian scanned the faces of those she’d charged him with protecting so many years ago. They’d trusted her and now they trusted him. Letting Rystin defeat him in the challenge would damn them all, and that was something his conscience could never abide.
Whatever the result, the fight would resolve one problem. At least he wouldn’t have to worry about Kymora being attracted to or wanting any sort of relationship with him. It might even end their friendship.
He pushed away the ache writhing in his gut. If terminating his friendship with Kymora proved the price of this challenge, then he’d pay it to see his people safe. They had to come first.
“No weapons.” Varian pulled his blade from its sheath and threw it to the edge of the circle, watching to make sure Rystin complied before stripping his shirt from his body. “Hand to hand only.”
He’d barely flung it aside when Rystin launched himself across the distance separating them. The scout’s arms closed around his waist. Varian went with the momentum, falling backward. His back slammed into the ground. Dirt and debris dug into him as Rystin swung his fist.
Varian blocked the first blow but others made it through. Two to his chest, a couple to his ribs, even one to his jaw. All bruising but his adrenaline-charged system eliminated the pain. For now.
He wound a leg around Rystin’s waist, twisted, and threw the younger man onto his back. More blows were exchanged as he tried to pin him. A fist hit close to Varian’s kidney. A spike of agony lanced through his lower back. He grunted and jerked back. Releasing Rystin, he rolled to his feet.
The scout did the same, mirroring his wide-legged stance, circling with him. “You’re holding back, Varian. I wonder why?” His lips twisted, more of a sneer than a smile. “We’re not in training now.”
No, they weren’t.
Rystin’s eyes turned the color of congealed blood, the only warning given before he charged. Opening his arms wide, Varian barely braced himself in time. Skin met skin in a sharp slap. Fueled by his full Na’Chi strength, Rystin locked his arms in the small of his back and squeezed.
“You’re going to have to let go if you want to defeat me.” Rystin’s growled taunt was close to his ear, so low and distorted it was barely human. “But if you do, the humans will see what we’re really capable of, won’t they?”
A leg wrapped around his and swept his feet out from under him. With no way to roll or lessen the impact of the fall, Varian took the full force of it. His ribs flared in agony and he fought to breathe.
“Not allowing your Na’Reish half to rise is a weakness!”
Half a dozen bone-cracking punches pummeled his face. The iron scent of blood filled Varian’s nostrils; the metallic taste of it coated his tongue.
“When I kill you, our people will have a leader capable of making the right decisions.”
Another strike caught Varian’s jaw. His vision blurred. Rystin was right. He was going to have to let his Na’Reish half consume him. Everything inside him railed at the idea, but what other choice did he have? They were too equally matched.
Varian heaved, all his frustration, all his anger, all his fear for what he had to do pouring through him as his body arched. Reaching deep, he tapped the dark half of his soul, the part of him he wished didn’t exist, and gave it permission to rise.
Like a predator sensing freedom, it surged, and the darkness that came with it erupted into his veins, charging him with more adrenaline, greater strength, and cold intent.
Rystin’s gaze widened as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing a moment before his hold loosened. With a throat-shredding roar, Varian grasped handfuls of Rystin’s shirt and threw his whole weight to one side, forcing the warrior off balance, sending them both into a dizzying roll across the ground in a bid for dominance.
At the edge of his vision, he was aware of people scrambling to get out of their way. Unwilling to hurt a bystander, he flung himself clear. Rystin scrambled as quickly to his feet as he did, and they resumed grappling with one another.
A fast block allowed him to catch Rystin’s arms. The hot scent of sweat and faltering resolve filled his nostrils. The predator inside him savored the weakness. Between one blink and the next, redness tinged his vision. After so many years, he knew Rystin’s every move, every skill, every strength and flaw.
His heart pounded in his chest. Hauling Rystin around, he slid an arm around the scout’s neck. Muscles bunching, bulging, he applied pressure to his throat, stopping only when Rystin’s breath wheezed in through his mouth.
“No!” Rystin’s choked cry was furious. Adrenaline spiked with the hoarse sound.
Varian grunted as Rystin’s fingernails raked deep bloody furrows along his arm. Ignoring the stinging pain, he jabbed the back of Rystin’s thigh hard with his and took the warrior to his knees. Rystin grunted, his labored gasps rapid, frantic. He swung an elbow once, twice into his ribs. The force behind the blows was weaker.
The sour odor of fear filled Varian’s lungs, stroked his senses in a sinister caress. He leaned back farther, felt every muscle in Rystin’s body strain and stretch, heard the hitch in his breathing as the extra pressure tormented already overwhelmed nerves.
How easy would it be to break Rystin’s neck now and listen to the satisfying crunch of bone shattering? His blood rushed hard and hot through his veins. The redness in his vision brightened.
Varian blinked, a small part of him realizing just how close the beast within was to taking Rystin’s life. He struggled against the urge, searching his thoughts for a memory, one to remind him Rystin was a friend not prey. He found one, of a time when he’d taught the younger man how to track, but it was like wading through sucking mud to access it.
He wasn’t an animal.
Varian pressed his mouth close to Rystin’s ear. “Withdraw your challenge,” he hissed. “I’ll spare your life.”
Rystin issued a strangled denial, the fiery spiciness of his anger heavy in Varian’s nostrils. Blood pounded harder in his ears, and he viewed everything through a veil of red.
He challenged you! He knew the consequences! Kill him and be done with it!
Varian’s muscles ached as he controlled the deadly impulse.
“The Na’Chi need you,” he growled. Sweat dripped from his brow into his eyes. He ignored the sting. “They need us both!”
“End it now…. Execute me….” Rystin sucked in a rasping breath. “Or give up… the leadership!”
His fingers pried at Varian’s forearm, continuing his bid for freedom. Stubborn fool! Couldn’t he see past his fear? The futility of returning to live in Na’Reish territory?
Bitterness rising in his throat, Varian shifted his weight onto his back leg and grasped Rystin’s head. Several warriors’ braids caught among his fingers. The beaded ends bit into the palm of his hand. He’d threaded many of them into Rystin’s hair himself. All tokens of events in his life as a scout.
Protector of their people.
“You’re my brother, Rystin.” The tightness in his throat distorted his voice so much the words were barely more than hoarse syllables. “You always will be.”
He jerked the scout’s head at an angle.
Hard.
Neck bones snapped.
Loud.
Even as part of him howled in exultation, each sharp crack stabbed like a knife into his body. Rystin twitched once, and then collapsed in his arms, ominously lax.
The sound of shuddering breaths rasped in Varian’s ears. Harsh, rough, broken.
His.
He closed his eyes, swamped by the sickening high of victory as it rushed t
hrough him. The iron tang of blood coated his tongue. The warm weight of Rystin in his arms made him shudder.
He’d killed his brother.
Grief clawed at his heart and sucked the air from his lungs.
Rystin knew the consequences!
Ignoring the voice coming from the darkest corner of his mind, Varian replayed his every word and action, searching for something he could have done differently.
Rystin had deserved to die at the point of an enemy’s blade, his duty as a protector justified. Honored.
Not like this.
“Varian?” Lisella’s voice was soft, full of empathy, accompanied by a gentle hand on his bare shoulder.
He shrugged her off, her compassion grating on nerves too raw to cope. He opened his eyes, relieved to see the world in color again instead of hues of red.
“Varian, there was nothing else you could do.” She came around in front of him; her violet gaze met his. Tears glistened on her lashes. She didn’t try to touch him again. “Rystin gave you no choice.”
He flinched. “Don’t…” He barely recognized the gravelly voice as his own. “Rystin is dead.” He swallowed hard, leashing his anger before sweeping the crowd with his gaze. “Does anyone else wish to challenge me?”
The Na’Chi who’d stood with Rystin averted their gazes. He disregarded the shocked and horrified expressions of the humans, unable to deal with the impression on them just yet. He’d deal with the consequences when he had better control of himself.
No one moved or spoke up.
“Then I remain leader. The alliance with the humans stands.” Releasing one arm from around Rystin’s body, he stabbed a finger in the direction of Arek. “The Light Blades protect the rebels within that house as they await judgment by the Chosen and his Blade Council.” No emotion except cold intent carried in his voice. “My word is law. Break it and I will kill you.”
Around the circle, Na’Chi heads bowed in assent, acknowledging his declaration.
“Rystin needs to be buried,” Lisella said, quietly.
Alliance Forged Page 9
