The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1)

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The Myatheira Chronicles: The Vor'shai: From the Ashes (Volume 1) Page 34

by Melissa Collins


  Finally. They had reached something she understood. It felt strange to hold the practice sword in her hands, the wood lighter than any of the blades she’d utilized during the war. Even her own weapon, designed for her weaker arms, had weighed a significant amount more than this. Securing her grip on the sword, she held it up in front of her, taking on a traditional stance in preparation for a duel. The motion strained her aching muscles, but she didn’t care. This was what she had been looking forward to since their first session.

  Kael looked her over curiously, unable to hide his surprise at her ease with the weapon. “You have remarkably good technique for someone who has never wielded a blade before.”

  “Just because I was a novice with a bow does not mean I have never touched another form of weapon,” Leyna smiled, holding her stance firm. After all the time they’d spent together as of late, she felt comfortable enough around Kael to act in a more relaxed manner than she would around the others in the house. “I may be a bit out of practice, however. Try to go easy on me.”

  Taking up his own makeshift sword, Kael stepped up to Leyna in the sand, readying himself to strike. Leyna could tell he was hesitant. He wasn’t sure of the degree of knowledge which she held for the blade, making it hard for him to determine just how hard he could go. Hoping to ease his mind, Leyna lunged in for the first attack, catching him off-guard with the precision of her strike. With a simple maneuver, she twisted his weapon from his hand, sending it falling to the sand, the tip of her blade pressing into his chest.

  He looked a bit put-off at first, surprised by the accuracy of her technique. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before he quickly regained his composure.

  “Impressive,” Kael smirked. His hands lifted up defensively until Leyna relaxed her sword, lowering it back down to her side. Retrieving his from the ground, he repositioned himself in front of her, preparing for another match. “You certainly are more proficient than I expected. I will keep that in mind this time.”

  Confidently, she resumed her stance. She knew he wouldn’t allow her to succeed again so easily. His pride was at stake in losing to a mere slave. The first win, he would consider to have been merciful, and claim to have let it happen, to be generous. She would have to fight for a second victory.

  They circled around one another, each watching the other closely for any sign of movement to strike. An occasional feint sent them into a flurry of motion, only to return to their stance a moment later. He would not give her the opening she needed. He was too skilled for that. She would have to create a weak point if she had any hope at breaking through his guard.

  Shifting her weight to one side, she moved forward, aiming high with her weapon to draw his arms up away from his body. It was met by the dull thud of their wooden blades clashing. They traded blows back and forth in a swift rhythm, blocking and countering with ease. Through her battle-clouded thoughts she couldn’t help but admire the way he moved. The finesse of a nobleman. It was far different than the techniques she had grown accustomed to in the soldiers on the field. Every movement was precise and well-timed, keeping her on her toes for what he would do next.

  The strikes continued in perfect time, neither one managing to break through to dominate the duel. Leyna knew it would start to fall apart soon enough. She was out of practice. Endurance was not something a young woman needed and therefore Faustine preferred to keep her girls still. It was considered grotesque for a lady to break into such a sweat. The stickiness was unappealing to a man of good standing. She could already feel her lungs starting to burn from the exertion, aching for a breath of air.

  She thrust her hips backward to avoid Kael’s blade slicing at her midsection. A lucky strike, perhaps, but she was starting to make mistakes. Her tired mind was losing its focus. The well-aimed counters and blocks became a frantic attempt at keeping him at bay, no longer able to pay attention to continue offensively. Defense was always a trickier game to play. She was at his mercy for whatever he threw at her, forced to proceed on his timing and speed.

  Air. She needed air. The burning in her lungs and muscles was becoming a searing pain coursing through every inch of her. She was amazed that she had lasted the length of time she already had against him. If he won, it wouldn’t mean he was more skilled, only that he was able to outlast her stamina. With any luck, she would be able to improve upon that in time. For now, she just had to keep his blade away from her as long as possible.

  With a sudden burst of speed, Kael broke through her guard, easily disarming her sword from her hand. Unwilling to give in and accept defeat, she ducked under his outstretched arm, delivering a quick strike with her fingertips to a pressure point near his wrist. Rendered immobile for only a second, it was enough to release Kael’s grip on his weapon. The match was a draw. They had both been disarmed, leaving them with nothing but their hands if Kael sought to continue.

  In a fluid, sweeping motion, Kael lunged toward her legs, grabbing onto them tightly with his hands. She felt her body falling backward. There was nothing to be done to stop it. Pulling her legs out from under her, he took her down to the ground, controlling the impact of her fall with his own body.

  The racing of her heart in her chest grew almost unbearable. Part of it was caused by the adrenaline pumping through her while another was frighteningly aware of Kael’s sudden closeness. His soft green eyes stared deeply into her own from his position on top of her, his arms still holding her legs to either side of his body. Their chests heaved from the rush of the fight, the air from their breaths coming in short bursts as they struggled to regain their composure. He was so close to her. She could feel him, the weight of his body, pressing against her. Nothing else could be seen aside from his face – his lips hovering just above hers.

  A warm rush coursed through her veins at the feeling of his mouth against hers. She knew she should push him away, but her body wouldn’t listen to her mind. It felt right, somehow, despite the number of reasons why it was wrong for them to be as they were. More than just the thought of her being a slave and him a follower of her master. She didn’t understand any of the emotions which filled her thoughts… and her lack of understanding was the most frightening thing of all. It was as if her body was acting on its own without any heed to the rational thoughts going through her mind. Stop him. Push him away. Yet she didn’t. Instead, she felt her own arms wrapping around him, embracing him, pulling him in closer to her.

  “Find something of mine you like, Kael?”

  Her blood ran cold in her veins. Mikel. How long had he been standing there? How much had he seen?

  Kael slowly pulled his lips away from hers, his eyes staring down at her with concern. He knew the same as she that he had overstepped his bounds. What had they been thinking? Although she knew the answer to that. She hadn’t been thinking at all. Not any thoughts which would have prevented their actions. In the heat of the moment, they had allowed their bodies to act on their own whim. Only now, they would have to face the consequences.

  “Sir. I did not know you would be stopping by.” There was no hesitance in his voice. Inhaling a deep breath, Kael shifted back onto his knees, making sure Leyna’s dress was covering her legs before he rose to his feet. “I was teaching her the art of the sword – ”

  “And what type of sword exactly would that be? When I requested you to teach her, I was referring to actual weapons… not whatever it was you were attempting to thrust at her.”

  Mikel moved in closer to them, his pace slow and steady, his eyes locked firmly on Kael with a challenging gaze. Nervously, Leyna scrambled to her feet, adjusting her dress back into place. She knew she was blushing. The warmth of the blood rushing into her face and ears burned noticeably to her senses. Stupid. You may have just gotten us both killed over such a silly attraction. If she had to ask herself if it was worth it, she wasn’t sure she could give an answer so quickly.

  “It was just a kiss, sir. I swear it,” Kael stated, his voice trembling slightly as Mikel drew nearer
. “I had no intentions of going any further than that. Truthfully, I am not entirely sure why I even did… what I did.”

  The expression on Mikel’s face was unnerving. His eyes barely blinked while staring into Kael’s with a harsh authority. “Do not lie to me, Kael. I know exactly why you did it. As do you.” Turning away from Kael, he directed his piercing gaze upon Leyna, his features softening at the sight of her. “We are men, after all. And men share the same needs and desires. There is no need to deny that. Just look at her. She is fetching, is she not?”

  Kael hesitated in his response, the silence hanging uncomfortably in the air between them. His mouth opened to speak, but no words came out, the confidence in his demeanor quickly fading away. Prodding him for an answer, Mikel asked again, his tone louder and more insistent than the first. “Is she not?”

  “She is, sir. Yes,” Kael stammered. “I don’t think there is a man alive who would deny that.”

  “Except maybe a blind one.” Gruffly, Mikel lifted Leyna’s chin up with his hand, catching it between his thumb and index finger. It didn’t require any acting for her to appear frightened by his touch. She tried to flinch away from him, but he held her firm, the pressure of his grip squeezing painfully against her jaw. “You know… when Gislan presented me with this gift on my birthday, my first thought was ‘oh, how I wish I weren’t married.’ An unmarried slave owner is a lucky man. But me – I have a very loving, though very jealous wife.”

  With a thoughtful expression, Mikel wrapped his free hand around Leyna’s waist. Giving a sharp pull, he brought her in close to him, releasing his hold on her chin while continuing to speak. “Were that not the case, I’m sure you can imagine how much more I would be getting out of this present. My own enemy under my thumb. Doing my every bidding. Any fantasy, no matter how twisted, I could have her do. Anything to disgrace your pathetic people. I should have known to expect this of you, Kael. Your people are always trying to take from mine what they want.”

  “That was not my intention – ”

  “Yes it was, fool,” Mikel snapped, casting an icy glare in Kael’s direction before focusing his attention back on Leyna. “You’ve had your eye on her since she came here. I am not stupid. I could see the way you looked at her. The way you argued for her freedom. You wanted her for yourself… and as a slave, do you really think she would have told you no, if you had tried anything? She might as well be a whore. Slaves are trained to do exactly what their masters tell them to do. So don’t start thinking you can have her all to yourself just because I have a wife.”

  He was so close to her that Leyna could feel the warmth of his breath upon her face. He was disgusting. In appearance he was an attractive man, but his mannerisms made the elegant curves of his features worthless. He reeked of the Ven’shal taint. It reached her nostrils as if by some sixth sense sparked in her Vor’shai mind. “Tell me, Kael. Do you care about her?”

  “I beg your pardon, sir?”

  “It is a simple question, now answer me. Do you care about her?”

  Kael’s jaw clenched at the thought of his response. Leyna could tell he was thinking over his words carefully before speaking them. Whatever he chose to say would carry more weight in Mikel’s decision of what to do with them than Leyna was comfortable with. “I do, sir. I admit I know very little of her, but I carry a deep affection for her.”

  “Then let me make one thing very clear to you.” Holding her in tightly against him, Mikel let his other hand slide up the side of Leyna’s body to her chest. She turned her head away from him at his touch. She felt like she would be sick. The thought of being nothing more than an object to him, a prize to show off to his followers, made her cringe inside. After so many years becoming a lady, she had willingly placed herself into the arms of her enemy, allowing him to use her in ways a lady should never allow.

  She could feel his lips on the skin of her neck. Her body shuddered, stiffening with her desire to push him away. It was possible, if she was willing to risk everything for the sake of escaping his touch. There was no doubt in her mind that she was capable of overpowering him at least enough to break free. Beyond that, it was hard to say if she would be any match for the power of the magic he was rumored to wield. No. She couldn’t risk it. Thade tried to warn of the reality involved in her request for this mission and she had adamantly refused to listen to him. There was nothing else to be done now but accept what came her way for the sake of her people and their Queen.

  “I forgot what it was like to feel a woman trembling in my arms,” Mikel whispered, his breath gently brushing over Leyna’s ear with his words. “You are afraid of me, as you should be. Your life is in my hands to do with as I please. Do you understand me, slave?”

  Kael’s entire body tensed visibly at the sight of Mikel holding Leyna against him, unable to hear what was being said between them. Angrily, he took a step forward, stopping himself abruptly at the realization of what he was doing. “Sir…”

  “Do you wish to strike me, Kael? Does seeing me with her fill you with enough hatred to betray me after you swore your loyalty to me?”

  “I would not betray you, sir.” His voice was strained. It took all of his willpower to force the words out of his mouth, knowing he had no choice but to say it if he wanted Mikel to release her.

  The hand at Leyna’s waist slipped away, grabbing onto her slender wrist. Gradually increasing the pressure, Mikel lifted it up, watching her face twisting into a painful grimace. Opening her mouth in a silent scream, she tried to hold back her tears, not wanting to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry. “If you choose to pursue her, that is your own business. But my commands will come first and foremost. You may continue to train her to be my wife’s servant, but to make sure it is only the art of combat you teach her, I will have one of my men observe every training session. It would also do you good to remember that no matter how close you may become with her, she is still mine. I will do with her what I want, if I so choose, and you will remain loyal to me. If you fail to do so, then I will take pleasure in making sure you regret ever laying eyes on her.”

  “Yes, sir,” Kael replied quietly, lowering his head respectfully.

  “I feel the two of you have seen quite enough of each other for one day,” Mikel frowned. His grip remained firm on Leyna’s wrist, her eyes watering despite her best efforts to hold back the tears. It felt as if the bones would shatter if he pressed any tighter, his arm moving to drag her behind him toward the house. “You are relieved of your duties for the day and will be returned to your shackles in the cellar,” he said through gritted teeth, pulling her harshly. “Maybe that will give you the time you need to think about your predicament.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The cellar was surprisingly more accommodating than before, though it helped knowing she would be allowed to roam the house freely again when the sun rose. It was a punishment for her to have to spend her nights there, but who was really the one being punished? All things considered, she believed it was intended as a reminder to Kael exactly where he stood with Mikel. A display of superiority and power. He had the control to take her away from him. What bothered her were the reasons why Mikel might have felt the need to exercise his authority.

  He had been angry at the sight of Kael with her. His tone had remained calm, his actions well-controlled and calculated, but it was obvious that he was furious at Kael’s behavior. Mikel had struck back at him in every non-violent way which would wound him more deeply than anything physical. Putting his hands on her, locking her away in the cellar that Kael worked so hard at getting her free of. This punishment was a display for Kael’s sake, not hers.

  Another of Mikel’s men had been charged with keeping a close watch on her, monitoring her interaction with Kael and making sure they didn’t see each other outside of their practice in the courtyard. They called him Yasar. She was never out of his sight, his muscular Namiren frame hulking even now in one of the dark corners of the cellar hall. His height alone was intimi
dating, standing at least a foot taller than Leyna. Likely more. Even Kael had to look up to meet his eyes when they spoke.

  It was strange to her, constantly being in the company of a man against whose entire race she’d fought years before, killing their armies, leaving them broken and defeated. Now he guarded the keys to the cell which confined her, controlling the tightness of her shackles, and when she would be allowed any freedom. To see him brought back waves of memories to her tortured mind. Nightmares of her younger days haunting her in her sleep.

  Lying on her back in the cell, she could feel the cold metal of the shackles weighing heavily across her abdomen where she rested her hands. By her count, it had been well over a month since the first day of her training with Kael. Nothing had been said in regards to the challenge Oksuva spoke of. She was beginning to wonder if they had forgotten about her.

  The creak of her cell door opening jarred her from her thoughts, her body sitting up straight to see who was coming. She expected to see Yasar’s long, feathered, brown hair and yellow eyes staring back at her from the hall. Instead, she gasped in surprise to find herself face to face with Mikel’s steady gaze, his jaw clenched tightly as he looked down at her. “You look out of place in this wretched room. If I thought you could behave, I would let you return to your old quarters.”

  After their last meeting, she wasn’t comfortable with the thought of being alone with Mikel, and especially not in an area of the house where they were so cut off from everything. Yasar could still be seen leaning against the cell across from hers. His eyes seemed to almost look through her, focusing on the wall behind. He wouldn’t make any move to stop Mikel if he thought to go on another power trip with her. Mikel’s men had no scruples. Yasar would more prefer to stand by and watch than step in to her aid.

  Slowly she pulled herself to her feet. The movement was more strained due to the shackles binding her wrists, the chain clattering noisily through the small stone-walled area. There was nothing to say in response to Mikel’s comments. Fighting with him would be worthless, leading only to more trouble than she was already in. She stared back at him silently, hoping he would bypass the small-talk, moving on to the business which had brought him to her cell.

 

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