Dragonlands, Books 1 - 3: Hidden, Hunted, and Retribution

by Megg Jensen

  “Go, chouchou!” The man’s eyes were wild, light danced in them.

  A hand flew to her mouth in horror. “Leo. Gods, no. Leo!” She reached a hand out, then did the unthinkable. She ran back into the fray.

  The two men hacked and slashed at Leo. She thrust her sword into the storm of metal. Her block saved a sword from piercing Leo’s heart.

  “Go!” He yelled again.

  “No!” She begged, forgetting to disguise her voice.

  The two men looked at her, their eyes wide. “A girl?” one of them asked.

  “Great,” Leo said, rolling his eyes while blocking a half-hearted thrust from the shocked men. “Now we have to kill them both. Which one do you want?”

  Tressa’s eyes narrowed. She took a step back, then attacked. She slashed at the surprised soldier’s wrists first, one at a time, leaving gashes in her sword’s wake. Then to the neck, shoulders, and stomach. Her sword left his innards followed by sucking sound.

  The lion’s body crumpled to the ground, bloody intestines draped on his body.

  A horn sounded, echoing through the arena. “Stop!”

  She turned her attention back to Leo. He withdrew the sword from the other man’s throat. They’d killed both, but it was one too many. Now there were only eleven left. They’d violated the rules of the tournament.

  “You! Kill him!” The order came from the dais at the head of the arena. Stacia stood strong, one long black fingernail pointed at Tressa.

  “He’s dead.” Leo yelled it for her, saving Tressa from revealing herself again. “I had to,” he whispered to Tressa out the side of his mouth, “or he would have revealed your secret.”

  “No.” Stacia laughed, a sound more unpleasant than the blood spurting from the lion’s throat on the ground in front of them. “Him.” Her fingernail moved to Leo. “You, boy, kill him.”

  Tressa gaped at her. Kill Leo?

  “The men of the Black Guard do not kill each other. He has broken the law. The man next to you is a traitor. Run him through.”

  Leo raised his sword to Tressa. “You have to do it. If you don’t, she’ll order you killed too.”

  “I can’t.” Tressa fought to stay steady. She’d only just made her first kill without another thought. She didn’t feel any pride, just shame. That man hadn’t hurt Connor. He’d only been an obstacle in her way to Stacia. Somewhere he might have a wife and children. People who loved him.

  She couldn’t even contemplate killing Leo to avenge Connor.

  Tressa dropped her sword on the ground at Leo’s feet. She shook her head. With her arms crossed across her chest, she stood in defiance of Stacia’s order.

  Murmurs rose from the crowds that were quickly gathering. Word must have spread that the end was near. Despite the heat of the afternoon, a thin veil of sweat dripped over Tressa’s face.

  “I won’t fight an unarmed solider,” Leo yelled to Stacia. “It’s dishonorable.”

  “It was dishonorable when you struck down a solider after the twelve had been reached.” Stacia yelled. “You will die and you will die by his hand.” She pointed again at Tressa.

  “She’ll have us both killed,” Leo said. “You have to save yourself.”

  “No.” Tressa spoke through gritted teeth. “I won’t.”

  Leo lunged at her and Tressa jumped to the side.

  “Only one of you will join my guard. Decide it between the two of you. If the boy is too much of a coward to kill the man, then I’ll take the man. You have until the sun hits the top of the building behind me. If one of you isn’t dead by then, I’ll have both of you run through.”

  “Pick up your sword.” Leo swung at Tressa, missing her by only a hair’s breadth. He missed on purpose. They both knew it.

  Tressa circled him, her hands in the air. “No. Find another way for us to get out of this. You’re clever like that.”

  “There isn’t another way. This is your path, Tressa. Time to walk it.”

  “No.”

  He slashed at her again, this time leaving a bloody line on her face. Her hand covered the wound. It was all part of the game. He’d done this to her before. Pushed her. Challenged her.

  That day she failed.

  Today she would fail as well.

  She wouldn’t kill him.

  Leo slipped his toes under the hilt of Tressa’s sword and flipped it into the air. Tressa refused to reach out for it. But Leo didn’t let it hit dirt again. He caught it in his left hand.

  He sprang forward. Leo stood close to her now. So close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

  “Fight or we both die. I won’t kill you.”

  “Nor I you.”

  “We cannot defeat all of them at once. This is the end of the show, Tressa.” Leo dropped his sword, only holding hers in his left hand. His right disappeared into his doublet.

  Leo turned his back to the dais. The crowd roared with bloodlust, urging them to kill each other. There wasn’t a favorite. They didn’t care. All that mattered was completing the Black Guard.

  Tressa pushed against him, but Leo was too strong. He always was. No matter what maneuver he taught her, she’d never been able to defeat him.

  Leo always got exactly what he wanted.

  Warmth spread over Tressa’s hands. She looked down. Blood trailed down the shaft of a dagger, the hilt resting against her stomach. She followed it to its tip, then gasped.

  Leo smiled, blood pooling at the corners of his lips.

  “You were my greatest student. Don’t take any of this for granted. Avenge me.”

  Leo staggered backward, the dagger protruding from his stomach.

  Tressa stood, shaking so hard and so fast no one could see the extent of her shock. Her sword lay on the ground at her feet.

  Another of Stacia’s wicked laughs poured over the arena. The final horn sounded again. “We have only ten, but ten of the most brave and cunning men to ever compete! Congratulations to the new members of the Black Guard!”

  Riotous applause rippled through the crowd. Mugs of beer clanged against one another. Swords rattled. Men cheered. Women catcalled, offering to cap their day off with a romp.

  Tressa stood alone in the center. Leo at her feet. She wanted nothing more than to fall to him. Cradle him in her arms.

  But she could not. The other men left standing surrounded her, leading her away. Taking her to the next step of her journey. One she truly now walked alone.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Naked.

  Cold.

  Hot.

  Fever.

  Endless shivering.

  Connor’s eyes opened. Not much. Only a slit. Enough to take in the dank murkiness of his cell. Like before, he heard water drip. Plink. Plink. Plink. An endless maddening sound.

  No one visited him.

  Not since the night, or day, he wasn’t sure, when he awakened.

  When she’d looked into his eyes and convinced him she loved him.

  After she’d taken him, the grate fell and he was trapped in this prison. At first he’d railed against the metal rods. Screamed until his throat grew raw and his voice left him. Hunger pierced his belly, like a knife twisting inside him.

  Every morning he woke refreshed. As if he’d been healed in his sleep. His muscles were more defined. His appetite sated. His throat moist.

  The cycle repeated itself. Though he never knew for sure what was morning and what was night. He slept when tired. He fought when rested. There was nothing else to be done until she came back.

  “How are you, my pet?” She sauntered into view outside his prison.

  “Let me out.” If he demanded it, surely she would let him go.

  Her laughter, echoing in the vast cave, told him he wouldn’t get what he wished.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I needed a new mate. The others were less than worthy. I killed them.” She reached in between the bars, a black fingernail tracing the contour of his cheek. “You were happy to oblige before, r
emember?”

  He remembered too well. It haunted him in his dreams. Lust and anger locked in a battle. She had won and he hated himself for enjoying it.

  “I have something for you, my love.” She set a bag on the ground. “It’s something we made together.”

  Curious, he waited while she pulled something hard and round from the bag.

  “What is it?” he asked, overcome with wonder. It shimmered in the faint light of the cave. A hard and knotty gray shell covered with blue specks. Connor reached through the bars to touch it.

  Heat traveled from his fingers up his arm.

  “I brought it here to you because I love you. Because I knew it would keep you warm.” She glanced at his naked body and his obvious arousal. “Do you miss me?”

  “Every day. Let me out. Please.” He did miss her. He hated her. He wanted her. More than anything, he was desperate to recall a memory from before he’d woken up in the cave. Down there, trapped and alone, his memory was nothing more than an empty void.

  She chuckled. “I can’t do that. But if you want me, I think that can be arranged.”

  The bars dissipated, metal vanishing into mist. The woman stepped into his waiting arms, covering his lips with hers and teasing her tongue into his mouth. Something deep within told him to push her away, but her hands convinced him otherwise.

  They made love again and again until he fell asleep.

  When he awoke, the bars were reinstated.

  The strange object sat not far away. He lay next to it, feeling the heat emanating from inside. She was right. It would provide him warmth and comfort.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Tressa grew used to poor hygiene. The men of the Black Guard bathed together only once a week. She avoided it, claiming her religion prevented her from baring her body in front of the other men. Leo coached her ahead of time on this, knowing it would be an issue.

  Leo.

  Another innocent lost. So much death. So much grief. Thinking of him always threatened to bring tears to her eyes. But she couldn’t allow herself to cry in front of the other men. Not even for a moment. She was one of the elite now.

  The only other one who remained behind from the weekly soak was the boy. The one they protected during the battle. He won a spot without drawing blood. Not his, nor another’s.

  The boy slept all the time. At first Tressa thought he was only avoiding her. That was until his unbearable snoring began. She tossed a pillow over her head, but it didn’t muffle the grinding noise. Instead of listening to him, she ventured outside.

  Tressa followed the shouts of the men bathing in the pond. Leo had told her to learn as much as she could about each of them. Where they came from. Where their loyalties lie. Even within the ten, there would be factions. If Tressa ever needed help or escape, it wouldn’t hurt for her to find out which was most sympathetic.

  If any.

  Leo cautioned her not to trust any of their words and very little of what she saw. Men didn’t fight to protect Stacia because they loved her. They did it to protect their families, gain favor, or advance their own secret motives. Her mother had commanded respect and loyalty. Stacia’s reign inspired treachery.

  She encouraged it, allowing the Black Guard to exact revenge on people who wronged their families. Being a member gave them power to rule the villages they came from. Stacia kept them well fed, strong, and an unending stream of women sashayed through their apartments, willing to fulfill their every sexual desire. In return, the Black Guard gave her their loyalty.

  A loyalty that hadn’t ever been tested. No one dared defy her. Yet Leo wasn’t so sure it was due to fear or lack of interest. Stacia’s political power was tempered. No one invaded. The Drowned Country sat on the coast. Hutton’s Bridge blocked them from the road to the north. Few diplomats from the other realms ever traversed the forest asking for an audience with her.

  No, Leo had told her, Stacia’s rule was solid, but unchallenged. She had no allies beyond the fog. While Tressa had viewed her village’s plight as a personal struggle, Leo taught her that it affected the entire land of the dragonlords. Hutton’s Bridge cut off the Drowned Country, leaving them to fend for themselves.

  A stray boat from The Sands would meander into port once in a while. Trade wasn’t heavy anymore, though. They survived off of their own wits.

  Before Hutton’s Bridge was enveloped in fog, The Drowned Country had been an influential power. Now they were isolated. Alone. Stacia’s army was only needed to guard her against her own people. The thought of invasion from another dragonlord was near impossible.

  It was the best time to strike Stacia down. None of the other dragonlords would care and by the time they found out, it would be too late anyway. Her people didn’t love her. The Black Guard kept up appearances for their own ambitions.

  All Tressa had to do was get close to Stacia, kill her, and slip away, letting the rest of them work it out. Connor would be avenged. Now Leo too. Tressa could go home and figure out how to help her people. Spend a quiet life with Bastian. Get to know her father better.

  One of the men’s voices startled Tressa back to reality. She slipped behind a tall bush, careful to conceal herself. If they caught her spying on them, she doubted the reception would be pleasant.

  The man of unknown origin, named Jarrett, stood stark naked on the path. Tressa peered at him through the thick pines, flashes of his dark skin visible. She held her breath.

  He wiped a wool towel up and down the length of his body, then he wrapped it around his midsection. She eyed him, pushing a little farther into the bush to get closer.

  Yes, he would be a formidable opponent. She didn’t want to get in a fight with him. One-on-one there was no way she would win. Her strengths lie in misdirection and a well-placed sword tip at the right moment. He was one of the brighter soldiers in the group. She couldn’t take him in a fight.

  Half the battle was knowing who to attack and who to leave alone. But she needed allies too.

  “Jarrett! Get back here. Your arse is still dirty and the whores don’t like that on a man of the Black Guard.”

  Jarrett rolled his eyes. “I’ll take my chances,” he shouted back to them.

  The sound of splashing water dominated the otherwise quiet scene. The men were really enjoying themselves out there. To Tressa, it seemed as if they were only a group of boys, not men who’d killed and maimed hundreds for a spot in an elite guard. Jarrett was different. Quieter.

  He let the wool slip to the ground and Tressa caught a glimpse of his entire naked body between two branches of the pine. At first she felt guilty, then brushed it aside. Bastian had been with Vinya for years. He’d not only seen her naked, but had sex with her. Voluntarily. It wasn’t as if he’d refused her while waiting for an outside chance to be with Tressa again.

  She let the warm feeling pass through her body. Not fighting it. Happy to know she could be attracted to a man other than Bastian. For so long she’d wondered if there was something wrong with her. She was relieved to know it was only the limited choice in her small village, not a lack of interest in sex.

  She reminded herself she’d committed to Bastian. And he to her.

  Now was the worst time for her feel those stirrings, especially for a man she couldn’t yet trust. He was also the main guardian of the boy who slept, rattling the foundation with his snoring.

  Tressa needed an ally, but she also needed to tread carefully, and not let a perfectly shaped and very clean arse get in her way.

  Later that night, Tressa snuggled under the covers. A cool breeze drifted in, dancing over her exposed toes. She pulled her knees up higher. Her toes snuggled into the bottom of the blanket, ready for a night of uninterrupted sleep.

  She needed it. Days of training with the other men had left her exhausted. Moving took more effort than breathing. Stillness was her only respite.

  Snores echoed through the room. It was the boy. Henry. She’d learned his name when she stepped up to spar with him, only to be pu
shed to the side by Jarrett. He was always at Henry’s side.

  At first she wondered if they were brothers, but if they were, they did not share two parents. While Jarrett was dark skinned with ebony hair and goatee to match, Henry looked like a newly bloomed daisy on a bright spring morning. He was about as sturdy too. The boy swayed away from half-hearted thrusts, barely able to lift his own sword.

  He reminded Tressa of herself on her first day of training. She could dispose of him in seconds if she chose. He was a waste. A disgrace to the Black Guard.

  She’d sacrificed everything to be there. Left her lover. Lost her mentor. All she’d given and yet this boy entered the fold unscathed.

  Her mind swam in a sea of thoughts, just on the edge of sleep. It was her favorite moment of the day. When her thoughts swirled and she could feel her body twirling as her muscles relaxed and she slowly drifted into unconsciousness.

  Or she would have if something hadn’t touched her arm. “Are you awake?” the voice whispered.

  Tressa didn’t move. Shift in the wrong direction and he might get a handful of her breast. She’d slipped the binding off before undressing and pulling on her nighttime shift. She had to let them down at some point.

  “It’s me, Henry.”

  Tressa held her tongue. What did the boy want with her? They hadn’t spoken more than a word to each other.

  “Thank you.”

  “For?” Tressa asked, remembering to disguise her voice. Though in a whisper, she wasn’t sure Henry would be able to tell the difference.

  “For trying to fight with me and not treating me like a child.”

  Tressa nodded, still unsure why he felt the need to tell her this now.

  “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

  Tressa was about to ask that very question when a dark hand clamped over Henry’s mouth.

  “It’s bedtime, boys.” Jarrett’s head peeked over Henry’s shoulder. “No more fanciful stories. We’re all equals here. We have no past. No future. All we have is in service to our queen.”