by Kyle, Celia
“You will learn respect,” he hissed into her ear. “And you shall learn to cooperate. If you keep being difficult, you can join Nakan at the bottom of the cliffs. Others from your vessel can easily take your place.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and fought back her tears, but they escaped her eyes anyway. She scrambled to grasp Chaze’s arm, struggling to push him off her. She kicked and struggled but it was like trying to move a heavy boulder. He didn’t even seem to feel her attempts to throw him off her.
“Screw you,” she hissed and spat in his face.
Chaze growled and dragged her toward the door to his quarters.
Before he could get her through the entryway, dragging into her new version of hell, a warrior ran down the tunnel. “Warlord Chaze!” He waved a hand to get Chaze’s attention. “Your presence is needed in the hall.”
Chaze spun on the man, fury in every tense line of his body. “I told you to keep them waiting. I will be there soon.”
“My apologies, Warlord,” the warrior rushed out with a quick, nervous bow. “The warlords grow restless. They know Warlord Nakan has not been seen all day. Rumors spread of what happened to him. Warlord Danzer calls for a search of the tunnels and Warlord Kamog states that if Nakan has met with an accident, he will stake a claim to the title of warlord of the Hard Sands. The remaining warlords argue, and battle will soon occur.”
“Bah!” Chaze slammed a fist into the wall and then turned a glare on Kalinda. His face wrinkled in thought for a moment before he turned to the warrior. “Make sure none come this way. If anyone attempts to enter my quarters, kill them.”
The warrior’s eyes widened, and he stammered his response. “Y-yes, Warlord.”
Chaze pushed Kalinda into his rooms and she stumbled, crumbling to the ground and falling on her ass. He stood in the doorway, pointing a meaty finger at her. “You will wait until you are called. Do not even think of being difficult.”
Chaze slammed the door, leaving her alone in the room.
Kalinda crawled to her feet and rushed to the door, yanking and pulling on the handle. Locked. She pounded on the door, voice raised to be heard through the thick panel. “Help! Let me out! You have to let me out. He’s killed Nakan and who knows what he’ll do next. Please, let me out.”
The warrior stationed outside didn’t respond. Either he was too loyal to Chaze or too uncertain about what was going on. Regardless, it didn’t seem like he was going to help her get free.
Kalinda spun and scanned the room. It was sparsely furnished with wooden dressers and a simple table with a set of chairs. The walls were covered in animal skins and hunting trophies, but she didn’t see anything in the room she could use as a weapon. At least, not at first glance.
She searched the room, hunting for anything she could use to escape captivity. She had to find Aarom—the only Ateran she could trust. If she could explain what happened, maybe Aarom could stop the other warlords from rallying behind Chaze. She didn’t know much about how Ateran leadership operated, but if she understood Nakan correctly, Chaze should have challenged him to a formal duel in front of witnesses. He shouldn’t have murdered him on the mountainside. The details might be enough to convince the others that Chaze didn’t have a claim to the leadership of the Hard Sands. If they knew of his dishonor—that he murdered Nakan—they could reject him and choose another leader. She had no idea who that person might be, but anything was preferable to Chaze leading the nation.
Then she thought of the other human women from the crashed ship. They had no clue about what was going on and she hadn’t had a chance to speak with them since the banquet. So much had happened—from the cave-in to Nakan’s murder. She couldn’t stop to think about what the others were going through. Were they safe? Would they be cared for? A few had attracted the attention of some of the males, but she didn’t know if they were kind and understanding like Nakan or aggressive and violent like Chaze. Someone needed to look out for those women, especially with the city on the verge of a massive upheaval, but there was nothing she could do locked in a room.
She stopped and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with air while she struggled to steady her nerves. She needed to think, to focus on a solution instead of dwelling on the problems. In engineering, there was always a solution. She just had to find it. If she could get her head on straight…
She made a mental to-do list. Number one was getting out of the room and two was slipping past the guard. The last—finding Aarom. She could tackle the issues one by one.
She stopped hunting for a weapon—it would be useless in her hands—and instead sought anything she could use as a tool. In the washroom she found a few metal files and clippers, things she’d seen Nakan use to clean and polish scales as well as sharpen his claws. She gathered them and headed for the door, crouching until she was even with the lock.
She peered into the lock, examining it closely. It appeared crude and old-fashioned, similar to the types used on Earth before the industrial revolution. She mentally whispered a prayer of thanks to the goddess, thankful the Aterans didn’t use some of their more advanced technology in their day-to-day lives.
She slipped two of the long, straight tools into the lock and worked them around the interior, struggling to figure out how an Ateran mechanism worked. And then she thanked the goddess a second time because it turned out not to be much different than a tumbler system on a lock on Earth. Within a couple of minutes, she had it disengaged. Now to figure out what to do with the guard.
She tucked the tools in her pockets, mind churning through ideas as she tried to think of the best way to get past the guard. Fighting was out of the question and reasoning with him hadn’t worked. She needed another option.
She looked around the room once more, gaze falling on a lamp set into the wall. She went to the light and used one of the tools to pry it open, finding a deahmid stone inside. She didn’t know how they worked, but Nakan said they were used to power most Ateran technology, which meant they had to hold some sort of electric charge.
She set the stone on the table and struck the gem with her metal tool. A bright spark shot off from the stone and she grinned.
Gathering some of the furs from the walls, she piled them a few feet behind the door. She set the deahmid stone in the center of the pile and then struck it with her tool until the sparks from the gem caught the furs on fire. Then she stepped back, put a hand on the door handle and held her breath.
It didn’t take long for the fire to spread through the furs, setting the entire pile ablaze and filling the room with smoke. When the air was cloudy and room obscured, she opened the door and hid behind it.
The guard outside spun in shock, a yelp escaping the warrior, and he rushed inside. From her position behind the door, she watched him grab a nearby throw rug and use it to beat at the flames in an attempt at smothering them.
While he was distracted by the fire, Kalinda slipped out the door to freedom. She fled down the hall, feet pounding on the stone floors as she ran as fast as she could. She glanced over her shoulder, seeking any sign of pursuit and… found none. She released a sigh of relief. Now she just had to find Aarom and explain everything to the older Ateran.
She made her way through the tunnels until she reached a familiar part of the underground city. Unfortunately, she didn’t know where to find Aarom’s quarters or where he spent his time during the day. And it wasn’t as if she could stop and ask another Ateran for help. Not without knowing if the warrior was loyal to Chaze or if they would honor Nakan’s memory.
She spotted a few Aterans moving past a side tunnel and she stopped, throwing herself against the wall to remain unseen as they passed. They moved at a hurried pace, speaking low among themselves.
“…Warlord Chaze plans to address the people.”
“Where is Warlord Nakan?”
“We should speak with Paladin Aarom. He will know what is going on.”
They soon passed out of hearing range and she hesitated a moment
before slipping down the tunnel behind them. If there was any chance they might lead her to Aarom… She had to take it.
After a dozen twists and turns, she found herself in a broad, high-ceilinged tunnel. At the end, it opened to a massive underground chamber lit from above by hundreds of deahmid stones. They sparkled so brightly in the roof that the stone overhead looked like a starry night. A rumble of voices came from inside the chamber and she slipped forward—sticking to the shadows—until she could get a better look.
The room was the largest she’d seen in the underground city. Steps were carved into the room, rising up like stadium seating on all sides. And they were filled with Aterans who used the stairs as benches as they gathered to watch the spectacle below. In the center at the lowest level stood a broad platform and atop it, a dozen tall, powerful Aterans argued. She recognized several as lesser warlords she had met during the banquet.
And Chaze was among them.
“I say again,” one of the warlords raised a fist and elevated his voice to be heard over the din, “a search party must be formed to confirm Warlord Nakan’s whereabouts. We cannot proceed without proof.”
There was more arguing while Chaze looked on, his fierce glare leveled at his fellow warlords.
“It should be clear,” another warlord spoke. “Nakan has perished. Half the city reports this. It is time for new leadership.” He pounded a fist against his chest. “I state my claim to be warlord of the Hard Sands.”
Several shouted their protests.
“Why should we back your claim?”
“What victories have you earned?”
“What honor have you brought to your family name?”
The second warlord touched a hand to the hilt of his sword. “If you doubt my right to the title, you are free to challenge me to the Right of Ka’Eana.”
“Enough!” Chaze’s bellow snared the attention of the other warlords. “There will be no ritual combat.”
“What right do you have to deny my claim?”
Chaze raised his chin. “I slew Nakan. We dueled at dawn, under the cliffs of our ancestors, and I defeated him in honorable combat. I am warlord of the Hard Sands.”
More shouts. More protests. The Aterans seated around the space rose to their feet, fists waving in the air as they shouted for answers. The warlords gathered in small clusters, heads bent as they discussed the turn of events.
All of this was laid bare for Kalinda as she watched from the entryway. She had to do something, but… what? Chaze’s claim wasn’t true. She’d been there. She’d seen it. If she explained the true events, maybe they would turn on Chaze. Though, with hundreds of Ateran warriors gathered, they might all turn on her. How many were loyal to Chaze? How many could be trusted?
She scanned the room, searching for a familiar face that was nowhere to be found.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. She had to do this. For Nakan—to honor his memory. Even if it meant risking being torn apart by the crowd, the truth had to be shared. She was the only witness, the only one who knew the truth.
She stepped out of the deep shadows, back straight and standing tall. Hands shaking, she tightened them into white-knuckled fists. She took another stride forward and then another, licking her dry lips. She had no idea what to say and had trouble finding her voice, but she was determined to speak.
Kalinda moved into the light and opened her mouth to address the crowd below.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Nakan whooshed back to consciousness precariously spread across a narrow ledge, a few dozen feet between him and the plateau above. He opened his eyes, groaning with the added pain of the twin suns burning into them. He brushed the small stones from his face and then let his attention move to his surroundings, checking his position before he attempted to rise. He looked up, squinting beneath the suns’ bright rays and gauged the climb in his near future.
He had no choice to undertake the climb. Below, a sheer drop extended hundreds of feet to the ground. By the grace of the goddess he had landed on the narrow ledge—unseen by Chaze. He silently sent her a prayer of thanks, knowing she had been looking out for him.
He pushed to wobbly feet, bracing himself against the stone wall. While he steadied himself, he listened for any signs of Kalinda searching for him but heard nothing except the wind billowing through the rocky canyon.
Chaze must have taken her away.
Thoughts of what the dishonorable male might be doing to his kode filled Nakan with an energizing rage. He turned toward the wall, dug his claws into the gray stone, and began his climb. It was difficult to drag his battered body up the cliff face with only narrow crevices for his claws to find purchase. But he could not give up now. He forced himself upward inch by inch until the names of his ancestors appeared above him. He pulled himself up onto the plateau, within the shadows of the ancestral wall once more.
Exhausted and sore to the bone, Nakan didn’t allow himself to rest. The moment he reached the flat shelf, he went into motion, returning to the mountain trail and onward to the city. Based on the position of the suns in the bright Ateran skies, only a few hours had passed since he was tossed to his supposed death, but there was no telling what had happened in the city while he was gone.
When he reached the main trail, he cut off in a different direction, taking a more difficult path across jagged stone slopes. It was a more dangerous path, but the other trail back to the city looped and curved back and forth many times before it reached the main entrance. It was a safer trail, to be sure, but Nakan did not have time for safe. With Eana watching over him, he was confident he could brave the treacherous paths without misfortune befalling him. He moved across the slops as quickly as he could, pushing his battered and bruised body to its limits. When the ground became level, he ran. When the slopes grew steeper, he climbed. The closer he got to the city, the greater his determination became. Chaze would not be allowed to bring harm to Kalinda and he would not usurp Nakan’s position as warlord of the Hard Sands.
When he neared the city, Nakan took a side path, avoiding the main entry in favor of a lesser-used tunnel. It was closer to his quarters and was less likely to draw attention. If Chaze had already announced Nakan’s “death,” entering in this way would give him the element of surprise. He did not want that to be wasted.
He slipped into the tunnels, moving as fast as his aching body allowed. His scales were blood stained from the fight and he found it difficult to breathe. He had likely cracked a few ribs, but there was nothing to be done. They had used the last of the Healing Sands on the injured guard after the cave-in. Had he known what was to come, he might have insisted the sands be saved, but he could not fault Kalinda for insisting the guard be saved.
Nakan cursed himself for allowing trade agreements with the people of the Living Sands to crumble. As soon as this was settled, he would redouble his efforts to find a new source of deahmid. He would travel to the Living Sands himself with gifts for the warlord and negotiate a new trade contract—deahmid for Healing Sands.
However, that would not help him now. Now he had to worry about the vile betrayer—the one who had attempted to kill him without honor.
He made his way through the tunnels, passing near Aarom’s quarters, and heard voices form inside his paladin’s rooms. He moved in that direction, hoping his trusted adviser remained safe. He overheard a loud argument as he approached.
“They are gathered in the hall, Paladin. A decision will be made soon. You should oversee the discussions.”
Aarom grunted. “I will not. My presence would legitimize Chaze’s claim. He would state that I must agree with his appointment—the paladin of the former warlord there to bear witness to his triumph. I will not honor him with my presence.”
“What are we to do?” A voice he didn’t recognize came next.
“We will honor Nakan’s memory. And we—”
“Do not honor me yet, friend.” Nakan limped through the doorway.
&n
bsp; His arrival drew a chorus of gasps from the assembled warriors. Aarom rushed forward, others in his wake, all of whom Nakan recognized and knew were honored and trusted warriors. He was glad to see that some supported him in spite of Chaze’s words.
“Nakan! You live!” Aarom slipped beneath Nakan’s arm and took some of his weight as he guided Nakan inside. He helped Nakan lower to a chair. “Someone fetch a healer. Our warlord is wounded and in need of attention.”
Nakan patted the older male’s hand. “The only one I need is Kalinda. Where is she? What has Chaze done with her?”
“I do not know.” Aarom shook his head. “I have warriors searching for her. They will find her. I assure you it will be done.”
“Bah,” Nakan braced a hand on the arm of the chair and pushed to his feet. “We must find her! And where is Chaze? Before this day is done, I will put an end to him.”
Aarom frowned. “Nakan, do not be hasty. You can barely stand. You must rest and recover your strength. My warriors will find your kode and bring her here. As for Chaze—”
“I will deal with Chaze,” Nakan growled. “After his betrayal… His very breath poisons the air. He cannot be allowed to live. He conspired in the shadows and attacked me without honor. Then he took my kode. For that alone he cannot be forgiven.”
“Nakan…”
“Silence, Paladin.” Nakan raised his chin and stared Aarom down. He never used Aarom’s formal title. Their relationship was too personal, too long-standing since the days of his childhood. Now he did not wish to hear the words of an old friend and advisor. He required the obedience of his paladin, the one warrior whose first duty was to serve and protect Nakan and his family. “Telle me where I can find Chaze. Now.”
Aarom sighed and lowered his gaze. “He has gathered the warlords in the great hall. They discuss your death and the line of succession.”