The Duelist

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by Eric Vall


  Her skin was glowing with a light sheen of sweat, and her natural musk reminded me of a fresh summer meadow. Underneath the warm bright scent was something darker and baser like the smell of a storm just before the rain. It was a scent that spoke to the most primal parts of me and sent an electric current running through my veins.

  I could tell Zoie was just as turned on as I was because I felt her nipples stiffen where she was plastered to my front. I couldn’t resist kissing and licking the side of her long creamy neck, and she responded with a moan that sounded like a sexy half-purr.

  That noise nearly killed me, and I grasped her hips with an urgency to bring us even closer together.

  Dancing with Zoie was like having a conversation without words, but with our bodies instead. It was raw and hot, and I didn’t know how long we danced because my whole universe shrank down to the little inhaling gasps she made as I nipped her collarbone.

  Eventually, the whirlwind of heaving and grinding bodies wound down as the music tapered off into something slow and sensual. We swayed together in a type of slow dance as couples began to break off one by one and go back to their seats.

  “My fellow Natavians,” Asher Mec said over by the entrance of the great hall. He stood with his wife, Breeta, and raised a regal hand. “Thank you for a magnificent Blue Night. May the Goddess greet you in the morning.”

  There was a round of applause as the Lord of Nata Isle bade his subjects a good evening. Some people continued to dance softly around us, but I cupped Zoie’s face and pressed my lips to the shell of her ear.

  “Hey, do you wanna get out of here?” I whispered, and I felt her nod her head against mine. “Me, too, let’s go.”

  “Rylan was very adamant about being the one to drive us back to the manor,” Zoie said and laced her fingers through mine.

  “I figured he would be,” I chuckled. That kid was so joyful and eager to please I had to admit he’d kind of grew on me. “Where did he get to?”

  “He said he would be by the stables preparing our carriage after the Dance,” Zoie said as she led me through the great hall and outside a side door.

  The air was cool and crisp and felt wonderful on my sweaty skin, especially after all that dancing. Maybe it was the verna berry wine, but I felt a little punch drunk and high on life, so I guided Zoie to a dark little spot and kissed her full lips for all that I was worth against the palace wall.

  She melted into my embrace and hiked her leg up around my hip. I had no choice but to grab the back of her silky thigh so we wouldn’t lose our balance, and she gave me one of those little half-purrs in approval.

  Her lips were like those succulent woot fruits, and I felt like a man dying of thirst because I couldn’t stop taking sips from her fragrant red mouth. Her sharp teeth nibbled my lower lip, and I growled as I pushed my erection into the cradle of her hips when she undulated her body against mine.

  Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted from the stables just a few feet away from us, and Zoie and I were snapped out of our heated moment.

  “You dare dishonor my wife, you little scourge-mite!” thundered an angry voice.

  “Please, Asher Gordos!” Rylan’s voice yelled out, followed by the sound of an almighty crack, and then muffled sobbing.

  Zoie and I gave each other a look, and then we ran up the hill.

  “You worthless scat slinger!” the vulture-man bellowed just as Zoie and I burst through the stables.

  Rylan was curled up into a ball on the packed dirt ground as Asher Gordos kicked the living shit out of him in a rage. Vel-Rala stood to the side with her white feathered crest fluffed high, and she wore a vicious expression of glee on her face.

  “Hey, what’s going on?” I shouted, and I pulled Rylan off the floor and away from the vulture-man’s next kick.

  The vulture-man tried to come after Rylan again, but I halted him with a firm hand on his chest.

  “What the hell are you doing to my servant?” I demanded.

  “Your… servant?” he asked as the color drained from his already pasty face so his bald head looked like a shiny sweaty pool cue. Then his beetle-black eyes darted over to the cockatoo woman. “I thought he was the Asher Lord’s servant.”

  “For tonight, he was given to me, so that makes him mine,” I growled as I tried to dial up the intimidation factor. Jenner never mentioned a Gordos when he gave me the rundown of the island’s MVPs, so I automatically assumed the vulture-man was a single-ranked Asher, which put me above him socially.

  “The little whelp spilled wine all over my Vel-Rala and ruined her ceremonial dress.” Gordos backed up several feet so he could hover around his wife. “She was finally chosen this year by the Lord Asher to Dance, and this little brat destroyed her chance to bring honor to my house! He must pay with his death in a Duel.”

  “Woah, hang on, I’m pretty sure Rylan didn’t mean to ruin your dress, Vel-Rala,” I said to the cockatoo-woman.

  She scoffed and smoothed her hands down her skimpy damp sheath dress, and I noticed most of her inky tattoos were smeared as well.

  “I was just minding my business and making merry with the other guests when this little reprobate threw a goblet of wine right down the front of my dress,” she said in a victimized tone of voice that was obviously faked for dramatic effect.

  “She called Ms. Zoie a Varthan whore!” Rylan blurted out.

  “I absolutely did not!” Vel-Rala gasped and put her hand over her wounded heart.

  “Yes, she did!” Rylan spat, and he wiped some of the blood off his face from where his lip was busted.

  “You dare call my wife a liar?” Gordos roared and lunged after Rylan again.

  “Everyone stop for a second!” I commanded and easily blocked the ham-fisted swing Gordos was about to throw.

  “Who are you to order me?” Gordos challenged as he got into my face with his boozy breath, but before I could answer back, Zoie stepped in.

  “He is a third-ranked Asher, and your superior, Gordos.” My wife pulled Rylan farther away from where Gordos and I were facing off, and she gave me a look that kind of said “play along.”

  I straightened my spine, rested one hand on the pommel of my sword, and tried to adopt the same douchey entitlement as all the other Duelists I’d met so far.

  “That’s right, Asher Gordos,” I intoned and then looked down at his Duelist Stone. There was a shield in the middle the same as mine, but there was only one fish, which confirmed my theory of him being a single-ranked Duelist. “It’s been a long night, and currently your issue with my driver is preventing me from going home. That means now you have a bigger issue, and that issue is with me.”

  “You remember Dagmar, right?” Zoie purred with an icy edge to her voice. “If Alex could kill a third-rank when he had no status, imagine what he could do to you now that he is two ranks above you.”

  Gordos’ scraggly black eyebrows inched their way up his bald head, and beads of sweat rolled down toward his pointy chin.

  “N-No, I have no quarrel with you, Asher,” Gordos said in a voice that cracked somewhat and made him sound even more vulture-like.

  “But the boy shamed me, Gordos,” Vel-Rala butted in with a pout. She looked like a spoiled child who was told she couldn’t have her dessert, and I figured my suspicions were right about her all along: she was just a spiteful troublemaker.

  “Dear--” Gordos tried.

  “Are you going to let your beautiful wife become a mockery?” she cut off her ugly vulture husband. “What will the other wives say about me in the market? What will the other Ashers say about you?”

  Gordos frowned, and his shoulders hunched up toward his ears, which made him look even more like his species implied.

  “Clearly, as a respected Asher yourself, you can see the situation,” Gordos said as he turned back to me. “My wife deserves recompense for the boy’s insolence.”

  “And what about my wife?” I asked and took another step into the greasy man’s space. “I really don’t
take it lightly that there might be a chance your wife has been spreading gossip.”

  Gordos slithered his eyes over to his wife, and she squawked as her white crest ruffled even higher, if that was possible.

  “I keep telling you I did nothing of the sort!” she exclaimed as she shot dagger-like glares at all of us. “If I said anything, then it was simply me stating the facts.”

  “Facts about what?” I asked calmly and then massaged my thumb into the meat of my right palm.

  “It’s common knowledge your Varthan wife is little more than an uneducated barbarian only good for warming beds,” the cockatoo-woman sniffed as she crossed her arms in disdain. “If I repeated a basic fact, it’s not gossip, is it?”

  The cockatoo-woman eyed Zoie up and down as if she was dog shit on the sidewalk, and I watched as Zoie’s usual stoic expression broke just a fraction. She was trying so hard not to let this nasty woman’s words affect her, but I caught how her indigo eyes dimmed, and she glanced down at her form as if she could find out what made her so flawed.

  “Perhaps our husbands should duel,” Zoie growled at Vel-Rala. “Then, once mine wins, you’ll be his wife to do with as he pleases. He is, after all, more powerful than your husband, and it’s obvious to all here we’ve been publicly insulted.”

  Vel-Rala’s mouth opened when she realized Zoie spoke the truth, and now she was just two bad moves away from being my property, along with everything else her husband owed.

  Well, if I could beat the guy in a duel, but they both didn’t know I was still a fish out of water here.

  Zoie’s poker game was wayyyy better than mine.

  “I think we need to come to an arrangement that honors us both without a duel.” The vulture man cleared his throat. “I mean no disrespect to you, Asher Brightwood, so if we can resolve this without violen--”

  “Apologize,” I said, and then I jabbed Gordos square in his big beaky nose.

  “Whhhaaa!” Blood gushed down the vulture-man’s face as the momentum of my strike propelled him backward into a bale of hay.

  “You definitely now have a problem with me,” I growled as I marched over to the worm and dragged him up by his collar. “And you have about ten seconds to convince me and my wife that you and I shouldn’t duel. You better hurry.”

  “Please, Asher Brightwood,” Gordos tried to backpedal as he grinned through his bloody teeth. “I’m sure we can make other arrangements that could appease all of us. I can provide inside information on the upcoming canterfly races. You can use your higher Duelist status to cast a bigger lot, and then maybe we can split the gold.”

  “I’m not interested,” I said and then shoved him against one of the support beams in the stable. “Try harder.”

  “Come on, Dagmar and I did it all the time,” he cajoled with a waggle of his scraggly eyebrows. “We developed a harmonious partnership, then, and there is no reason why we can’t just pick that up where Dagmar left off.”

  “Dagmar didn’t just leave off, I killed him, remember?” I asked as I swung around and threw him to the middle of the stable.

  Man, I hated people like Gordos and his wife. They were the type of people who would try to weasel their slippery way into any situation as long as it made them look good. Then they would use up and trample on the weak at the first opportunity.

  I stalked up to him and prepared to give him a kick to the ribs, but then Vel-Rala jumped in between me and my goal.

  “Wait!” she cried out, and a few of her white puffy feathers molted off her head in stress. “Can I propose a trade that will satisfy us both?”

  “What trade?” I growled out as Zoie came up beside me and gripped my forearm. “I’m pretty sure you have nothing we want.”

  “In the case where one Asher’s wife offends the other’s honor, a peaceful negotiation can be met through the exchange of heirlooms or other precious items,” Vel-Rala said as she removed a tarnished silver bracelet with what looked like black pearls spaced all around the band.

  “Go on,” I ordered, and then Vel-Rala handed the junky looking thing out to Zoie.

  “This has been in my family for many generations, may it now bring value to your household,” the bird-woman said still with a poor attitude, but Zoie took the bracelet from the cockatoo-woman with perfect grace and put it around her wrist.

  “Thank you, my husband’s honor has been satisfied,” she said as she dipped her head in respect for the ritual that had just taken place.

  Once the exchange was completed, Gordos scrambled to his feet and almost literally hid behind his wife’s skirts.

  Coward.

  “Great,” I said and glared at the pair. “Rylan, please get our carriage ready so we can finally go home.”

  “Not so fast!” Vel-Rala screeched, and she snatched Rylan’s arm with her sharp taloned hand as he tried to slip around her. “Our differences have been settled, but the boy still needs to pay for his atrocious behavior. You and your wife will have to get another carriage home because this little urchin will answer to the Asher Lord!”

  “Is this really wise of you, Vel-Rala?” Zoie intervened smoothly as if she was a born and bred diplomat. “Don’t forget why we are all in this place to begin with. I think a little wine on your dress is a small price to pay when the alternative is my husband killing yours. Just because we came to an agreement doesn’t mean I have forgotten your words, and neither has Alex. If he fights Gordos in a Duel, do you honestly think he will keep you around as his wife? He’ll take his fun, and then where would you be?”

  “Oh, my…” Vel-Rala gasped and blushed as she looked at me.

  “One more thing.” Zoie’s sharp eyes pinned the bird-bitch in place like she was an interesting specimen ready for her to dissect slowly and painfully. “If you are going to gossip, make sure you get your facts straight and do your research. It’s common knowledge I killed my last husband’s wife.”

  “Fine!” The bird woman trembled as more white feathers molted off her. “I am appeased!”

  “Fine,” I said as I also crossed my arms. Then I took a step forward and addressed the bald man once more. “But if I ever catch you or Vel-Rala slandering or spreading lies about my wife again, you and I will finish what we started, Gordos.”

  “Is that a threat?” Gordos sneered.

  “It’s a fucking promise.” I pinned Vel-Rala with my stare. “From this point on, you both will stay away from us, including Rylan. Is that clear?”

  “Tch.” Vel-Rala clicked her teeth, but she nodded anyway. “Come on, husband.”

  Gordos shot me another scowl, but he followed his wife out of the stables without another word.

  “Rylan, is our carriage ready?” I asked.

  Rylan sniffled a little, and then he wiped his nose again on the back of his hand. “Yes, Asher Brightwood.”

  “Hey,” I said and put a hand onto his shoulder so he would stop looking like a kicked puppy. “Alex, remember?”

  “Thank you… Alex,” Rylan said with the smallest of smiles. He wasn’t as depressed as before, but he never quite regained his earlier pep.

  “It will be better tomorrow, Rylan,” Zoie said, and she gently lifted the boy’s chin so she could examine his bruised face. He pulled away a moment later like a skittish animal, and Zoie sighed as she dropped her hand.

  “Why don’t you pull the carriage out for us, and we will wait for you out front?” I suggested.

  “Okay,” Rylan said and ducked away from Zoie’s probing gaze.

  Zoie and I let him have a moment of privacy and walked back outside.

  “You did a kind thing for Rylan back there,” I said and turned Zoie to face me. “You’ve had a target on your back all night, and you still stepped in even though it might have cost you.”

  “I did because the cost was worth it.” She shrugged, and her lack of hesitation to do whatever it took to help someone in need was just another reason why I was madly falling for this woman.

  “I feel lucky to know you, an
d it’s times like these where I don’t even miss home.” I held both of her hands in mine and brought her close so I could touch our foreheads together.

  “I know what you mean,” Zoie whispered and pulled back a little so she could give me a sweet kiss. “And I think I am the lucky one. I’m so used to people looking down on my heritage, and everyone who is not an Asher is just… property, so being the subject of your compassion constantly takes me by surprise.”

  “Why does everyone look down on you, anyway?” I asked her and rubbed soothing circles into the back of her hands with my thumbs. “Is it really just because you’re Varthan?”

  “The population of Vartha is three females for every one male,” she explained. “That means there are not a lot of Duelists, and the ones Asher Sskern mentioned are all focused on training warriors, not nobles, to build up their armies in case another Demon Tide occurs. The other Duelists on Vartha, however, are in the business of trading desirable Varthan women to those for the right price. It’s no wonder Vel-Rala’s ilk think I’m only good for warming beds in an Asher’s harem.”

  “That’s how you ended up with Dagmar,” I said as another piece of the Zoie puzzle fell into place. I wanted to ask her more questions about this, but before I could, Rylan came around the corner with the carriage and those creepy/cute caterpillar creatures.

  Rylan jumped down from the driver’s seat and opened the carriage doors. His eyes were puffy from crying, but Zoie and I ignored it as we took our seats. The poor kid was trying so hard to be useful, and we both didn’t want to embarrass him any further.

  The ride back to the manor was fueled with tension. The fiery passion had cooled between Zoie and me, but it was by no means gone. Instead, I felt a slow burning simmer between us that could still be ignited into a roiling boil at any minute.

  Zoie curled herself up in my lap similar to the way she did when we first shared a carriage, and we spent the ride in silence just holding each other. I was beginning to realize Zoie was the type of person who thrived on physical contact, and I didn’t know if it was because she was part feline or not, but I wanted to be the one to satisfy her hunger for intimate touch. In fact, maybe I was a little touch starved, too, because I couldn’t stop myself from caressing every inch of her exposed skin.

 

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