by Penny Rose
Cade
The Arena Saga, Book One
Penny Rose
Copyright © 2019 by Stay in the Shade Press
All Rights Reserved. This book may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Other Books by Penny Rose
The Pride Chronicles
Book One: Azan
Book Two: Jorran
The Arena Saga
Book One: Cade
Book Two: Arc
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
About the Author
Other Books by Penny Rose
Chapter One
“C’mon, men! Fight for Kondor, fight with honor, and watch your backs.” Cade rallied his men as he bounded through the trees.
They sprinted toward a clearing, the ground reverberating beneath them. Cade knew what approached. War was coming to him and his men whether he wished it or not. His men followed him, screaming their battle-cries that he knew so well as they all readied themselves to draw blood. Their screams echoed through the forest like banshees. Some of the men passed Cade as he raised his warhammer and rushed into the clearing. Every man was ready to show him what their honor truly meant. Ready to die if necessary.
Cade was proud of his men. They had battled together many times, and he knew what they were capable of. He never worried about their skill; they could take care of themselves in any situation. They would watch each other’s backs, and that was all that mattered when it came to battle.
Cade emerged from the trees, his heart thundering in his chest. Battle raged all around him. Gunshots rang out, and blades clashed as men tried to annihilate one another. Cade had been a warrior his entire life. He was raised for combat, and he came from a long lineage of men who knew how to fight. It was in his blood. From the day he was born, he was destined to be a warrior.
Once he was out of the trees, he surveyed the battlefield. There were mercenaries everywhere. The color of his people’s skin set them apart from the mercenaries. Their moss-colored skin blended well with the lush vegetation of Kondor. The tattoos that ran along their bodies were the same silver as the ashen trees he had climbed as a child. His people were one with the planet.
His men were scattered, fighting for him, for what they believed was the right thing to do. For their right to live as free men. Cade knew that he could count on them for anything.
A golden-skinned mercenary fell from the sky, landing right behind Rodgar, who was already engaged in a fight. Rodgar’s braided mohawk whipped in the air as he moved. The merc raised his axe for a surprise attack. Cade rushed to the aid of his comrade, smashing his warhammer into the enemy’s ribs. Bone crunched beneath the blow and the man grimaced in pain as he collapsed.
Cade scanned the battlefield, looking for opportunities to help his men. Their bare chests set them apart from the mercenaries, who were all clothed in dark leathers. The bare chests of the Kondorians represented who they were as a species. Each tattoo was different, something that personalized each man. It was an honor to have the tattoos seared into their bodies. A rite of passage for the men and women as they set down their chosen paths.
When Cade had come of age to become a soldier, the mark on his back was part of the ritual he took. Cade could still remember the day that he officially became the leader of his tribe. Another tattoo, this one on his neck. It had been an honor to have it bestowed on him, and he took the role seriously every single day.
Cade looked up and saw more alien mercenaries raining from the sky. There were so many of them that it was impossible to count, though it was clear that his men were easily outnumbered five to one. Mercs dropped from the spaceship hovering in the sky and scattered as soon as they landed. Like parasites.
Cade moved from one fight to the next, crushing opponents and rallying his men. They might be outnumbered, but this was their home. Their country. Their planet.
The Kondorians were not parasites. They were predators, and it was time to feast.
Mercenaries continued to jump down, screams tearing from their lungs as they fell from the sky. It was a truly horrifying sight. Steam shot from their boots as they plummeted toward the planet, easing their impact.
They waved looted weapons as they fell, with more weapons strapped around their shoulders and waists. They had guns, knives, and an assortment of melee weapons, but none of the plasma weapons used by most of the empire. The magnetic field of Kondor nullified their effects, forcing the mercs to use more primitive weapons, like bullets and gunpowder. It even kept the spaceships from landing. If a ship got too close to the planet, it was never getting off again.
Bullets were a scarcity nowadays, which put the Kondorians on an equal field, forcing the mercenaries to conserve their ammo. The warhammer Cade carried needed no such restrictions. It radiated unlimited devastation.
Even so, the mercs were well-armed, and Cade knew that they were worthy adversaries. It would not be an easy battle to win, and it rarely ever was. The alien mercs wore a combination of leathers and metal on their clothing. Their attire was the only thing that marked them as a unit. The men and women beneath were an assortment of races with varying skin colors and body types—humanoids, beast-people, some with monstrous appendages that needed no weapons. All outcasts bonded together to wreak havoc on the outskirts of the empire.
As the mercenaries rained around Cade, he briefly wondered if they were going to survive such an onslaught. There were so many of them. More than he had ever seen. The hovercraft had caught them by surprise, but Cade’s men were always ready, rushing to the source at a moment’s notice.
This wasn’t the first time Kondor had been invaded. Slavery was big business across the empire, and the outer planets were ripe for picking. As a source of great warriors, Kondorians were prized in the fighting pits that entertained imperial citizens. The brutality of capturing a Kondorian was the only thing that kept the mercs at bay most of the time. Plasma killed, but melee weapons destroyed.
More of Cade’s men emerged from the jungle, shouting and waving their weapons. The roar of the battle-cry always brought up a power inside of Cade, as though that very sound instilled strength directly into his veins and gave him the ability to overcome anything for his people.
The strength of his men gave him strength. He was their leader and he refused to let them down, no matter the cost.
Cade waged his own war against the invaders, not just on the field but in his mind. There was something about being in the midst of battle that had him questioning his worth as a species and as a man. Would he be victorious this time? Would he fail his men in some way?
There was no true victory to be had on Kondor for the invaders. The Kondorians were not a technological people, nor did they have any desire to become so. The planet provided everything they needed, and its magnetic field protected them from the threats of modern warfare. What was to be gained for them among the stars?
It wasn’t fear that drove his thoughts. Battle was easy. It was a dance of sorts, and Cade danced it better than anyone on Kondor. There wasn’t a man alive that he feared. Still, he knew he had weaknesses. Every day, he tried to dull them and sharpen his streng
ths. He wanted to be the kind of leader that never disappointed, that always pushed his men to be the best. But just like any other leader, there were times that he fell short of his own expectations.
The wars would never end, they knew that. They would go on for century after century, until the end of time. Men of any species liked to fight until the bloody end, it was just the way the universe worked, and he doubted there would ever be a time that there wasn’t blood on the ground. As long as breath was drawn across the universe, the strong would devour the weak.
The mistake of these mercenaries was in thinking that a lack of technology made Cade and his people weak.
Instinct told Cade to duck, and he barely dodged a whip tipped with metal spikes from impaling him. His breath caught as he realized just how close he had come to dying. His instincts rarely failed him, and he was glad his wits had been sharp at that moment.
He launched himself at the whip-wielding mercenary and tackled him to the ground. His warhammer fell from his grip as they rolled around, one trying to overpower the other. His foe was strong, but Cade had not made it this far without an expert understanding of hand-to-hand combat.
Cade slipped out of the grasp of the mercenary only to realize in horror that the weapon he had barely dodged wasn’t a weapon at all. As he tried to dislodge the thing from the alien’s grip, he realized that he wasn’t holding onto the shaft of the weapon but a long, red tentacle. The red-skinned merc had tentacles for arms! Cade didn’t understand how he had missed that.
Horror oozed from his pores as he rolled away from the creature, picking his warhammer off the ground. Two long tentacles whipped through the air, each one wielding a blade. Bulbous blue eyes stared at him with ill intent and a forked tongue licked at the air. There was no way to disarm this monstrosity; he would have to kill it.
The merc marched toward Cade, blades whistling through the air as the tentacles reached out. He slipped past one of them and raised his warhammer overhead, bringing it down with such force that it severed the tentacle from the host. The detached appendage writhed on the ground and dark ichor seeped from the wound.
The merc unleashed a violent scream as its severed limb curled and twitched. He was still screaming when Cade smashed him in the stomach. The blow knocked the merc off his feet, sending him sprawling onto his back.
Cade spotted the knife the creature had dropped and picked it up. It was a good knife, sturdy and sharp. He stalked toward the downed warrior, knife in hand. The merc whipped its one good tentacle at Cade, but one whip was no problem for Cade’s speed. He ducked and weaved, dodging each attack and leaving the blades slicing at air. The tentacles wouldn’t be sneaking up on him a second time.
The next time the creature attacked, Cade stomped its tentacle, pinning it to the ground. His knife cut through the tentacle with ease. In a swift motion, Cade carved up the chest of the merc. The creature screamed in anguish, and the life dimmed from its vibrant eyes.
As Cade watched the creature die, he heard one of his brothers cry out, “For Kondor!” Cade turned to see Cerach lifting a large rock above his head. He brought it down with enough force to crush his opponent’s head.
This was the price of war. Any man in combat eventually realized how easy it was to die, which made it easier to kill. Each kill grew easier once they realized it was something that had to be done. There was no right and wrong in war. There was simply survival. There was savagery, yes, a way that men fought when they felt like they had nothing to lose. For all of them, war was life or death. Somebody was always going to die, and Cade didn’t want it to be him or his men. All politeness or sense of decency disappeared. Men found themselves doing things they might not normally have done in everyday society. For the Kondorians, they knew what they were fighting for, and they fought with both savagery and honor. Cade was glad that they did.
Cade weaved his way through the battle, providing support to those who needed it. The problem with war was that one side didn’t win everything. There was always loss on both sides, no matter the who was victorious. Cade saw brothers die every time they went to war. It was the terrible truth of war that not everyone made it through. The strongest and most talented warriors would make it from one war to the next while those with less experience would often perish on the battlefield. Cade was in charge for a reason. He was known as one of the fiercest warriors in their tribe, and he did his best to pass his experience on to his people.
Cade surveyed the battlefield. Many of his brothers were winning their fights, truly showing a valiant effort, but he couldn’t save everyone. Already, too many Kondorians lay dead. Some of his brothers were broken, too wounded to go on, their blood soaking into the soil.
He would mourn them later. For now, he must continue to fight. If he let their deaths affect him, he wouldn’t be able to go on. He had to stay strong for the men that were still fighting because if he crumbled with the weight of grief at that moment, then they would lose everything.
The mercenaries had never attacked with this much force. Normally, they would attempt to take one or two Kondorians and then leave. Cade needed his men to rally. He wasn’t a heartless soldier—he felt every loss he saw in the clearing that day—but he knew what needed to be done. There would be a time for mourning, but for now, he needed to make sure he was there for his men, fighting for them as they were fighting for him.
Bodies lay strewn across the field. So many that Cade had no idea who was winning. No one truly knew who had won the war until the battles were over. One could guess, but a war could turn at the last minute. Both sides just had to hope that they had men strong enough that they were willing to put their life on the line no matter what happened around them.
Cade had that confidence in his men.
Danir, one of Cade’s closest companions, engaged in battle with a silver-haired beast-man. Danir brandished his weapon with blazing speed, disarming the gun from his opponent before it could be fired. A large reptilian humanoid prowled toward Danir from behind. The reptilian’s scales flushed with color with each movement.
Danir was unaware of the impending attack from behind. Cade needed to stop the creature before it killed his man. He gripped his warhammer and took off at a sprint. As he ran, he felt the power that resided in his weapon. The hammer had been passed down through many generations of his family. Now that Cade finally held its responsibility, he felt a great honor to be able to hold the same hammer that so many great warriors had held before him. It was said that each owner left an imprint of themselves on the weapon before it passed on.
The reptile spotted Cade coming and stepped to the side, dodging Cade’s swing. The warhammer smashed into the ground, spraying dirt into the air. The mercenary brandished a long, wicked blade, stabbing at Cade’s open backside.
Cade felt the attack coming, his instincts saving him again. He flipped the hammer and used the shaft to block. A second blade stabbed around the shaft. Cade stepped back, tripping over a body and falling to the ground. The reptile jumped, both blades pointed at Cade. Cade rolled to the side at the last minute, leaving his opponent stabbing the ground. Cade reach for his hammer as he got to his knees. In a swift movement, he swung the hammer in an arc and knocked the merc off his feet.
With his opponent on his back, Cade finally had the upper hand. He lifted his warhammer overhead. Just before he unleashed hell, Cade heard a deep grunt, and everything went black.
Chapter Two
Cade opened his eyes, and the world spun. A bright light beamed down from overhead, only increasing his discomfort. A sharp pain flared from the back of his head. He reached for the source of the pain, but his hands were bound. Not by rope, but by some electric device. Cade could feel the energy humming inside of it. He pulled against the restraints, but they had no give. There was no escaping these.
He squinted, trying to focus beyond the chaos that reigned inside his mind. His head throbbed and his neck was stiff as a board. It felt like a million miners were digging away at his bra
in, and he wondered if there was any permanent damage to his head.
He was alive, that was all that mattered. He was grateful that whoever hit him from behind hadn’t killed him. As long as he was alive, he had a chance to make it back to his people. He had no idea where he was, and the pounding in his head made it hard to focus on his surroundings. He closed his eyes, hoping it might help him center himself. He needed to clear his mind, to find out anything he could about his location and his captors.
Cade wasn’t alone. The wail of the man beside him made that abundantly clear. Whatever race he was, his voice grated against Cade’s ears. The lean, blue-skinned man was no warrior, that was for sure. Fear practically radiated off him.
Once Cade’s head stopped spinning, he looked around. They were in a long metal tube, with a metal bench attached to both sides. Aside from the people and the bright lights, it was empty. It had to be some kind of holding cell. There were close to twenty others in the room with him. Males and females from many different races. All handcuffed. Some were even chained to the wall.
How long had he been out? And where were they? There was no way to tell what planet they were on. They could still be in some spaceship for all Cade knew. He’d never been on one, but judging by the shiny exterior, this was what he imagined the inside to be like.
Cade gazed upon the other prisoners. Most of them looked lost, helpless. He lifted his chin. He wouldn’t give his captors the satisfaction of seeing him defeated.
There were no other Kondorians here. Had they escaped his fate or were they somewhere else in a similar predicament? His men had fought bravely. Perhaps they had even turned the invaders away. The mercenaries had dropped from the sky thinking the Kondorians would be an easy target without technology.