by Raven Dark
The men threw punch after punch while the others circled. If Steel had been moving slowly before, his punches were like lightening, hitting the man’s face, his chest. The man did the same, catching him in the stomach and the head when Steel couldn’t weave out of the way.
Eventually, Steel got him around the waist, lifted him, dropped to his knee, and slammed the man’s back down onto it. The man rolled to the ground like a ragdoll and didn’t move.
“Fuck yeah,” Pretty Boy said. “Only two left. You got this, Brother.”
The man with the club came at him from behind while Steel was still on his knees, the club aimed for his head. Steel rolled sideways out of his way and kicked the club out of the Dreg’s grip just in time to meet the last man’s attack.
The swordsman swung and jabbed, but Steel danced out of his path. One swing missed Steel’s head but got the other man in the shoulder. The blade glanced off the armor, but the strike made the man drop his weapon.
Taking advantage of the situation, Steel caught him in the face with a one-two punch, sending him to the ground. The man tried to roll away, but Steel shoved him flat with his boot. Then he picked the man up around the neck, putting his arm around him from behind.
One jerk of his other arm, and the man’s head turned on an unnatural angle. Steel dropped him, and the Dreg lay still.
Steel pushed to a stand, turning to meet the last opponent, staggering. The swordsman grabbed him around the neck from behind.
The blade to Steel’s throat.
“No. No, no…” I closed my eyes.
When I opened them, the swordsman was turning Steel around and kicking him to his knees in front of Saketh’s throne, with a sword still at his throat.
“Kill him! Kill him!” the crowd roared.
Saketh thumped the arm of his throne, chanting with them.
“Fuck. What are you doing, buddy? Get up!” Pretty Boy hissed.
Steel slowly stood, arching his back inward, like a frightened cat.
The man’s arm tensed for the slice.
Steel threw his elbow into the man’s chest. The Dreg stumbled, losing his hold, and Steel turned at the waist, throwing his elbow into his face.
The man’s head snapped back. He dropped to his knees. Steel spun and grabbed his opponent’s head. His arms jerked, and the man’s neck snapped.
As soon as the man lay dead, Steel turned to Saketh. The crowed thumped their feet and booed.
Steel ripped the armor from his arm and held it up, then dropped it deliberately to the ground. He wiped a bloody nose and spat blood.
“It’s done, Dreg” he growled. “You had your fucking fight. Now let everyone go.”
Saketh glanced around at everyone.
The spectators continued to boo and shout, “No! Kill him!”
When Saketh looked at Steel again, his smile was twisted. Dread made my stomach tighten.
“It seems my men don’t agree.”
He glanced over at two of his guards. I hadn’t even noticed that they’d moved inside the ring, keeping to the edges of it. Both had bows in their hands.
“It was a good fight, Gladiator. I almost wish I could keep you.”
“What?”
Saketh nodded to the two guards. “Kill him.”
“You fuck,” Steel snarled.
The guards took aim.
“Not so fast, Saketh.”
I blinked. Sheriff had been sitting on the ground beside me, his hands tied behind his back, but now he stood behind Saketh’s throne, a blade to the Dreg leader’s throat.
Saketh’s eyes went wide. I glanced around behind me. One of the guards who’d been standing over me lay crumbled, a scabbard for a knife on his hip now empty, blood spilling from his neck.
How had Sheriff…
“Call your bowmen off,” Sheriff ordered just as I turned back to him. He pressed the blade harder to Saketh’s throat.
Saketh waved a hand, gesturing for the men to lower their bows. They did.
“What are you going to do now, General?”
But if Sheriff replied, I didn’t hear what he’d said. An explosion shattered the night, and a plume of smoke went off in the middle of the ring. Smoke and fire went up everywhere.
I coughed, and when I peered into the smoke, I saw Utar running with one of the explosive canisters in his hand.
The world exploded in shouts and chaos, men running this way and that, people grabbing weapons from the guards, from the table. Saketh roared something over the crowd I couldn’t make out, and I tracked his movements as he ran toward an area where the smoke wasn’t as thick, surrounded by five of his men.
Utar threw another canister; it went off with a bang, and Saketh and his men disappeared from view inside the cloud of smoke and flames.
Where was Steel? I couldn’t see him anywhere. I could barely see my masters beside me, twisting and thrashing to get out of their binds. I coughed and wriggled, but my ropes wouldn’t give.
Then someone had my wrists and was pulling me to my feet.
A guard’s gruff voice was in my ear, shouting over the noise. “Up. Let’s go, slave.”
Beside me, feet shuffled, and more Dregs pulled my masters up.
“On your feet, worms. No one’s getting out of here.”
There was a crack and crunch of bone, and the guard holding me grunted, then his grip on me fell away.
I turned awkwardly with my hands still bound. Steel’s face was in mine.
“Steel!”
Before he could reply, another explosion went off close by, drowning him out.
Sheriff rushed over and sliced off Hawk’s ropes, then Hawk raced over to me, untying my hands, pausing part way through to kick away a guard who came at him. Next thing I knew, he had me over his shoulder. He ran with me toward where the male slaves had corralled the women and the wounded.
“Emmy…where’s Emmy?” I coughed on what little smoke hadn’t dissipated from the camp.
He set me down with the others and nodded over the way we’d come. T-Man was carrying Emmy toward us. “She’s fine. Stay here.”
“Master…” I started, seeing one of the Dregs running for him.
Hawk turned to one of the men who’d picked up a sword. “I need to borrow that.” He took it and whipped around, cutting off the Dreg’s head. “T-Man, watch them,” he said over his shoulder, nodding to us.
While the former captives and the rest of the Legion had the Dregs preoccupied, T-Man shepherded us toward the trees at the edge of the camp. I stopped to look back at the melee. Hawk had joined the fray, dancing a dance of death with the Dregs who attacked him. Pretty Boy got one of the Dregs in the stomach with a sword, and when he turned, he ended up back to back with Hawk.
Hawk took off another Dreg’s head and then turned and got another one just before the Dreg took off Pretty Boy’s arm with a blade.
Pretty Boy faced him while they continued to fight. “Don’t think this means we’re best pals again,” he growled.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.
The two men swung swords and circled, driving back and cutting down Dregs on all sides.
I felt a strong grip on my arm and looked up into T-Man’s angry eyes.
“Woman, come on!”
T-Man hurried us behind the trees, looking around for a better place to hide. There wasn’t one. He swore. “Stay here, out of sight. Utar!”
The silver-eyed leader nodded and brought two of his men over to guard us. T-Man took out several Dregs who came too close to our hiding place.
“I don’t know who you are,” Utar said quietly to me. “But I won’t forget what you did for us.”
“You mean what I tried to do,” I said. “I almost got us all killed. I still might.”
“Don’t sell yourself short,” one of the women said next to me, making me look at her. Curly hair almost as red as Cherry’s framed what must have been a beautiful face once, though now one cheek was puckered with old scars, and one of her green eyes
was milky white. “You started something here.” She glanced around at other women huddled with us. “I don’t think you realize what you’ve done.”
Some of the women nodded. Others squeezed my shoulders.
T-Man returned to us. “Utar, Sheriff is looking for you. You know who he is, right?”
Utar nodded and rushed off into the battle, and T-Man stood guard over us.
I was about to answer the redheaded woman who’d been speaking to me, but something caught my eye in the middle of the camp where the fight still raged.
“Where the fuck is Saketh?” Sheriff roared to Steel as the two of them threw a keg into two oncoming Dregs. The keg hit them and flew apart, sending the Dregs back and spraying them with moonshine. “I want that fucker’s head in my hand before this is over.”
An explosion went off nearby, drowning out whatever Steel said in reply. I looked around. I didn’t see Saketh anywhere. If he escaped…
Another explosion went off, the canister landing between us and our guards, forcing us to leap one way, the men to go the other. Flames roared up, licking at the trees and grass near us, cutting us off from our protection detail. I saw T-Man get up and try to make his way toward us, but the fire kept him at bay.
One of the Dregs came from another direction and reached for a woman lying a few feet from me. She picked up a branch from the ground and whacked him across the head with it. Blood sprayed.
Maker, the mayhem was never-ending.
Another one ran at the woman. I acted without thinking, throwing myself between them before he could catch her from behind.
“Even better.” The Dreg, the same one I’d seen earlier with the red hair, grabbed me and spun me so his chest was against my back.
I didn’t even get the chance to shout for help.
The sound of a blade being unsheathed met my ears, and then cold, sharp metal pressed against my throat.
Epilogue: Brothers in Arms
Later, after all the fighting was over and life returned to whatever passed for normal on this Maker-forsaken cluster fuck of a trip, I’d wonder how the hell I was lucky enough to even see what had happened.
I’d never been a man of prayer, not with how often I’d seen the world turn to shit, but when it was all over, I’d find myself awfully close to thanking the Maker that things hadn’t turned out much worse.
The Four had centered our part of the battle in the middle of the ring, Sheriff and Steel taking out Dregs from every direction. Hawk sliced off one head after another a few feet away, and I’d been running another through when I saw her.
Through the smoke and fire, I could just make out Setora at the treeline. A Dreg had a knife to her throat, and he bent to her ear.
Protective anger roared through me like a lion. I yanked my sword out of my opponent’s chest, and before he’d even hit the ground, I was running across the twenty-foot expanse of camp between us.
Halfway to her, Hawk danced out of the way of someone’s blade and took a Dreg down. When he turned, I grabbed the knife at his hip and pulled it free. Then I pivoted, ran a few steps, and threw the blade, end over end, into the fucker’s head.
The knife went right through the side of his skull. He dropped to the ground, and Setora whirled around to me, her face pale, her violet eyes wide with relief.
“You all right, Princess?” I grabbed her shoulders, looking her over. She shook like a leaf but nodded. There was a small cut on her neck, a trickle of blood running down toward her shirt. “It’s not a bad cut.”
Her gorgeous eyes, gorgeous even with that black makeup running down her face, quickly looked me over, and some of the color returned to her cheeks.
It warmed my belly to see the relief there.
I hadn’t had any time alone with her since we’d headed out on this crazy-ass trip. As soon as we got out of here, I’d remedy that.
I turned and found Utar and pushed Setora towards him. “Take care of her, Utar.”
As soon as Utar had hold of her, I ran back toward the fight. Sheriff and Hawk had gotten ahold of a couple of the Dregs’ explosives, long sticks that looked like dynamite but were longer, thicker, and far more potent. They tossed the sticks into the crowds of Dregs.
Bodies flew. I grabbed an explosive from Hawk, lit it, and tossed it at three oncoming Dregs. Screams went up, smoke billowed, and the forest floor turned red with blood.
The last Dreg ran at us, firing a bolt at Sheriff. I shoved Sheriff aside and the bolt hit the ground behind us. I drew my sword and cut the Dreg through the neck. He fell, head rolling.
“General.” I helped Sheriff to his feet. Hawk joined us, tossing a Dreg’s sword aside as he went. We scanned the camp, all of us winded, our blood running high.
Bodies lay everywhere, and none of the Dregs moved. Utar and his men came out of the fire and smoke, leading Setora and the other women out of their hiding place with T-Man. Some of T-Man’s clothes looked singed, but he appeared otherwise unharmed.
Good, because we had something to deal with.
I exchanged a look with Hawk, who flicked a look at Setora and gave the smallest nod. I caught T-Man’s eye, ran my gaze over Setora, then back up to T-Man.
Without my saying a word, T-Man grabbed Setora by the shoulders, spinning her to face him.
“What—?”
He ignored her and took a twine of rope from one of his cut’s pockets, deftly winding it around her wrists. Then he pushed her to her knees at his feet.
“Keep her there,” Hawk told him, echoing my thoughts.
“You got it, Captain.” T-Man held the end of the long rope that bound her wrists, gripping it like a leash. Setora’s eyes darted around to each of us—me, Sheriff, Hawk, Steel. Her masters. Understanding filled her eyes, and her shoulders drooped. She looked at her knees.
Sheriff said nothing, but anger rolled off him in waves.
When everyone stood in the middle of the camp, Sheriff turned, looking around, his eyes burning malevolence that had nothing to do with Setora.
“They’re all dead?” he asked me.
“We think so, General.”
“Where is he? Where is Saketh?”
“He got away, Sheriff,” Utar said, joining us with a few more of his men. “I saw him ride off with two of his men on bikes before we could get close enough to him.”
“Fuck,” Sheriff spat.
“We’ll get him, General,” I said.
“Yeah, we will,” he bit out. “And when we do, I’ll hang him in the Grotto for all to see.”
“I’ll help.” Steel wiped blood from his nose and mouth. “Fucker. No one reneges on the Legion.”
I looked Steel over. “Tits of the Maker, you look like shit, Brother.”
Besides a split lip and a bruise on his right cheek, one of his eyes was swelling shut. Blood coated his knuckles on the hand he hadn’t covered in armor, and I didn’t miss the way he’d shuffled his feet coming over here.
“He’s right, you do look like shit,” Sheriff said before Steel could argue. “We’ll get you to Doc as soon as we leave here.”
“Oh, I’m fine, both of you. Mother hens.” But his eyes looked unfocused.
“You’re not alright, Brother. Come on, let’s sit you down.” Hawk put Steel’s arm over his shoulder, ignoring his protests, helped him carefully over to a log at the edge of the ring and sitting him down.
A rare bolt of worry fired up my blood like a shot of poison, sending my mind into a tangle of dark thoughts I couldn’t bring myself to entertain about Steel’s condition. I hadn’t seen Steel look that bad since Sheriff, Hawk, and I had rescued him from the gladiator ring years ago.
Fuck, if Sheriff didn’t kill Saketh, I would. Somehow, over the insanity of the last few weeks, we’d—the Four and Setora—had become a family. A fucked up family, but a family all the same. Be damned if anyone would take that from me now.
I shook off such dour thoughts and turned to Sheriff, Hawk, and Utar who were still talking.
�
�All right, first things first,” Sheriff said. “We won’t be leaving this camp for a while.” He looked around again and ran his palm down his face. “Our immediate concerns right now are putting out all these fires and making sure everyone has medical attention.” He gestured around the fires that still burned about the camp, let off from those explosives. “Then we’ll go through all the supplies and salvage what we can.”
Just like we had at out last camp, after the first attack.
What a fucking trip this had turned out to be.
“Do you have a doctor with you?” Sheriff asked Utar.
“We did.” When Sheriff raised a brow, he looked around at his ragged band of men and women. Loss darkened his eyes. “He was killed a few days ago. Along with five of our men and two of our women. Saketh decided we no longer needed someone to tend to our wounded.”
“Fuck. Exactly how long have you been with them, Utar?” I asked. His black beard and thick hair grew almost to his chest, far more than a few day’s worth of growth. I couldn’t imagine how itchy that would be.
He sighed heavily and seated himself on the log beside Steel, absently scratching at his chest, where a burlap sack now covered him. Some of his crew did the same.
“You lose track of time in a situation like this.” He looked up at the night sky, as if thinking. “I guess it’s been about four months.”
I looked at my general, gauging his reaction. Sheriff’s brows lifted, and he scanned the group. I looked around at them, too, cataloguing the damage. Nearly everyone of them bore the earmarks of torture, scars and burns and breaks, old and new. It was amazing they weren’t all huddled in a corner gibbering like mad men.
“We have a doctor with us,” Sheriff said at last. “I’ll have my men bring him down shortly.” He indicated Hawk and T-Man, who nodded.
As soon as we knew Setora and Emmy were in trouble earlier, we’d sent T-Man to take Diamond back to Doc and Crash at our camp, out of the way of the fight we all knew was coming. T-Man had returned before we’d gone into the Dreg’s camp.
“We’ll escort you back to wherever you live as soon as we take care of your wounded,” Sheriff told Utar now.