by Regine Abel
Torvin flinched, a glint of panic settling in his eyes. “You’ve been slaughtering the Fifteen. THAT’s what this is all about.”
I ignored his desperate attempt at diversion.
“The joarkal reek of forxis, which drove them to madness. Hundreds of innocent Braxians have died into their rampage instigated by your Guldan friends,” I continued, inexorably. Angry head nods and murmurs of agreements welcomed my words. “The joarkal population will take years to recover from the massacre we were forced into. Countless of our brothers lay dead or injured in that forest because those cowards you allied yourself with shot them while hidden. Yes, my woman, the alien, for the second time is the reason we stand victorious. So no, Torvin Sedrak, this isn’t about any of the things you’ve claimed, but about your treason against Braxia. Lissy is merely more fuel to my rage.”
“I’ve committed no treason! You are the traitor!” Torvin yelled, taking a step back.
“For your crime, Torvin Sedrak, you will face execution by my hand through single combat. For assisting you in this crime, your three companions will be flayed and spiked in front of your compound as a reminder of what awaits traitors. As for what remains of your clan, they will stand trial or face banishment.”
“Judgment heard and seconded,” Krygor’s voice said behind me.
“Judgment heard and seconded,” Keran said.
I planted my battle axe in the ground like a flag, as it would do too quick a job of killing my opponent, and extended a hand towards Krygor. He approached me and handed me his sword.
“NO! This is a farce!” Torvin shouted, looking for support that didn’t come as more and more voices rose in support of my ruling.
“You can die fighting with what little honor you have left, or you can try to run like the cowards you’ve aligned yourself with.”
Realizing at last that there would be no escape for him, Torvin raised his sword and charged me with a war cry. The dying embers of my battle rage reignited, and I embraced it, letting the bloodlust wash over me. Sword in hand, I met his attack head on, easily parrying the blow. Adrenalin coursed through me, putting me in a strange state of feral euphoria. I laughed as Torvin swung his blade at me with all the strength he could muster. Each clash of our blades sent tremors along my arms, but I welcomed the slight discomfort.
Despite his combat skills, my opponent always tended to be a fool in battle, allowing his emotions to get the better of him. He was tiring himself without causing any damage or gaining any advantage.
Intent on toying with him, I blocked a few more blows and waited for him to raise his weapon. Timing my counter attack, I backhanded him savagely. Blood exploded from his mouth as he stumbled backwards, under the approving cheers of the assembled crowd. Recovering quickly, Torvin came at me again with his sword. I deflected the blow and backhanded him again, hitting the same side of his mouth. This time, he spit out a couple of teeth. The back of my hand pleasantly stung from the force with which I’d struck him.
Enraged, Torvin slashed at me in a frenzy. I was humiliating him by slapping his face like a little bitch instead of punching him like a worthy opponent. I parried and deflected his attacks, inflicting shallow to deep cuts in-between each of his flurries, circling around him like a predator. But as much as I enjoyed canvassing his body with weeping wounds, I soon tired of the game.
Hungry for the sound of his bones breaking, I turned the tables on him, this time, being the one to press the attack. He backed away from the fury of my assault, feebly parrying what he could, enduring the pain of what he couldn’t. Rushing him, I grabbed a hold of his weapon hand, immobilizing it, and slammed the pommel of my sword on the same side of his jaw I had been backhanding. Part of the bones caved in with a satisfying crunch.
Torvin’s scream of pain gurgled as blood flooded his mouth. His left fist connected solidly with the side of my face. Although it should have rattled me, battle rage dimmed the feeling of pain. Still holding his wrist, I brought down the pommel of my sword on the back of his elbow, busting his arm. He roared in agony as his sword fell from his now-limp hand. Despite his pain, Torvin brought his knee up, aiming for my groin or my gut. I barely managed to turn slightly, his knee slamming into my side with bruising force. For all the contempt he inspired in me, I gave him a begrudging respect as a warrior for fighting through the pain and not begging for mercy.
I backhanded his broken jaw again, feeling more bones giving way under the impact. Torvin wobbled on his feet. Releasing the wrist of his broken arm, I wrapped my hand around his neck and pummeled the other side of his face with a series of hard punches under the encouraging shouts of the crowd. Although still conscious, Torvin went limp. With a savage cry, and in an animal display of strength, I lifted my opponent by the neck with one hand before slamming him down on the ground. The crowd roared its approval while the air rushed out of Torvin.
I gazed upon my rival’s bloodied, broken face, his body lacerated with cuts, his arm lying at an odd angle, my bloodlust far from sated. He twitched, fighting to remain conscious. I hoped he would succeed for a while longer. His punition would not only serve to assuage part of my need for vengeance for Lissy, the innocent Braxians killed by the joarkals, and for his betrayal against Braxia, but it would also serve as an example for any other who would even consider pursuing such a foolish course of action.
Marching up to my battle axe still planted in the ground, I picked it up and extended the bloodied sword back to Krygor. He swiftly approached to relieve me of it. My eyes connected with Ravena’s. She stood regal in her celesium armor, her visor down, her beautiful face fierce and devoid of any condemnation. My woman held my gaze, unflinching, the barely perceptible nod of her head confirming her support.
My goddess.
A hush fell over the men as I stomped back towards Torvin, who was struggling to get back on his feet. I kicked his shoulder with the sole of my foot, knocking him once more on his back.
“This is for bringing dishonor to your Ancestor’s clan,” I said, bringing down the flat back of my battle axe on his left calf. He screeched as the bones shattered, his body shaken with spasms. “This is for betraying Braxia,” I said, crushing the bone of his other calf. “And this is for the innocents who fell because of your treachery.”
His eyes rolled to be the back of his head as I smashed the elbow of his remaining good arm. That wouldn’t do. I wanted him conscious for the final blow. I prowled around his broken body, eyeing him with contempt. Lifting my head, I gazed upon my people surrounding me. They eyed me warily.
“I am your Magnar,” I shouted to them, my voice defiant. “Many of you balk at change and yet, twice in less than three days, we’ve almost been defeated because we’re living in the past without proper technology. The world is leaving us behind, and those who would ally with Braxia seek to control us.”
The men nodded, grave expressions on their faces. Even Raylor nodded, a troubled look straining his features. My gaze turned to my woman, and I pointed a hand towards her.
“You demand that females be kept as slaves to your pleasures, as broodmares because you think them inferior creatures. And yet, we all stand here because my female allowed us to see our foe when we’d been sitting blind, taking fire from cowards. Her blade still drips with the blood of the one she has slain. Do you see weakness in this female?”
The men eyed her with a disconcerted admiration and a confused form of respect. She was challenging everything we’d come to expect from females. But how could it be otherwise when we indoctrinated our own females from birth that they were inferior beings, only living to serve men’s needs? How could they show their true worth when any independent thinking on their part, or display of autonomy, would be severely punished?
“Braxia WILL change,” I continued, pivoting on myself to look at every single one of my men. “I will not let us fall into darkness and become vulnerable to external threats. And yes, major changes come with pain. But as the Ancestors are my witnesses, if I have t
o beat change into you, then I will. And those of you who oppose my ruling, I am here,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “Any and all challenges will be accepted.”
“For Braxia,” Krygor shouted. “Long may be your reign!”
“For Braxia,” the voices of the men shouted back.
I walked back to Torvin who had regained consciousness. Breath shallow and eyes filled with pain, he watched me with a glimmer of resignation.
“For your crimes, you will not receive a warrior’s funeral, but will rot here, feeding carrion eaters. May your fate serve as an example. Any and all who would betray me and Braxia will face the Magnar’s mercy… and find none.” Raising my battle axe again, my gaze bore into Torvin. “Your punishment was for your crimes. But this is for my Lissy.”
The back of my battle axe shattered his groin. Torvin’s strangled cry died as soon as it began. His body shuddered, and his eyes turned glassy. Lifting my head in the deadly silence around us, I made eye contact with three of the remaining Fifteen present in the clearing. Two averted their eyes, fear and resentment burning within. The third held my gaze with a strange air of acceptance.
Turning back towards Ravena, I took her hand. “Let’s go take care of our fallen,” I said to my men, and led my woman back into the forest.
* * *
The trip back home had been quiet and solemn, the successful hunt bittersweet. To my relief, we had sustained far fewer casualties than we’d first believed. Guldans had not been shooting to kill but to stun. I could speculate a number of reasons why they would have done so. Without Ravena’s intervention, we would have fallen, stunned by invisible enemies, laying helpless while being trampled and devoured by the joarkals, leaving no evidence of the Guldan’s treachery. In one fell swoop, they would have eliminated the heads of all the clans that opposed an alliance, leaving room for a puppet Magnar they could manipulate at will.
I still seethed that we’d failed to capture a single Guldan alive. Nevertheless, their corpses constituted irrefutable proof of their meddling and of their attack on Braxia. In light of the magnitude of the evidence, the two Guldan Ambassadors had no leg to stand on when I expelled them from Braxia. Where Ambassador Tellin made a last ditch effort, asking me not to condemn all of Guldar for the failings of the few, Ambassador Zorak didn’t argue, graciously accepting their dismissal.
Too graciously.
Even Raylor Caldes showed eagerness to escort the Guldans back to their ship. This incident had been yet another severe blow to Clan Caldes. After the disgrace his first-born son Gerwin had brought upon them, being indirectly responsible for the death of many Braxians was the last thing he’d needed or wanted.
But the Guldans and Caldes’ woes ranked pretty low in my list of concerns right now. Although she hadn’t spoken them out loud, Ravena’s mind overflowed with unanswered questions. They were sensitive topics I hadn’t planned on raising with her until we’d had a chance to see where this relationship was headed. I didn’t want to talk about Lissy, didn’t want to tell her about the shameful things I had allowed, and the horrible crime I had committed. But Ravena was my soulmate.
Aside from battle rage, Braxians possessed no psi abilities. However, even though I couldn’t feel the Tuning like she did, every fiber of my being screamed to me that she was the one. I wasn’t in love with her—yet—nor was she with me, which made having this conversation now all the scarier. Through the eyes of love, she might be more inclined to forgiveness and acceptance. Regardless of my reluctance—and yes, my fears—I needed to be the one to tell her. The longer I delayed, the more likely she’d discover it on her own, maybe in an even darker light.
Ravena followed me quietly as I led her by the hand to my private quarters. My pulse picked up as we walked to the patio at the back of the bedroom. I often had meals on the smaller, dark stone table by the railing overlooking the plaza. This time, however, probably sensing the need for privacy, Muna had laid a snack for us by the larger table near the water fountain, directly carved into the mountain face that blocked off the front and right side of the patio. A long dark-grey stone bench ran along each side of the table, covered with a comfortable dark-red, water-resistant cushion.
I invited Ravena to take a seat. For a moment, I considered sitting next to her but then decided to sit across from her. Not knowing how she would react to my confession, I wanted to give her some space.
She pulled her long braid in front of her, slowly stroking it while staring at me with a serious, expectant look. I cleared my throat, my stomach knotting with rising anxiety.
“It appears you are meant to forever be my savior,” I said, in a pathetic effort to lighten the mood.
Ravena smiled and then nodded in acknowledgement.
“You not only saved many lives, but you are helping my people open their eyes about the worth of females, just like Anton did about the worth of hybrids. For this, I can never thank you enough,” I said, with genuine gratitude.
“It will be a slow process,” she said. “I wish Guldar’s Emperor would be as open-minded as you. I know what great challenges you face with these changes, and I respect you all the more for it. You’re a good man.”
I snorted, wondering how much of that respect would remain in a few minutes.
“No, Ravena. I’m a lot of things, but not a good man. I have allowed and done terrible things. The kind of things that haunt you forever and can never be undone.” I rubbed my face with both hands, wishing I could draw Ravena into my arms and bury my face in her hair instead, in search of comfort. “Yes, I am making much needed changes. Sadly, they come way too late for far too many innocents,” I said, the familiar pain of Lissy’s death crushing my heart.
“Innocents like Lissy?” Ravena asked in a soft voice.
My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach dropped. Did she already know? My eyes flicked between hers, trying to assess what she knew.
“You dedicated your final blow to her,” Ravena explained. “Who was she? And who are the Fifteen?”
Sorrow, shame, and fear of the contempt I would undoubtedly read in her eyes once I’d confessed, twisted me inside. Taking in a deep breath, I took the plunge.
“Thirty-eight years ago, for my twelfth birthday, my father gave me a human slave. She was a beautiful wisp of a girl, a fourteen-year-old named Lissy.” Even after all these years, her delicate face still appeared clearly in my mind’s eyes with her pointy chin, high cheekbones, heart-shaped lips and big, blue, doll eyes. “I had become sexually active a few months prior, and Father considered it a rite of passage to deflower a human female.”
It was more than a rite of passage. Virgins were hard to come by. Beautiful human virgins even harder. Wealthy clans paid high prices to get willing young females for their sons to bed. It became a sign of status. Between the ages of eleven and fourteen, a Braxian male’s girth was still small enough for a human woman to handle with reasonable ease. By fifteen, coupling with a human usually resulted in serious tearing without Denax. However, frequent and excessive use of the dilator endangered the woman’s health.
“Within a year, I committed the unforgivable. Not content to fall in love with a slave, I also impregnated her with a male.” My chest ached reminiscing about the way she’d fearfully revealed her pregnancy to me. I’d been both excited and terrified of what that would mean for us. “As you may have found out from Anton, under my father’s rule, Braxian law decreed that half-breeds were abominations to be eradicated lest they taint Braxian bloodlines. An exception was made for females who would then be used as clan whores. But, in defiance of that law, I allowed my son to live and kept him a secret for fifteen months.”
Ravena’s hands tightened around her braid, her gaze penetrating, and her shoulders tensing.
“Your father discovered his existence,” she said, when the silence stretched.
“Yes,” I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “While he lived, my father, Magnar Sigmer, had been a zealot and a bigot. For his own son, the
future ruler of Braxia, to taint our bloodline, the purest on our home world, and with a slave no less…”
“He must have completely lost it,” Ravena said, her eyes filling with compassion.
I snorted. “That’s quite the understatement. It had been foolish of us—of me—to think this could go on forever. A human snitched on us. The Narinda colony’s ambassador came to discuss possible trade agreements.” My lips stretched in a sneer, my hatred for the human still burning bright. “He knew Braxian protocols. When Lissy refused him, he complained to my father who had guards escort him to her quarters. If she refused him again, they would hold her down for him and then punish her. Apparently, she was breastfeeding our son when they barged in.”
Ravena shifted in her seat, no doubt imagining the barely seventeen-year-old girl that my Lissy had been at the time, watching in horror as the guards dragged our child away. Variations of that image still haunted me.
“That bastard never got to fuck her. The guards finding her with a hybrid superseded any courtesy to a foreign guest,” I said bitterly. “After realizing the consequences of his lust, the coward left Braxia behind him along with the irreparable damage of his actions. He must have known I would come after him because he broke all contact between our peoples.”
The Ancestors knew I had sought opportunities to cross paths with him, but he’d always managed to avoid any place where I might show up. He eventually met his untimely demise thanks to a misfired arrow during a hunting trip, courtesy of a mercenary hired by yours truly.
“My father recalled me early from the training camp where I’d been. I naively thought he had summoned me as a reward for the distinctions I’d earned during combat training.” A sad chuckle escaped my lips thinking back on the foolish boy I’d been. “The guards directed me to the courtyard where he awaited me. When I saw over a dozen juveniles from Elder Clans gathered there, I thought they came to celebrate me.”
Ravena shuddered, her obsidian eyes riveted on me as she listened with morbid fascination. I gazed upon her beautiful face as if to memorize the way she looked before contempt for me filled her eyes. I didn’t want to speak anymore, but I’d already gone too far. If we were to have any chance of a future together, this truth, however horrible, needed to come out.