“Have my knife, warrior. If it makes you feel any better.” The blur of movement arcing through the space between them shocked Kelskar to his feet. A knife the length of a man’s forearm thudded point down a short length from his boot. A low hum as it quivered back and forth.
Good, the stranger was good. Within easy snatching distance, Kelskar ignored the blade and considered disarming Janie so he could take some much needed water instead of standing here measuring cocks with this intruder.
“Your woman speaks the truth. That meat called to me. I have no argument with either of you.”
The man’s threadbare coat, the pants worn to rags at the knee spoke of hard times and hid something infinitely more dangerous. If the knife had not been demonstration enough, the deceptively casual stance, the small curl to the fingers, the lazy narrowing of the eyes told it all. Kelskar fastened his own coat, his brain warning of past treachery presented on friendly faces. His skill at reading others failed him when he needed it most. The plot to kill the princess was a conspiracy so outrageous no man would have foreseen the king authorising the termination of his own daughter.
“Can’t help you, friend.” He returned the intruder’s greeting, setting them on equal terms. “But you’re welcome to share our meat. Sit down before my woman changes her mind and spears you where you stand. She has a temper, when she puts her mind to it.”
Janie’s shoulders tensed, her lips set in a grim line. Did she think him patronising her? Did she not recognise the danger?
“A fearsome thing, a woman with a sword.” With one finger, the man diverted the blade from his neck and sank to the ground, cross-legged. Deliberately putting himself at further disadvantage. Not only good, but likely to be one of the best. That kind of confidence came only from knowing one’s exact limits and a willingness to take them right to the edge.
A killer who planned his strategy with painstaking care. The most dangerous kind.
Janie’s arm trembled holding the sword. Kelskar let her keep it. He should not berate her naivety. How was a baker of sublime confections to know the ways of a seasoned killer? He lowered himself to the damp forest floor, grateful to be off his feet with the giddy buzzing in his head. The greatsword hit the ground, tip down. Dailam eyed the meat with a lover’s gaze.
“I’ve awoken with a mighty thirst on me,” Kelskar said. “Pass me the water, would you?”
He scanned the forest for Laeesha’s tall frame. Listened for the babe’s cry. The runaway had her own reasons, her own agendas. Dailam might shed more light on them.
“Of course.” Janie lowered herself, feeling for the water can, brows raised in question. He returned a tight smile and quaffed the can of water in one long gulp. No way to reassure her that the chip remained dormant. This intruder saw far too much.
Wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand, he caught Dailam eyeing the paste adorning his head and face.
Janie finally set down the sword, flexing her fingers and turning her attention to the meat. Who taught her that grip? Yesterday she managed only a novice hold. Today the classic Colivare Reverse hold made famous by the long dead master sword-smith of Vasivar 5.
It could only have been Dailam. The man had balls bigger than the moons of Altavar. Kelskar yanked Dailam’s knife from the forest floor, weighing the weapon in his hand. Nicely balanced, sharp and honed. Intricate scroll work adorning the hilt. Had he too been given a choice of weapons that he might provide entertainment for the masses?
What did it tell him of the man, that he would hand such a precious item to a stranger? Likely he carried more, concealed on his person. This knife was a peace offering that spoke louder than any words.
“I found the knife in one of the temples. A veritable trove of treasure for those brave enough to enter.” Dailam rested an elbow on one bent knee. “Me? Never been the superstitious type. I keep a healthy respect for the Draegon and all creatures twenty times my size and I take only what I need. It’s those who go looking for trouble likely to find it.”
Kelskar speared the fallen meat on the knife, lifting it onto the flat stone. The deepening dark told him they approached the middle night hours when day creatures fell silent and slept and night creatures crept from their shelters to hunt and feed. Janie sat close, tense and quiet now he appeared in full command of his senses. If she allowed him to do the talking they might yet discover this stranger’s true motives.
She took the meat slice, offered on the tip of the knife, hooking it with her own short blade. Dailam waited, showing no surprise at his serving a woman before a guest.
“Help yourself. And tell us, friend. What put you here?”
Dailam shrugged, flicking his gaze briefly to Janie as if they shared some secret. “As I told your woman, I killed one wrong person too many.”
Kelskar tore a chunk for himself, impressed by Dailam’s restraint. Hunger lurked in the appreciative flare of the man’s eyes and yet he made no move for the food. All part of the discipline required for his trade. Not a soldier or common murderer, something infinitely more refined.
“He’s an assassin. Or should I say, was, an assassin.” Janie corrected herself, holding Dailam’s gaze.
“I know.” Kelskar chewed, letting the words hang casually between them.
“A job with very few long-term prospects.” Dailam picked off a thin sliver of meat, inspecting it, a wry amusement glinting in his fire-lit eyes. “So, your lady poisoned someone with her cupcakes. What did you do to land here, warrior?”
Did Janie tell him that? She was shaking her head, lips twitching. Humans as a species managed to find amusement in the strangest of places.
“Eat, you look hungry.” Dailam wouldn’t expect an answer and if he did, well let him wonder. Let them all wonder. Only a respite this lull, this lack of real challenge. When it all kicked off and the Corporation called in their debt, the unknown quantity stood best placed for victory. A position Kelskar fully intended to take.
Dailam pressed him no further. He tore off a fist-sized chunk of meat and set about devouring it with gusto. Janie chewed without enthusiasm, putting only a few small pieces into her mouth and on a high branch, a night bird warbled low in its throat, the sombre sound settling over the small camp like a shroud.
Had she noticed the changing tint to the man’s skin? Did she know what that meant? He thought not.
“I’m glad it stopped raining.” Janie looked out into the forest night, pensive, shoulders drooping. Thinking of her lost home?
“It will hold off until morning, now.” Dailam licked the grease from his fingers, tipping back his head to seek out the warbling night bird. “Farak you harbinger,” he muttered. “Go foretell someone else’s death.”
“That’s what they say about owls on my world, Janie said. “We used to have one sing outside the tea room at dusk. Good thing I’m not superstitious either.”
“Still, mind you beware of dragons and wyverns, pretty lady. The first have no love left for the intruders of this world. Word is one was seen flying over the Perilar plane. Likely just an overdose of hallucinogenic fungi making a man see things, but better safe than burnt to a crisp because they don’t care who the good men are.”
“And you’re one of the good men?”
“Sure I am.” Dailam licked the remaining grease from his fingers. Patted his stomach in appreciation of food generously given. Janie’s expression cycled through hope to a cynical tightening of her lips.
“Yes, sure you are. What’s a wyvern?”
“A dragon that walks on two legs, though you’ll see them mostly in humanoid form. Traitors to their species who turned coat and now work as enforcers for the Corporation.”
“Dragon shifters? Seriously?” Janie shook her head and took another bite of meat.
Kelskar let the conversation wash over him, listening for unspoken detail, his energy levels lifting with the water and food. Since they would never know his true motives, Dailam may have die.
And he wouldn’t
go easily.
“What did you say your man’s name was again?”
“I didn’t. Is the woman your wife? The baby, your child?”
“You need to tell me where she is, little lady.” An edge of steel replaced the playful banter. “For her own safety, I need to find her first.”
“Why?” Kelskar mentally measured the distance between the three of them. Dailam’s long knife lay within easy reach. The man would go for his boot, the back of his belt or his sleeve for concealed weapons. He’d already demonstrated his speed.
“You don’t trust me, warrior. Why should I trust you with that knowledge?”
“No reason at all. But I need to know why you seek this woman and child.”
“I let your woman here live, when she could easily now be lying dead in the forest while you snored. I gave you a knife to kill me with. What more proof of my sincerity do you need?” The steel turned to ice. A man preparing to kill without mercy or remorse.
“If you wish to continue breathing, assassin, you would do well to start talking.”
Janie hissed in an audible breath at the open challenge. The night bird ceased its warbling portents, done with its message of impending death. Janie thought she knew the man she claimed to love? She knew nothing of the dark stains on his soul.
“I rather like breathing,” Dailam said with a negligent shrug. Not about to engage, then, even faced with a weakened opponent.
“The woman’s a healer, so she’s valuable goods. The child is, let’s say, an inconvenience to some. Female offspring are useful for pimping and barter. Males for labour and dynasty. More often they grow to challenge and kill their forebears. Better to be rid of them at birth.”
“And you naturally wish to save her from all that?”
“Like all females she’s headstrong and believes she knows better. Crastinus gods alive, she’s led me a chase over three mountains and two forests all the while running into more danger. Did you kill the Galashi? I found the bodies further up the mountain. Don’t bother with denial, your woman gives everything away.”
“That’s not true.” Janie’s head swivelled around, eyes blazing. She went for the sword. Dailam’s right hand twitched. Dark gods, no. Kelskar remembered he could move like lightning itself when called upon. Their hands hit the hilt together, Janie’s underneath, his covering hers. A brief struggle and she let it go with a quiet huff.
“I see you have the same problem.” Dailam spread his fingers, holding them away from his body to show his intent not to spear her or slice her throat. In Kelskar’s old life it had been normal procedure to fully disarm a man before inviting him to sit down to dinner. Normal rules no longer applied.
“I salute my woman’s bravery.” But not her desire to get herself killed, Kelskar thought, easing the sword from Janie’s slack fingers. Every twitch, every glance, told Dailam exactly what he needed to hear. She couldn’t know or help her reactions to the assassin’s provocative probing. The greatest of diplomats might have fallen foul to such an expert.
“More will come,” Dailam said, rising in one fluid movement. “And they will have her and the child if I don’t get to her first.”
Facing him man to man, the long sword between them, Kelskar weighed the words and heard some truth in them. “You might have saved her and yet this woman still ran from you? Why, I wonder?”
Laeesha healed him. No matter that this man might speak the truth, they could not betray her.
“Because she’s a woman and they don’t have one rational thought in their beautiful heads. I’m leaving now or she’ll outpace me. You can try to stop me and we can fight, or you can bid me Godspeed. Your choice.”
“I have no argument with you, friend.” Too unequal a match in this healing state. Too big a risk.
Dailam inclined his head. “Your honour elevates you, but protecting her from me does her no favours.” He paused to rub off the dried leaves clinging to his pants. Winked at Janie with the audacity of a court jester. “I really am one of the good men, believe me.”
“You’re an assassin.”
“Pretty lady, that doesn’t make me bad. Let me give you both a warning, as a thank you for dinner. Don’t get too comfortable. If you’re new, you’ll be featured. If a man looks like you, you’ll be expected to fight. If you hold a woman like her, they’ll take her and you’ll fight to get her back. That’s how this place works.”
“No one will take her from me.” The grim warning earned Kelskar a pitying smile.
“They all say that. They’ll take her and nothing you can do to stop them. It’s not all bad news, you might win. But then you might lose. Innocent women are high value tickets. Sure, we get the female head-bangers and murderers sent here, but they’re way too much trouble to tame. Even the hardest of men crave a little sweetness in their miserable lives. And your lady is sweetness itself. You’ll both already be on the schedules. If you get through the ordeals and new fodder arrives, maybe they’ll lose interest. Let you eke out a life here and leave you alone.”
“Then I will fight and win every challenge.”
“Do that and your view ratings will only rise. The only reason we’re not dogged by cameras now is that I’ve a mean slingshot arm and I know exactly where to hit to take them out. The irony my friend is that in winning, the masses will clamour for more and you will get no peace.”
“Godspeed, friend.” Kelskar had heard enough. Nothing he didn’t already know and already the gladiator in him swelled and rose to the impending challenge. The name Kelskar, roared by a frenzied crowd urging him to maim and kill. He’d do it all again for Janie. Would that the assassin had divulged this information privately, man to man and not in front of her.
She’d been brutalised enough by all of this.
Dailam dipped in a perfect court bow, his tied-back hair falling forward over one shoulder. Kelskar, head of royal security would have hired such a man. Made use of him in ways Janie would never understand.
Dailam gave them his back, further proof they might trust the man. Twisting his head, he glanced over one shoulder. “I’m intrigued, pretty lady. What’s a cupcake?”
“It’s my secret weapon, Dailam. That’s what it is.”
Kelskar’s fingers drifted over Janie’s hair. His heart did a curious little dance in his chest. Perfect indeed that sweetness teasing his tongue, the taste so sublime it changed everything. Such conviction in her voice. Now she had the two of them in thrall, salivating over her very words.
“Powerful things, cupcakes,” she said and leaned deliberately into Kelskar’s hand. “I’ll leave you men to fight with swords. We women have far more potent weapons.”
“Keep the knife. You can return it when next we meet. Pray gods that will be in Paradise.”
Dailam swaggered into the night, becoming one with the forest. The best chance for Laeesha and the babe’s survival? Kelskar could only hope and bid them all a silent Godspeed.
No sound of retreating footfall, no shrieking animals or birds disturbed by the sudden appearance of a man in the dark of night. But for the soft, drifting laughter on the wind, Dailam might never have existed.
“Paradise?” Janie blinked at the empty space that still hummed with Dailam’s energy. “That was Laeesha’s parting shot. Are they trying to tell us something?”
“It’s a very old saying. Akin to wishing a person hope. But perhaps they were.”
“Oh. How are you feeling, Kelskar? Tell me the chip is truly dead.”
“The clanging in my head is down to a single bell. The fire in the wounds burning low. That may indicate a healing. Time will tell.”
“You had clanging in your head and didn’t tell me?” A gentle reproach. Janie’s voice faded to a low murmur, too weary to admonish him further.
“Did we do the right thing, keeping quiet about Laeesha?”
“He knows we saw her. And that trust is a hard won thing. He’ll find her. Whether that’s good or bad, I have no idea.”
“I hope it�
��s good, and what did he mean about fighting? Will this nightmare never end?” Janie sagged against his thigh. Past fear, he heard only acceptance and resignation.
“We both know why we’re here.” He hunkered down beside her, circling her with his arms. Paid no heed to the renewed ache of his chest wounds as she gave him her weight. His cock stiffened with inappropriate lust. A possessive need to mark her as his and keep on marking her so that when the challenge came, his adversaries would know without doubt to whom she belonged.
“I want you, Janie.” He kissed her nose, her cheeks. The curve of her neck. “The safest time to fuck is right after the danger. Fuck. I like this word. May I fuck you, Janie? Will you lie with me, despite the danger?”
She pulled him down, greedy for his mouth, fumbling over the coat fastenings. “I’d lie with you with all the dragons of hell flying circles overhead. Sod the danger. Let them come.”
“I made rules in that cage.” Kelskar’s coat dropped to the ground in a rustling heap. “Rules to keep us alive on this moon. You make me want to break every one of them, Janie Roberts.”
“When you look like that, I want you to.” Light fingers at his shoulders, mindful of his chest wounds. He stretched out on the fallen coat, taking her with him. Shifting her beneath him so his back lay vulnerable to the night, not hers.
“This is foolish, but I can’t stop. I want you too much.”
In the shade of the great root, her face was a well of shadow, unreadable. Her body beneath him soft and inviting, waiting for him to stop thinking and take her.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “Don’t stop.”
Chapter Fourteen
Lying beneath his solid body, a safe cage of muscle and bone, Janie’s head fought a losing battle with her heart. Foolish beyond measure to be doing this in the open with roaming beasts and deranged felons on the loose.
She too had made her rules. Stay alert. Don’t give in to tears. Do nothing to risk a pregnancy. And here she was breaking all three at once with the naked man braced above her.
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