Beth and the Barbarian

by Honey Phillips

  “Now, lean against my legs like an obedient pet. It is time for the matches to begin.” Kievan’s voice interrupted her and drove any thought of pink stones out of her mind. Huddling close, she peered down into the empty ring below. Her heart stopped as Dragar emerged from a tunnel at one side of the ring. He was clad in his leather loincloth but it was topped with a heavy metal belt. His knives hung at either hip but the rest of his skin was bare, shimmering in the bright lights of the arena. Every corded muscle stood out and the scars etching his body just added to the impression of strength and danger. The crowd let out a roar.

  “Round One. The Barbarian against The Whip.”

  “The Barbarian?” Beth couldn’t help the outraged question.

  Kievan laughed. “It was his choice. He never wanted to fight under his own name.”

  The reminder that he had done this before, that he had been Outcast, caused a lump in Beth’s throat. She hated to think of him here and yet, he had survived. He had found a way to live with what had happened. She glanced back at Kievan and found him watching her.

  “Thank you for helping him before.”

  Surprise flickered across his face for a second before he assumed his usual mocking mask. He shrugged. “He made me a lot of credits.”

  She dipped her head, acknowledging the words but still convinced that there had been more to it than that.

  Another roar from the crowd drew her attention. Dragar’s opponent had entered the arena. She hadn’t seen this species before. His skin was a dark oily green, almost featureless under the harsh lights. He was tall, although not as tall as Dragar, and much thinner. She started to relax and then the alien extended his arms. The reason he was called The Whip was sickeningly clear. Each arm ended in long tentacle that cut through the air with uncanny precision. She could hear the crack as he lifted them high and then whipped them down.

  “Begin.” Her hands curled into fists as the announcer’s deep voice echoed through the chamber.

  The two men circled each other, Dragar moving with his usual predatory grace. A tentacle flicked out and Beth fought back a cry as a line of blood appeared across Dragar’s arm. The crowd cheered, excited by the sight of blood. She could feel the rising blood lust but it was still muted enough by the Bliss stone that it didn’t overwhelm her.

  A tentacle whipped out again but this time Dragar darted to one side and his knife flashed. The tentacled alien roared and Beth saw green blood spurt from the injured limb. Sickness rose in her stomach but she kept still, refusing to look away. The battle continued. More cuts appeared on Dragar’s arms and legs but the alien was also dripping green blood across the white sand. With a lightning fast movement, Dragar closed in, slipping between the outstretched tentacles. The alien jerked back but it was too late—Dragar’s knife was buried in his throat.

  The crowd erupted in an explosion of noise and Beth sank back on her heels, trying to still her racing pulse. Dragar stepped back from the dead man. His chest heaved but his stance was poised and firm. He looked up and their eyes met. Beth was burning conscious of her position at Kievan’s feet. She would have pulled away but his hand clamped down on her shoulder before she could move.

  “Behave, pet, or you will have to leave,” he whispered in her ear. Even across the distance that separated them, she could see Dragar’s eyes whiten as he watched the scenario. She forced a trembling smile to her lips and bowed her head, hoping that Dragar understood. When she looked back up, he had turned away, moving to the entrance of the tunnel as servants removed the dead body and raked the sand clean.

  The second bout was worse. Dragar’s opponent, The Boulder, was massive. He was taller and broader than Dragar, moving with the heavy force of an avalanche. Each time his fist connected, Dragar flew back against the wall. Fortunately, Dragar was much faster so the powerful fists didn’t connect that often, but Beth could see the damage they inflicted. It was impossible to hear over the roar of the crowd but she thought she heard a rib crack when the massive alien pummeled Dragar’s side. He never touched him again. The man thundered forward, trying to take advantage of the hit, and Dragar leaped, using the other man’s momentum to propel himself upward and on to the alien’s back. His knife rose and fell and the mountainous alien collapsed.

  The crowd went silent for a brief second, as stunned as Beth, and then erupted again.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “He severed his spine.” Kievan laughed softly. “I suspected he was just playing with him.”

  “Playing with him? Is he insane?”

  “He’s a Sardoran warrior, pet. This is what we…what they do.”

  She stared at him in shocked disbelief and then whirled back to the arena. Once more, Dragar stood looking up at her. His face was drawn and she could see the scars standing out against his skin but his stance was still strong. He gave her a quick nod before returning to the tunnel.

  The wait was longer this time and it required six servants to drag the body of the enormous alien from the arena. Excitement buzzed through the air and she could feel an odd frenzy pushing at her. Kievan’s legs were tense against her back.

  The third match was announced. Dragar’s opponent was named Shock. Beth leaned forward, curious about the last fighter. She relaxed a little as a slender blue alien appeared. He was wearing a silver suit and wasn’t much taller than she was. Dragar eyed him across the arena and for the first time, she could see caution in the way he held his body.

  “Who’s that?” She whispered to Kievan, her relaxation turning to dread.

  “Something we have never faced before.” His voice was grim, but she didn’t dare to tear her eyes away from the scene below to look at his face. The two men were still circling each other and the crowd was chanting. The blue alien suddenly leapt into the air and flung his hand at Dragar. A bolt of energy flew from his fingertips and hit Dragar’s leg. He staggered, almost going to his knees. Beth’s heart pounded against her chest.

  “How can he fight that?”

  “He’ll find a way.” She wasn’t sure if Kievan was trying to convince her or himself. Shock leapt again and another bolt of energy seared across the sand. Dragar avoided it, but only barely. He advanced toward the blue alien but his opponent was as fast as he was and slipped away. They continued to circle each other and twice the alien managed to zap him. The first time he hit his left shoulder and as they resumed the circle, Beth realized with a sinking heart that Dragar’s left arm was hanging at his side. The next time, Shock hit his leg again and this time he went down. With a high-pitched screech, the blue alien closed in but Dragar managed to roll away after slicing a long bloody streak down his opponent’s arm.

  Still crouched on the ground, Dragar’s left arm was tucked into his stomach. Tears spilled down Beth’s cheeks but she couldn’t look away. He had to survive this fight; he had to come back to her. Shock came closer to her fallen warrior, launching two more bolts as he advanced. Each time, Dragar evaded the blasts by a tiny fraction. The alien drew back his hand a third time. A bright flash filled the arena, along with a keening cry. Blinded by the light, Beth blinked at the sands, trying to force her eyes to focus.

  The blue alien was crumpled on the ground, Dragar’s still body next to him. Her heart stopped beating, every inch of her focused on the motionless figure far below. Dragar’s hand finally moved, followed by his leg and then he was pushing himself erect, his hand clenching a piece of blackened metal.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered.

  “The belt. He used the metal belt to return the energy and overload the Oephosi’s system. Goddess, I could make millions with him.”

  “Millions?” Rage coursed through Beth’s veins but it was abruptly forgotten as Dragar lifted his head toward their box. He moved slowly, but he was moving—alive. Her eyes filled with tears but she kept her gaze on his face. She raised her hand and placed it over her shoulder, feeling the clan mark on her back as she bowed her head. When she looked up, his eyes were blazing si
lver. He repeated her gesture and then turned to the tunnel, limping but upright.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Beth sagged on her cushion, elation and fear fighting for dominance. He had won but he was hurt.

  “I have to go to him,” she demanded.

  Kievan’s muscles were still tense and his voice was hard. “I should be very angry with you for that affecting little display. The only reason I don’t take you over my knee and beat you is because there aren’t any other Sardorans in the crowd.”

  “Why are you so angry?”

  “Because a Sardoran would have understood the bond between you—which would make you an obvious target for anyone out to hurt Dragar. It also calls my neutrality into effect and makes your appearance at my feet suspect.”

  “I’m sorry. I just wanted him to know how I felt. Please let me go to him now.”

  Kievan sighed and released his anger. “Very well, my pet. Although I assure you he would prefer to recover first.”

  “I don’t care. Take me to him.” She had to see him, to examine his wounds, to know that he was all right.

  J’Ssett appeared in the entrance to the balcony.

  “I was just sending for—”

  Before Kievan could finish, J’Ssett approached and leaned over to whisper in his ear. Kievan swore long and fluently. Bending quickly, he wrapped Beth’s cloak around her shoulders. She started to get up but he pressed her back down. “Stay here at my feet.”

  She started to protest but his voice turned hard. “If you ever want to see your mate again, stay here at my feet. Keep your head bowed. Don’t react to anything I say. Do you understand?”

  Frightened by his urgency, she nodded. His head tilted at a sound she couldn’t hear. He forced her head down and she huddled against his legs as he sprawled back in his chair, looking totally relaxed. J’Ssett slipped quietly behind a curtain.

  From the corner of her eye, Beth saw three men enter the balcony. The first was tall and slender, with red skin and dark hair. Even with her limited view, she could see small black horns curling from his forehead. The resemblance to Earth images of the devil was unmistakable and she had to control a shudder, pressing closer to the warmth of Kievan’s legs. The man was dressed in a tunic and pants of a rich crimson and black brocade that swirled hypnotically. The two men behind him were large and solid, concealed head to foot in armor. The armor was solid matte black except for a red crest on each pectoral plate.

  “Kievan Rus,” the first man said. His voice was smooth, but Beth had to conceal another shudder as she felt the cold rolling off of him. Unlike Kievan’s crystalline ice, this man felt like a barren wasteland, endlessly bare and freezing, but overlaid with a sadistic cruelty that made her skin crawl.

  “Your Highness. An unexpected pleasure. To what do we owe this honor?” Kievan sounded the same as always, cold and slightly mocking, but she could feel the tension in the muscles of his legs.

  The man shrugged. “We stopped for supplies and I decided to sample your…entertainment.”

  “I hope you found it satisfactory.”

  “Quite.” The man paced to the edge of the balcony, staring down at the empty sands. “The last fighter was quite impressive.” Her palms dampened as she realized that he was talking about Dragar.

  Kievan responded with his usual calm. “I have always thought so.”

  The man turned back toward them, leaning casually against the railing. “It occurs to me that my own stable has become somewhat limited. I wish to purchase him.”

  “Unfortunately, he’s not a permanent part of my stable. He’s working off a debt.” Kievan reached down and stroked Beth’s hair as he spoke.

  The man straightened and his two guards moved closer. “That’s not really my concern. Most things are available—for the right price.”

  Kievan’s hand moved to her shoulder.

  “Of course, your highness. I assume you realize that the right price would be quite high?”

  Could he really be considering this? Beth jerked but Kievan’s hand clamped down. Unfortunately, the slight movement attracted the man’s attention.

  “A new pet?”

  “Yes. I’m still training her.” Kievan pulled her up into his lap, keeping the cloak around her, and fastened a possessive hand over her breast.

  “Hmm.” Beth could feel the man watching her and she forced herself to stay calm in Kievan’s hold. “Look at me, pet.” His voice was demanding and she had to fight the sudden urge to turn to him. What the hell was wrong with her? She managed to keep her eyes down. The man shrugged lightly when she didn’t respond. “Perhaps we can do more business when you are through with the training.”

  Kievan nodded. “We’ll see if she turns out to be worthy of your attention. But I believe we were discussing price?”

  “I have…friends who could arrange for a supply of Bliss stones. There would be a percentage due on each shipment but any remaining profit would be yours.”

  “How large a supply?”

  “Fifteen per cycle.”

  “Twenty-five.”

  The man shook his head and his eyes narrowed. “You’re really not in a position to negotiate, are you? It would be unfortunate if anything happened to this delightful little enterprise you have here.”

  Kievan laughed but she could feel his rage beating at her. “Very unfortunate.”

  “Good. We understand each other. Have him at my ship within the hour.” The man hesitated, and Beth could feel his eyes on her again. “Send word when she is trained.”

  The three men left and Beth immediately started struggling against Kievan. He didn’t have Dragar’s massive bulk but he held her just as easily.

  “Hush. I’m thinking.” He stared at the empty arena, frowning

  “You can’t sell him to that man.”

  “Actually, I could.” His eyes turned cold as he looked down at her sprawled across his lap. Beth was burningly aware of his hand on her breast. He stroked his thumb across the peak and she felt her nipple tighten in response.

  “Damn you, stop that.”

  He laughed, but it wasn’t an amused laugh. “It would be very easy to sell Dragar to Prince Ustrod. It would make me a lot of money. And I’m rather tempted by the idea of keeping you.” He pinched her hardened nipple. She couldn’t help shivering. “You’re a responsive little thing.”

  “I don’t want you. I want Dragar.” Tears gathered in her eyes. “I would hate you.”

  His voice hardened. “Is that supposed to deter me? Your feelings are of no consequence to me.”

  A tear slipped free and rolled down her cheek. Kievan’s mouth tightened. He squeezed her breast firmly with his long, strong fingers before he dropped his mouth over hers. Remembering Dragar’s reaction to her struggles, Beth didn’t pull away but she forced her body to remain limp and unresponsive.

  He lifted his head and something glinted in his eyes. “I could make you submit to me. I might not even have to use the Bliss stones.”

  The memory of her unwilling arousal made her shiver. How long could she hold out against that?

  “And then what? Give me to Prince Ustrod?” she said defiantly, but she could hear her voice shaking.

  Kievan frowned and shook his head. “It would be a shame to go to all that work and then have to pass you over to his highness.” He stood up, holding her against him for a second before placing her firmly but gently on her feet. “Come.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “If I’m going to get the two of you off my station before the Prince comes looking, we need to move quickly.”

  She gaped at him, stunned by his sudden capitulation, but he had already turned away. J’Ssett appeared and Kievan issued hasty instructions on getting Dragar to the ship. The small alien nodded, his face as imperturbable as ever, but Beth could see his hand tremble slightly as he raised it to his ear and started tapping out his communication.

  Leaving J’Ssett on the balcony, Kievan tugged her behind one of the c
urtains and pressed a hidden switch. A door opened in the paneling, revealing a tiny chamber.

  “Come on.” He tugged again.

  “In there?” She stared at the dark opening.

  “Unless you would rather stay here?” He was back to his usual mocking self.

  Biting her lip, she stepped inside. He followed immediately. The small circular room was so tiny that she was pressed against him. He put an arm around her waist but she didn’t have room to pull away.

  “Hold on.” The bottom dropped out of the room and they plummeted downward. Beth gasped and grabbed hold of Kievan with both hands. She could feel him chuckle and his arms tightened around her. Plastered against his body, she could also feel a definite erection and she prayed that he was really going to release them. The downward pace suddenly slowed and they hit bottom with only a minor thud. They stood in the darkness for a brief second, bodies still pressed together, and she heard him sigh.

  “I’m going to regret this.” She thought as she felt his lips brush her hair, and then the door opened. They were in one of the dingy corridors close to the docking bay. Kievan released her waist but grabbed her hand and strode rapidly down the deserted corridor. She struggled to keep up with him.

  By the time he led her into the dock where their ship was parked, she was breathless. The bay, too, was deserted. Before she could panic, the door opened again and Dragar appeared. He was still covered in blood but he was walking. She tried to go to him but Kievan still had hold of her hand. Dragar’s eyes whitened and he growled, “Let go of her.”

  Kievan held her a moment longer as Dragar prowled toward them but finally released her. As soon as he did, she threw herself against Dragar’s broad chest. His strong arms closed round her and he gave her a hard, possessive kiss. He froze suddenly and sniffed. When he raised his head, his eyes were paling.

  “What did you do?” He glared at Kievan.

  “Nothing.” Kievan shrugged but his body was poised and ready. “Prince Ustrod paid me a visit.”