All Worlds: Fantasy And Science Fiction Series Starters

by Vangjel Canga

  “What?” Virago asked as she squeezed Flaxen’s hand. “What is it?”

  She turned to the princess and told her, “I believe the High Guard has requested a kiss.”

  “A kiss?” Puzzled that a man would request such a thing from another man, Virago made a face and then questioned, “Edward has denied him, yes?”

  Flaxen leaned closer to the tent and then replied, “Not yet; they are still discussing this.”

  Inside the tent...

  “No,” Edward told Pluck as he straightened. “I would do anything to save my wife, so I shall bestow upon you the Kiss and to answer your other question, no I have never given it away.”

  She was relieved there was still a chance, but Pluck feared he would betray her so she told him, “Swear it as Prince of Fletching and soon to be Emperor of the Five Kingdoms.”

  Edward paused and then he said, “I swear. Now please, be our champion.”

  Pluck couldn’t bring herself to trust him, so she asked him, “You’ll protect me when the others find out what I am?”

  “Yes, yes,” he insisted. “Now please be our champion?”

  Outside...

  “I am afraid, my lady, that the prince has sworn to give the Northern High Guard the Kiss if he wins,” Flaxen stated and then she bit her lip, knowing the princess wouldn’t respond kindly.

  “That is not right,” Virago exclaimed in a quiet tone. “I thought I had married...” She rubbed her temples as she said, “Wait till my father hears about this.”

  “Come, my lady,” Flaxen told her as she peeked over the crates. “Several High Guards are moving this way.”

  Virago sighed and then stated, “My kingdom for a straight man.”

  Inside the tent...

  Pluck hesitated, trusting Edward. Han squeezed her hand, and she looked down at him.

  Han strained to talk as he asked her, “Who raised you and trained you like you were my son?”

  “You did Han,” Pluck answered as she knelt beside him.

  Jealousy rose in Ardor. He was Han's Second, so he should be the one at his side.

  Han continued, “Then do this for me.” He looked into her face and said, “Swear to me you shall be our champion.” He squeezed her arm as Pluck wavered out of fear and he told her, “Swear it child.”

  “I swear it Han. I swear,” she said as tears streamed down her face. Pluck was unable to bear seeing him in pain and without a healer, there was nothing anyone could do, not even to ease his suffering. She pleaded, “Don’t leave me.”

  “I’m sorry, but I cannot promise,” Han told her and then heaved a great sigh. “Already my body is growing cold.”

  “No!” Pluck screamed as she couldn’t hold back her emotions and then she cried, “No, don’t die. Don’t leave me alone. You are all I have left.” She gently laid her head on his shoulder.

  “Stand up, soldier!” Ardor commanded as he couldn’t watch this ridiculous scene play out any longer. “This is no way for you to act.”

  Ardor grabbed Pluck and she turned as her eyes flashed green with anger in the darkness of her hood. Filled with rage, Pluck hissed at him like a cat.

  Frightened by what he saw and heard, Ardor stepped back as he uttered, “Crell! What are you?!”

  “Pluck... Ardor...” Han yelled as he chastised them, then he shivered, and continued, “This is no way for either of you to behave. Now Pluck, it is time. Let me once more see you as you are.” He smiled as he told her, “For soon you shall be whole again.”

  She stood, glanced at Ardor and Melee, and then she requested, “Please, send the others away.”

  “No, they shall soon know,” Han told her and smiled again to reassure her. “Let them see.”

  Pluck shrunk, nervous and apprehensive of how they would react. No one besides Han, Fairah, and Edward had seen her beastly form.

  “Go on, child. You are among friends,” Han said to coax her.

  For Han she did and Pluck lowered her hood, unclasped her cloak, and threw it on a nearby chair. She turned to Ardor and Melee, waiting for their reactions.

  Ardor stumbled back and shouted, “By Fletching!” His face tightened in terror, and he instinctively went for his rapier.

  “Stow that sword!” Han commanded.

  Ardor reluctantly sheathed his blade, realizing this was Pluck’s horrible secret. The Northern High Guard his rival was a beast and a frightful one at that with emerald eyes that pierced his soul, long white canines, a flowing fiery-crimson mane like a Fire Lion, and beige fur. Fur... He hated what he saw; this was no man, but a beast and an abomination that must be destroyed.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Match

  Pluck dared not breathe as Ardor drew his sword on her, and he started to attack her till Han stopped him. The tent closed in on her, trapping Pluck and she wanted to flee, but where could she go?

  Melee tilted his head. His reaction to Pluck was calmer than Han’s Second as he exclaimed, “He’s a woman.”

  “What do you mean woman?” Ardor yelled. “Don’t you see he’s... it’s a beast!” He paced the tent, gesturing angrily with his hands as he questioned, “How could you have kept this from me... your men? This...” He pointed to Pluck and said, “This abomination should never have been allowed to walk among us and yet it wears the High Guard insignia.” He punched one of the large wooden poles holding up the tent, and his knuckles reddened from the impact. “Fass! For all we know Pluck’s a Necrom.”

  She bowed her head ashamed. Ardor reacted as she imagined. He hated her with a passion.

  “He’s a woman,” Melee repeated still stunned.

  “That’s enough!” Han shouted as his face paled as he grew weaker, but he mustered the strength to glare at his Second and told him, “You know nothing.”

  “He is right,” Edward added in a gentler tone. “When we were children I angered a witch. She would have vexed me if Pluck had not pushed me out of the way and taken the curse. Could you imagine me ruling as the thing you see?”

  Edward’s words shocked Pluck. He also saw her as a monster; Edward must think her a horrible and ghastly thing to behold. No wonder he reacted as he did when she asked for the Kiss.

  The prince continued, “You must understand, she saved the Fletching Kingdom, and I owe her a great debt.”

  “And so do I,” Han added. “We the High Guards were not there to protect the prince, but Pluck a nine seasons old child was.” He shivered as he held his side, he glanced at the dark blood on his palm, and then he commanded, “I don’t want you to disrespect her again, am I clear?”

  Ardor’s rage faded. Perhaps he was wrong... He remembered the stories his grandfather told him of the time before the Five Kingdoms and how the Necroms nearly destroyed man. Ardor searched Pluck's face and its beastly guise, seeing only what he had been taught to despise; it was a Necrom. How could he forget? Ardor exploded with loathing as he yelled, “I’m not wrong! It's an abomination. Nothing you say or it does shall ever change my mind!” Desperate for Han to see what he already knew, Ardor knelt beside Han and told him, “You are my commander, and I would die for you, but you have done us all a great dishonor. It’s a mistake to have it here.” He stood and warned him, “Wait till the Morgogs find out, then you shall know hatred.” Ardor turned from Han and said, “I am ashamed; I am greatly ashamed you took this Beast and taught it the High Guard way. I cannot be in here any longer.” He stormed out, fearing he would spill blood if he stayed any longer.

  Pluck turned to Edward, fighting back tears as she asked him, “Are you sure you can protect me? Your own men are against me.”

  “Not all of us,” Melee spoke up as he stepped forward. “It does not matter who or what you are. You are a High Guard, one trained by Han, and that makes you my brother... er... sister.” He grabbed his hilt and swore to her, “You shall have my steel if you need it.”

  She told him, “Thank you, the others won’t be a
s kind.”

  The ground shook, and Melee went to the tent entrance and told them, “The Dreadgons are back.”

  Pluck turned to the prince and said to him, “I’ll be out soon. Could you give me a moment with Han?”

  Edward nodded and exited with Melee.

  She knelt at the commander’s side and started, “There's so much I want to tell you and yet I don’t know where to begin.” She wiped her runny panther nose and then continued, “You’ve been more than a mentor to me. You’ve been my father. I don’t want to fail you, and I don’t want to lose you. You’re all I have.”

  “Pluck, you must be strong. My life is near its end. Watch over Edward. Much danger lies ahead of him and please forgive Ardor. He feels betrayed but once he sees who you really are, he shall come around.” He gripped her arm as he warned her, “Watch out for the Morgogs. They can be treacherous.”

  Two High Guards walked in and waited by the entrance. They were shocked to see a Beast within, but they said nothing seeing that Han spoke with it.

  “It is time,” Han said. “Save our princess.”

  Pluck kissed him on the cheek, stood, grabbed her cloak from the chair, unclasped her High Guard pin from it, and attached the charging Black Elk to her shirt. Pluck smoothed her hand over it as she said out loud to give herself courage, “If nothing else, I am a High Guard.”

  She headed out, and the two soldiers gasped again, but didn’t say a word as she passed them. Her heart pounded as if it would burst through her chest. They knew a beast walked among them, and she could never take that back.

  * * *

  Edward walked from the tent to where the High Guards gathered. Parry, Sinew, Fracas, Bulwark, and Von where among them. Ardor stood off by himself; his face was red with anger and shame. Quip climbed a grouping of rocks to get a better view as Gar, Tusk, and the Dreadgons waited at the edge of the camp. Edward approached them with Melee.

  “Do you have a champion?” Gar asked.

  “Yes,” Edward answered. The whole ordeal troubled him since so much depended on Pluck. Could she save his wife? Could he manage to give her the Kiss once she won? She was a horrible sight to behold and he didn't know if... He couldn't worry about that now, first Pluck had to win. What would they do if she didn't? Avarice said he would make plans for their escape if Pluck failed, but Edward saw no such plans as he glanced around the camp. For Virago's sake, he hoped the plans were well hidden.

  “I, Gar, have selected a spot for our duel,” he stated, then motioned for the prince to follow, and Edward did as the Dreadgon walked to a grassy area not far from the camp. “This is where the match will take place.”

  Virago and Flaxen watched from a distance. They and their escort walked to Han’s tent as the group moved off to the grass. The princess had to watch the fight that would determine her future.

  “Has it begun?” Virago asked as dread filled her heart.

  “I do not believe so,” Flaxen answered. “I do not see the High Guard champion.”

  Pluck walked out, glanced at them, bowed, and spoke a greeting, “Princess Virago... Lady Flaxen...” She continued pass them and stopped, watching those gathered in the circle. She grabbed her freed tail, stroking it apprehensive of what would happen next. Pluck felt the stares of the princess and her escort, knew the stress would only get worse, and dreaded making her appearance more than she feared facing the Dreadgon. She took a deep breath and headed for Gar.

  Her quick appearance out of the tent startled Virago and Flaxen. The princess’ guards drew their swords, surrounding the princess.

  “Fires of Morgog!” one of the Sentinels shouted.

  “Did you see that?” Virago uttered as she grabbed Flaxen's arm. “A beast! And it spoke my name. What is it after?”

  Flaxen watched the creature with the mane of fiery-crimson as it walked through those gathered to face the Dreadgons. “Oh my...” she exclaimed.

  “What?” Virago demanded.

  “I believe that creature... that hairy beast is our champion. See it wears the High Guard uniform,” Flaxen told her as she noticed it had breasts. “And I do believe it is a female.” Flaxen paused and then said, “If this is true, it is the one who requested the Kiss.”

  “How dare it?!” Virago declared as she made a disgusted face. “I believe I prefer Edward kissed a man; I believe I prefer he kissed a hundred men.”

  In the grassy area...

  Gar glanced around those gathered, demanding, “Where is your warrior?”

  “I’m here,” Pluck proclaimed.

  Morgogs and High Guards parted as they realized what was among them. The soldiers and sailors murmured, surprised and confused.

  “Phraggs! What is it?” a Fletching sailor asked.

  “Crell! It’s a Necrom,” a Morgog Footsoldier proclaimed. “We must destroy it!”

  “That thing has Pluck’s sword,” Parry said as he pointed out the weapon. “But where is he? Has it devoured him?”

  “I am here, Parry,” she answered. “I have always been here.” Pluck continued to the Dreadgons and then questioned Gar, “What are the rules of this match?”

  “Simple, the first one to yield loses.”

  “What? It is not to the death?” Avarice commented to his men, and the soldiers murmured their agreement. Avarice looked to Lord Caliber then back to Pluck and the Dreadgon. The Morgog Commander grinned, whispering, “It seems you were right about the Dreadgons. They have revealed the magic one.”

  Lord Caliber replied, “I knew I smelled sorcery; it is the enchantment of the Mystic Rose. Perhaps Pluck is the one the Rose bonded with and if so, we are one step closer to achieving our goals.” He looked worried as he glanced at the Dreadgons and then Lord Caliber said, “That is if she wins this match. We cannot allow the Dreadgons to take the princess. Are your men in position if the Beast Woman should fail?”

  “Yes, everything is ready.”

  Edward stepped toward the Dreadgons and asked them, “How do we know you shall keep your word and leave peacefully if we win?”

  “I, Gar, have given my word,” he replied as he turned to his comrades. “If I should go against it, they will harshly deal with me.” Gar faced Pluck and told her, “I have never faced a female of your kind in battle. This should make an interesting match.” He smacked his spiked club on his palm and asked, “Are you ready?”

  Of her kind? Pluck looked over his monstrous gray form. His three sallow eyes peered at her, expressing his determination as drool frothed around his square lips and yellow tusks. He was a presence to fear.

  “Yes,” Pluck answered, unstrapping her scabbard. She unsheathed the Lux and thunder rumbled from the blade, warning those who would oppose it. She drew strength from its power, threw the scabbard aside, and then said, “Begin.”

  Tusk and the other Dreadgons backed away as Gar twirled his club, loosening up. His hog nose twitched with his zest to fight as his wide bare chest bulged with muscles. He struck suddenly and with great force, slamming his spiked weapon upon her. Pluck lifted her sword and blocked his attack as his weight and strength bore down on her. Her arms shook under his pressure. Gar lifted his weapon, swinging to bat her away, but Pluck ducked, rolling to the Dreadgon’s feet. She struck at his unprotected ankles. He quickly lifted his leg, evading her attack and then Gar smacked her with his free hand, sending her across the grass. She landed hard and slid. Pluck coughed on sand and dust, sat up, wiped her bloody lip, and stood.

  Gar laughed as he spoke, “Thought we were slow because of our size. You should never underestimate your opponent.”

  He charged, slamming into her like a Desert Bull, and the force hurled her into the crowd of men, knocking several of them to the ground. Pluck rose to one knee, dazed, and looked around at those gathered. Many of them glared at her like they wished they were the ones trying to kill her. She dragged herself to her feet.

  “Do you yield?” Gar asked.
“Surely you know you’re out matched. Give up now before you’re hurt any further.” He pointed his club at the men and told her, “I see how they stare at you. Why do you fight for their kind?”

  “Do not give up!” Edward pleaded.

  Pluck glanced at Princess Virago who had moved to the circle. The princess and Flaxen cringed from her. What was she fighting for? Pluck had to remember or she would give up right there. She fought to end her curse and keep a promise to Han. She glanced around the circle and knew they would kill her if she lost, and Edward wouldn't be able to stop them. If she focused on that motive, then Pluck would be driven by fear. She focused on Han and the love she had for him and with new resolve, Pluck stuck her sword in the ground, removed her gloves, and kicked off her boots. She no longer needed them, and she may need her claws.

  Pluck drew the Lux from the sand and declared to the Dreadgon, “I will not yield!”

  She rushed upon him, leapt into the air, and came down on him with her sword. Gar lifted his club to block as the Lux flashed like lightning and then sliced through the wood. The spike covered end of the weapon fell to the sand, and the Dreadgon stared at his club astonished. Pluck landed, slapping a palm down to absorb the force and then she stood, tail twitching her eagerness to attack again. Gar threw what remained of his club at her. She quickly dodged it, rolled to her feet, and rushed upon him as he barreled his hand down on her. She evaded, slicing her sword across his ankle. Gar howled, then brought his other hand down, and smashed her; the force nearly knocked her out. She laid there motionless as Gar stumbled back from his injury. Tusk stepped up and supported his comrade.

  Gar snorted and then questioned, “Do you yield?” he asked through gritted teeth as green blood trickled down his ankle.

  She didn’t reply.

  “Do you yield?” he asked again as he hobbled on one foot.

  Pluck moved her left hand from underneath her belly, swiped it across the sand, and felt how warm the granules were under the sun. She sucked in needed air which made her side hurt and with intense pain, Pluck pushed off the ground, used her sword as a crutch, and rose to one knee. Red blood ran from her eyes and mouth. Her vision blurred as she scanned the crowd. Most of their faces hadn’t changed except for Virago and Lady Flaxen. They realized if she lost the duel then the princess would be taken.