Bhyr

by Penelope Fletcher

  ‘Like fungus?’ Ashleigh smirked, relaxing. ‘It’s fine if I don’t like you. You don’t have to like family.’ Her blue eyes misted as she looked over the battlefield. ‘We brought a war here. How did that happen?’

  My shoulders stooped. ‘I don’t know.’

  She grabbed me and hauled me in. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’ When she pulled back, she looked as surprised as I did. ‘Seriously. I worried. I had to threaten to castrate the Verak Alpha to bring us back.’

  ‘See?’ Beowyn cupped himself. ‘They insisted.’

  ‘And pointed a blaster at me.’ The jewel-green alien flashed hooked fangs on the top and bottom rows of his teeth. He spoke on a sibilant rush of warm, desert-scented air.

  I spun to Ashleigh. ‘You didn’t.’ I suspected the green alien was He, Venomous One, and we had enough problems with the Rä as it was.

  ‘Not me.’ Ashleigh hooked a thumb at Cristina. ‘She drugged the Baxnonian, staged a coup, lured Venomous aboard, threatened him with it, and then I confiscated it.’

  ‘Who even gave her a gun?’ I asked.

  They both pointed at Beowyn, who also pointed at himself with a slap-happy grin.

  Eyes slitting, Cristina bared her teeth when Bihter ran over to hold her. ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. I missed you, and we have so much to discuss, but now is not the time. But later, oh yes, later, we will talk for a looong time.’

  Bihter looked pleased then concerned, since the ominous tone of her voice didn’t match her manic grin.

  ‘You are a sweetheart?’ Venomous asked.

  Bihter nodded, smug.

  ‘My nest mate is a sweetheart, too.’ His face was somber as he clapped the male on the shoulder. ‘Grandfather be with you.’ He paused, thoughtful. ‘But then, you are used to your females cannibalising you.’

  Alarmed, Bihter looked at me for reassurance, but I looked away, making a mental note to ask Lumen just what the hell she’d been telling her mates and how far these rumours of man eating human females had spread across the universe.

  ‘Fergie misses you, Hel Bihter.’ Beowyn’s broad, feline nose twitched. ‘As does my Commander.’

  ‘I thought of them often,’ Bihter confessed. ‘I tried to comm them. So many times. I feared they would scorn me after what happened between you and the First.’ He swallowed. ‘After I betrayed their trust.’

  ‘Think no more of it.’ Beowyn gripped his shoulder. ‘The past is done. You will see them again, explain yourself, and they will welcome you.’

  While Bihter and Beowyn murmured to each other of the battle and what came next, Venomous studied me with obsidian eyes. He was frightening-looking.

  ‘Zython’s Avatar.’ Bhyr tensed, expression pained. ‘I might never–’

  Holding up a taloned fist, Venomous shook his head, hissing. ‘We will talk. Later.’ His gaze travelled to the ground, then snapped up as gold spread across his emerald scales in deepening hues. ‘Enemies approach.’

  47

  Indira

  At the sight of reinforcements, the last of the Rebels surrendered. Rahm was found and dragged before Bhyr, looking far too proud for someone who’d just lost.

  ‘This isn’t over,’ he seethed.

  ‘Enough, Rahm. Enough. I have the numbers.’ Bhyr gestured to his greater force. ‘It’s over.’

  ‘A thousand cuts will bleed prey as well as a single blow.’ Rahm sneered. ‘This conflict cost you. So will the next.’

  Bhyr shook his head. ‘Is this what you want for us?’ He swung out an arm. ‘Look at the dead. Ask yourself if this is the future you want.’

  I didn’t look around.

  I’d seen enough disembodied limbs and exploding bowels to last ten lifetimes.

  Instead, I stared at Rham’s eyes. No intelligent thought there. He was set on his course and nothing, no one, would dissuade him from it.

  ‘Better extinction than weakness. Better we die warriors. Better we die strong.’

  Bhyr looked at the rebel Horde, the Trusted, me.

  His ravaged expression cycled through a dozen emotions. ‘And if I step aside?’

  I jolted. ‘What? No!’

  ‘A leader sacrifices for their people,’ Beowyn murmured.

  Bhyr held up his hand when a thousand voices rose in protest. ‘I will take my mate and I will leave. Any who wish to join me would be welcome.’

  Rahm looked as if he’d been slapped. His face folded. ‘So you might continue your perversion elsewhere? No, Hel Bhyr. You and your mate will die. Here. Beneath my blade.’

  ‘You offer Challenge,’ Bhyr stated with satisfaction.

  My body relaxed.

  Backing Sah Rahm into a Challenge had been Bhyr’s plan, not abdication.

  Rahm wanted to be First.

  He’d climbed his way to Second, but knew he couldn’t defeat Bhyr in a fair fight.

  Rahm had orchestrated the war for selfish gains, using the Horde’s breeding crisis as a stick to whip the conservative males into a blind frenzy. Even losing the first battle hadn’t dampened his greed. He would never take a moment’s pause, so long as he achieved his goal.

  ‘We are at war,’ Rahm declared. ‘Single combat before the Horde is no longer of use.’

  ‘Challenge is as it should be,’ Bhyr said. ‘If I am defeated, as First, you will have the power to do as you wish. If I am victorious, it is my will that will prevail.’ His voice rose. ‘This conflict will end.’

  Rahm hesitated, gaze flicking side to side when the warriors beside him started nodding in agreement.

  ‘Well?’ Bhyr asked. ‘Do you fear death after all?’ When Rahm hesitated, cold calculation whisking across his face Bhyr leaned in, predatory. ‘You cannot have it both ways. Either Destruction has withdrawn his blessing and my time as his Avatar is done or He is with me and will guide my hand. Do you offer Challenge or will you hide behind your followers?’ Bhyr opened his arms wide. ‘Decide.’

  The rebel Horde shouted encouragement, excited at the prospect, and Rahm’s eyes glazed with resignation.

  He spun towards his sycophants. ‘I will fight you.’ He hollered, fisted hands punching the sky. ‘I will fight until there is no blood in my veins nor breath in my lungs.’

  The rebellious warriors yowled their support.

  Bhyr smiled, an ugly slash he dredged from dark places.

  Beowyn and Venomous agreed to witness the Challenge. It was obvious from the Horde’s expressions that Bhyr’s request was a formal overture to convey his respect for their presence, rather than an acknowledgement of their right to intervene if the situation devolved.

  The ground was cleared of the dead and discarded weapons to create space for a makeshift combat ring.

  Pulling me close to whisper in my ear and ignoring the jeers from the rebel Horde when they took issue with the affectionate display, Bhyr explained the rules. He and Sah Rahm would fight until either was unable to continue. The victor could offer mercy and have the loser exiled, or they could fight until either of them was dead.

  They were forbidden help.

  They were not allowed to forfeit once the fight began. It would be fought naked, and only the weapon they walked into the ring with could be used, divine Gifts excluded.

  ‘With your Gift this wouldn’t even be a fight,’ I said.

  Bhyr smoothed the crease between my brows. ‘A warrior might be fortunate to be blessed with a formidable Gift, but superior war skill is achieved through training and experience. To forgo the Gift during Challenge is a truer indicator of rightness.’

  Venomous and Beowyn found the stipulation fitting.

  I thought it was dumb, but it wasn’t my sacred ritual.

  I drank water to moisten my dry mouth and tried to look unconcerned.

  Naked but for a pair of squiggly swords the length of my thigh bone, Sah Rahm paced a line on the opposite side of the ring. His daulm plumped. A bar of black paint cut across his face. He shook his head like a mad dog, snarling and punching the air to rile hi
s followers.

  ‘What a dick,’ Cristina said. ‘Speaking of big dicks, I knew it.’

  I cut my eyes at her.

  ‘Seriously?’ Ashleigh said.

  ‘I’m mated, not blind. Look at that thing? How is she walking in a straight line?’

  Ashleigh took a long look.

  I exploded. ‘Quit staring.’

  Bhyr stood tense, silent, his focus absolute. A line of waede smeared from his temple to his mouth, arching inwards to graze his cheekbone. He held his parashu perpendicular to the ground. The double-edged blade was serrated on one side and the length of my forearm. It had been cleaned of gore until it shone. The haft was faded wood, but strong.

  A killing weapon.

  Snow began to fall. The flurries brightened the predawn sky. Crispy flakes brushed our skin with cold and dusted the bloody ground.

  He, Venomous One, known to the Horde as Zython’s Avatar, such was their admiration, stepped forward. Colours of the rising sun reflected off his emerald scales. One of four gold-banded arms raised.

  Dreads like those worn by gurus slipped over his shoulders and the gold rings piercing them tinkled. ‘Begin.’

  Bhyr glanced at me.

  I put on a better face than the wrinkled, sweaty one I wore. ‘I’ll be here waiting.’

  His eyes glinted, mouth twitching. ‘For you, my mate.’ He stepped into the ring.

  Cristina and Ashleigh flanked me on either side.

  My hands shook.

  Crazy thoughts of flinging myself forward, begging broke through my wall of calm. ‘Don’t let me embarrass him.’

  ‘We’ve got you,’ Cristina said. They each clasped a hand to hide its tremors.

  Bhyr’s steady tread shifted into a long-legged lope.

  Hissing, Rahm rushed him, twin blades whistling a pure note. Bhyr ducked. He spun in a whirl that kicked up a spray of snow then stilled on his knees, lifting his spear. Rahm landed the first blow, a showy twist of his wrists. The rotation of both shoulders added power to the downward stroke of his arms.

  I stopped shaking.

  The male had thrown all his strength into the strike.

  Bhyr didn’t flinch.

  He stalled the momentum of Rahm’s body and swept the dual blades aside to surge onto his feet. He knocked the male off balance with a knee to the gut and an elbow to the face, lightning fast, tap, tap.

  ‘Damn,’ Cristina muttered.

  Bihter stopped beside her, gaze intense. ‘He is First.’

  Her hand slipped into his.

  Envy pooled in my gut. I wanted nothing more than to do the same with Bhyr but he was…. I looked over as he sucked in his gut to avoid disembowelment.

  I closed my eyes for a second, lightheaded.

  Despite the apparent ease with which Bhyr absorbed the first strike, Rahm kept my mate moving and on the defensive.

  ‘Should it be taking this long?’ Ashleigh asked.

  Cristina shushed her.

  My nails dug into the back of their hands. ‘What is he doing?’ He shouldn’t be struggling. ‘Come on.’ My heart raced. ‘Something’s not right.’

  ‘Look again.’ Bihter said.

  I saw it. Bhyr let the male push him back, forcing him to utilise his speed and strength, draining both. Rahm grew frustrated at not breaking through Bhyr’s guard. He attacked in an erratic burst.

  Bhyr’s stance switched. He pressed forward. His parries quickened and were followed with stinging counterattacks. It was brutal. Flesh parted. Blood flew. His blocks were replaced with flurries of movement too fast for my eyes to track.

  Sah Rahm lurched back, stunned by the ferocity and skill bearing down upon him.

  ‘Kill, kill, kill.’ The warriors behind me began to chant and beat their chests. The Rebels had fallen silent, faces pained, watching their leader whittled to nothing, bled and broken.

  Nostril slits flapping as he blowed air, Rahm accepted his demise. His face hardened. He lunged with a form-perfect but predictable frontal strike. Bhyr blocked. He captured Rahm’s wrist, broke it, then sent a squiggled blade flying. He disengaged, turned out to regroup, then snapped straight and roared in outrage.

  Rahm had spun, too, only counter to what Bhyr expected.

  The male sprinted at me.

  Bihter yanked Cristina back, her hold on my hand dragging me to the side. The same protective force pulled on Ashleigh. I wrenched free rather than get torn in half.

  Triumph lit Rahm’s deranged face. We locked eyes. He raised his sword. ‘If I must die, I will take it with me.’

  A spear point ripped through his chest.

  Blood splattered my face.

  Rahm arched, eyes popping from his skull. His sword clattered to the ground.

  A muffled scream escaped through Cristina’s fingers then Bihter was there talking her down and shielding her view.

  Ashleigh staggered into Ohx, who closed his arms around her like steel cables.

  I followed their horrified gazes down a few inches.

  The spear grazed my chin.

  Rocking back, my eyes flicked over Rahm’s shoulder to find Bhyr leant forward, his arm extended in a followthrough, face twisted with rage. He crossed the distance in a blink. ‘Coward.’ He pushed the spear deeper, twisted it, and then ripped it free. ‘Die.’

  Rahm teetered, shoulders juddering as he tried and failed to breathe. The male who would be First fell to his knees, a harsh sucking in his throat. He glared, full of hate to the bitter end.

  Fury lit me from the inside.

  So many people had died. It kept me up at night.

  I lodged my antler knife in Rahm’s eye. His death wouldn’t disturb me in the slightest.

  ‘Didn’t see that coming, did you?’ I yanked my knife free in a spray of fluid, then Bhyr hacked his head off.

  Ashleigh shuddered, and Cristina bent over to puke.

  It was horrible, uncivilised, but I felt good about my part, vindicated, until his dead weight collapsed on top of me. I panted at the effort it took to open my eyes. My neck and chest were soaked in red.

  Bhyr came into view.

  He shoved Rahm’s body aside and held out an arm. ‘Up, my Indira.’ His eyes were fierce. ‘We are not done.’

  ‘Oh, yes, we are.’ I grabbed his forearm anyway because I’d follow him anywhere.

  His possessive gaze roamed my body then moved over my head. Bhyr turned to the melded gathering of warriors. ‘Is there another?’ His voice was quiet but clear. ‘One amongst you who will fight me fairly?’

  The crowd stirred, a ripple moving towards us.

  A warrior decorated in waede and flaking blood stepped forward. His one eye scanned us. ‘I do not offer Challenge, but I will not follow you.’ He met Bhyr’s frosted gaze. ‘I cannot. You are not who I believed you to be. To bring these creatures among us? To choose them when you swore devotion to us? No. You have gone back on your word to me, now I go back on mine to you.’

  Bhyr’s grip on the spear haft tightened. ‘I have no place for the faithless in my Horde.’ He studied the male, then looked at me. His attention switched to the Horde. ‘Who else feels as Erd Styng?’

  The gathering sundered.

  At last count, three hundred and some warriors separated from the Horde.

  They clustered together and glared at the waede painted males who fell to their knees and pressed their heads to the ground, pledging loyalty to Destruction’s Avatar.

  Bhyr accepted the choices with a nod.

  Bihter’s face blanked at the display of mercy.

  Eyes like marble chips, Bhyr spoke. ‘Once I am done here, you will be taken to your nests. Gather your belongings. You will be escorted from my territory.’ He paused. ‘You will not return.’

  The estranged males exchanged alarmed glances amongst themselves.

  ‘This is our home. It is all we have.’ Styng’s scarred hands fisted. ‘You are not our First. You cannot take our nests.’

  ‘Leave or die.’ Bhyr snarled. ‘Yo
u are not my people. You are not my Horde. You are nothing, and you are no one. Settle in the lands beyond this one, and do not return. I warn you to go far.’ He thrust the spear towards the distant mountain range, its peaks wreathed in storm-dark clouds. His shoulders heaved with emotion before he stiffened, straight-backed, chin lifted. ‘Should a warrior of my Horde seek you for retribution, I will not stop them.’ Done with them, he looked pointedly at Bihter, now his Second, who nodded acceptance of the responsibility.

  An eerie caw split the air.

  Shivering as the snow fell harder, I looked up, my hair flying about my face.

  Carrion birds soared overhead. The rainbow-coloured scavengers circled the battlefield in a tornado of leathery wings, jewelled rain landing on the outskirts of the battlefield to peck at corpses.

  As the pain of the losses crept past his battle fugue, my mate turned his back to the carnage. He wrapped his arms around me, staring over my head, focused on nothing. I put my arms around him and held on. The side of my face rested on his chest. It was sticky and smelt like metal and sour meat.

  Tremors wracked his limbs, but he was alive.

  We won.

  It filtered through.

  Cristina, Ashleigh, Mayumi and all the other human mates were safe, free to love and live as they wished.

  Bihter took charge of the defeated and gestured for the Horde to restrain them. His voice was brisk. ‘Before we go, you will burn your dead…’

  I started to relax, the tension knotted at my middle since the beginning of this nightmare loosening.

  It’s over.

  Bhyr’s hand stroked over my hair. ‘Not yet.’ For a second, I thought he’d read my mind, but he’d reacted to the feel of my body unclenching.

  I tipped my face up.

  His gaze remained settled on a sight beyond me.

  Realising he didn’t stare at the middle distance as I’d assumed, I twisted around.

  Bhyr cupped the back of my head. His chest rose and fell, breathing in my scent, then he released me. The crowd parted to let him pass. Bihter and Ohx flanked his back. The Horde flowed around me in his wake, as if I were a pebble in a stream.

  What have I missed?

  ‘Indie?’ Cristina’s worried eyes aimed towards her mate.