by Vi Voxley
"Moving on," Daegon called to his men, and they set out again.
In peacetime, Poural was a beautiful planet on par with the holy world – Gaiya, to the Union – but the bombing of the Yemalan fleet was ruining that. They had resisted, of course, but Poural had clearly been caught by surprise. The tower ruins Daegon had stood upon were the remains of a defense array, now nothing but pieces of metal and bone.
The horizon was teeming with the Yemalan as far as his eyes could see, but it wasn't even all of them. They had landed near strategic locations, trying to paralyze the Corgan defenses all at once. Daegon had no doubt it had been Arboc's idea.
There was a reason the Yemalan attacks always failed. They were vicious and cruel, but not overly clever. Arboc must have seemed like a gift from the gods to them, a man who could devise a real war for them. So far, their tactics had always been simple and straightforward. Attack with full force, retreat if you lose too many – which was what always happened.
This was different, and Poural was suffering the cost of the Yemalan learning new tricks.
Daegon didn't want to give it too much thought. The rage was already burning hot inside him; he needed no more incentive to kill. His twin blades were already crimson with blood and so was his armor. Every man with him had killed dozens of enemies, but that was not the opponent they wanted.
The traitor clan had yet to show their faces, letting the Yemalan do the dirty work. Daegon gritted his teeth, knowing that was exactly like Arboc. No other Corgan would have been happy with others tiring him out before stepping in for the kill, but Arboc would be.
He was pretty confident that was the other clan lords' final plan. Then he could have traveled the battlefield more freely.
The comm link crackled again to Daegon's annoyance. Messages flooded in, speaking over each other. If they didn't join the Union, he supposed they could at least trade with the Palians.
"...The girl..." said a voice over the comms.
Daegon froze in his steps. He brought the speaker as close to his ear as he could and listened carefully.
The girl. Zoey. No, that can't be. She is with the Union, far away from here.
"...Have her..." a Corgan said. "...Bringing...to execute...Loxe..."
Daegon was running before the message ended. He had already heard everything he needed to know. There was no doubt about it – somehow the enemy had gotten a hold of Zoey. Whether she had come with the Union or they had kidnapped her, she was on Poural. The execution part was a dead giveaway, it couldn't have been anyone else. Arboc had had his prize slip away once, but now he meant to go through with it after all.
And "Loxe" meant Loxer Garden, a central gathering place for religious festivals. On top of everything else, Arboc wanted to commit the blasphemy of killing someone in a place of peace.
Daegon ran.
* * *
Places, warriors, fighting and blood flashed before his eyes as he stormed through the desolation of Poural. Not stopping for anything or anyone.
The only thing in his mind was finding the correct and fastest way to Loxer. It had been a while since his last visit to Poural and his memory of the layout wasn't perfect. The warlord tried to remember every detail, every last clue that would help him reach Zoey sooner. If he got lost, if he was late...
And then Loxer Garden towered above him, a gigantic artificial hill that was somehow intact even after the bombardment. Daegon thought that that must have been Arboc's order as well. His men would never have agreed to the destruction of such a treasure.
He wondered if the Yemalan already knew they were about to be betrayed by the man they were unwittingly dying for. It was almost enough to bring sympathy, but seeing the dead, Yemalan and Corgan alike, lying on the ground hardened Daegon's heart to the point of uncaring.
A long staircase went up from the ground floor to the top of the hill. Daegon took three steps at a time, charging ahead without thinking of his safety.
There was a small park on top of the hill, which was why the place was called Loxer Garden. In the middle of it stood a small, crystal clear pool. It was said that the water reflected the truth.
Two people stood by the side of the pool. Daegon recognized Arboc immediately, finally confirming what they'd all known from the start. His eyes traveled across the long sword in his hand, neatly placed on Zoey's throat.
Her green eyes were wide, looking right at him.
Resisting the urge to draw his blades and throw one right through Arboc's treacherous heart, Daegon came closer, slowly.
"Stay right there," Arboc said almost lazily. "Or the pretty girl dies."
Daegon did, right on the other side of the pool, glaring at him.
"There is no guarantee that she lives if I do as you say," he said. "Are you alright, Zoey?"
She couldn't exactly nod and the situation was far from okay, but there was suddenly a warmth in her eyes that said everything. Daegon's fingers itched for his swords. His heart called for blood.
"I saw you coming," Arboc said. "Almost on time, too. I wanted to cut her throat and leave her in the water as a gift for you, but so much for that."
Daegon's eyes flashed, imagining the sight that would have greeted him a measly minute later. Zoey, face down in the water, her blood coloring the clear water crimson red.
"You are despicable," Arboc went on, and this time there was pure fury in his voice. "I expected better from you, Daegon. I truly did. But you're just like the rest of them. Siding with Nadar over your own people!"
"Seems to me," Daegon replied seriously, keeping an eye on the blade on Zoey's throat. "That if the others denied you, our people do too."
Arboc's hands shook with rage and Daegon's hearts skipped a beat, seeing the sharp blade come closer to Zoey's neck.
"You know nothing!" Arboc bellowed. "This is all wrong, can't you see? But of course you don't. You even invited the Union to help."
"I didn't," Daegon said. "They came of their own volition."
"Even worse," Arboc snarled. "This is what they think of us. That they can come and do what they like."
It was a wondrous thing, reason. Daegon had thought a lot about that in the last months. In the beginning, when Arboc had first begun speaking up against the chieftain, he'd sort of agreed. The Corgans had lived for ages without the Union; it seemed humiliating and unnecessary to deal with them now. But with every speech Arboc gave, there was less sense and more madness in his words. Until he finally turned into the fanatic that stood before him, brilliant but insane.
It wouldn't have done him much good to argue with a man like that, but Daegon was stripped of all other weapons but his words. For the moment, all he needed was a second.
"And you?" he asked, painfully aware that provoking Arboc was a risky move. "The chieftain wants us to get along with the Union. He is not giving anything away. You are prepared to sell us to the Yemalan scum."
The accusations seemed to strike true, because there was a disgusted look on Arboc's face.
"I will give them nothing," he said quietly. "They too will have their hour of reckoning, but not before they've given me what I want."
The other clan lord thought for a moment.
"And don't talk to me about giving something away. Nadar gave away the holy world. The shrine, Daegon!"
"He shared it."
"Open your eyes," Arboc said, and there was a hint of desperation in his voice. "He is dragging us to our end. I have to do something before it's too late. This will teach him."
He tightened his hold on Zoey and her silent scream hurt Daegon. He inched closer, but Arboc wasn't blind.
"Stay," he warned, backing away.
Daegon knew why he still hadn't killed her. A coward would always be a coward, ready to give grand speeches to those he knew he could beat, but Daegon was a threat. Zoey was a shield to him. If she died, there would be no stopping Daegon and Arboc knew that.
For Daegon, that changed nothing. If Arboc snapped and cut Zoey's throat, she
would still be dead and nothing could bring her back.
He tried a different approach – coming closer, not stopping when Arboc warned him. With both his hearts thudding inside his chest, Daegon had to trust that the traitor's will to live was greater than his hatred for him and the chieftain.
"Look around you," he said in a deep and menacing voice. "How do you think this will end, Arboc? You have already lost. If I won't kill you, someone else will. Let her go and I promise you a quick death."
Now the madness truly flared in the traitor's eyes as he backed away from him, dragging Zoey along.
"You disappoint me," Arboc snarled, baring his teeth in a humorless grin. "We are Corgans. We will do what we must, no matter the cost."
Daegon stopped in his tracks. Had he misjudged the other warrior? Would Arboc really be prepared to go through with his insane plan, just to get the chieftain?
He saw Zoey move before Arboc did. The stolen Yemalan glove flared to life in her hand and he heard the traitor scream in the next second when she pressed her hand against his face.
Instinctively, he pushed her away. Zoey fell to the ground and Daegon was already moving, baring his twin swords. With half his face scorched black, Arboc jumped to his feet, his single eye gleaming with loathing. He only had time to bring the sword he was still holding up before Daegon's first blow rained down upon him.
He could hear Arboc scream something in a language he didn't know, and in the next moment, Loxer Garden was crawling with Yemalan. Looking behind him, Daegon saw a whole squad of them running towards Zoey.
Between the choice of finishing Arboc off and saving her, it was no choice at all. With a roar, Daegon jumped between her and the nearly hundred enemies surrounding them. Above the heads of the Yemalan, he could see Arboc slipping away, stumbling and holding on to his maimed face.
Zoey stood up, pressing her back against his. Together, they turned so that Zoey was facing the pool and Daegon the raiders.
"I'm so sorry," Zoey whispered. "I wanted to help. I couldn't just do nothing. And now I've killed us both."
Daegon didn't know what to say. She had brought a whole unit to aid him in battle, had now twice escaped a Corgan warlord and twice wounded him. And she was apologizing for failing.
"I'm here now," he replied instead. "You're safe."
He could hear her laughing hopelessly as the Yemalan came closer.
"We are surrounded," she said. "I think we're pretty far from safe."
"That only means we can attack in every direction and still hit an enemy," Daegon said, smiling despite himself.
Zoey should have stayed with the Union’s fleet, he knew that. A hundred enemies wasn't something to laugh about, especially when he had to protect her while fighting, but he couldn't help it. Zoey was there, with him, and the rest barely seemed to matter.
"I love you," he heard her say quietly when the first Yemalan screeched a battle cry.
He didn't get to reply before a hundred raiders charged them and blood began to flow into the pool.
Chapter Fifteen
Daegon
The first to attack were the first to die.
As a feared Corgan warlord, Daegon could rely on his enemies knowing who he was. It was out of character for the Yemalan to be fearful, cautious even, but he supposed his reputation did that. Not to mention the blood dripping from his swords. The looks on the raiders' faces were caught between loathing and terror, but for some, the first won.
That was the reason he could take the moment to kill them without checking to see if Zoey was fine. Until the raiders kept their beady, cruel little eyes on him, they couldn’t bother her. But it wouldn't last forever, of course.
"Shoot them," he called, hearing Zoey draw the gun on her belt. "If any of them get in the pool, fry them."
"I – What?" she asked, disbelief plain in her voice. "Are you serious?"
"If you let them get to you, they'll pull you down with them," Daegon replied, but that was the last spare moment he had.
The Yemalan weren't very clever, but they could understand the basics of fighting. If the opponent didn't want to go down, crowd it, tire it out. And by the spirits, they were trying.
The air around him was packed with the trident spears and crackling with the electricity from their gloves. Behind him, Daegon could hear screams and a startled yelp from Zoey. He wanted to call to her that she shouldn't put her hand in the water, but the little Terran seemed to understand without the warning.
The angry screams of the raiders told him that the trick had worked, for now at least. Daegon kept moving, driving the attackers back to win himself some room, although it came with the threat of him giving them a chance to go for Zoey.
The twin blades cut through the soldiers mercilessly. They were all fodder, regular soldiers. He had no doubt that the officers were coming too, that Arboc had sent a unit or more to finish him off.
The warlord had no intention of dying. Not by the hand of scum like the Yemalan, and definitely not by the schemes of that coward Arboc. He would drag them all to justice, which mostly meant the sharp end of his swords.
Minutes passed and the Yemalan tried everything. The ground was littered with bodies and they had to crawl over each other to even reach him. Daegon could already see almost eye to eye with the raiders as they stood on top of the bodies of their fallen. He parried and cut and struck faster than the eye could see, keeping a cage of blades around Zoey, not letting anything near her.
He noticed she had gone too quiet a moment too late. Before, her frantic breathing had given him a clue that she was still there and alive. Turning around, Zoey was nowhere in sight. There was a huge ring on the pool's surface and blood-colored water was washing over the stones before his feet.
Daegon could see one of the Yemalan officers standing in the shallow end, the water nearly reaching the creature's neck and realized at once what had happened.
He jumped without a second's hesitation.
There was no consideration, no planning. It didn't matter to Daegon that the Yemalan wouldn't use the gloves on the pool when the officers were still in there. Those weren't the important questions.
The only thing that he could think of were seconds. Counting back in his mind, how many were there? How many since he'd last heard Zoey?
The water was cold and murky and disgusting. It tasted salty and unnatural when it seeped in between his lips. Daegon had never tasted Yemalan blood before.
The only advantage he had was that Corgans could see considerably better in darkness. His blue eyes weren't exactly torches, but they let his gaze pierce the storming water around him. There, near the bottom of the pool, two officers were trying to drag Zoey to the depths. She'd had the good sense to flick off her glove before she fell, but Daegon could see her strength giving out.
A roar built up inside him, but he suppressed all emotion. With cold, fierce purpose the warlord swam towards the three. His armor was heavy, naturally helping to drag him down, but it wasn't comfortable to maneuver in under the pressure of water. When his feet touched the bottom, Daegon found it was easier to walk across the pool floor.
The water slowed him down, of course, but perhaps that was what made him look even more menacing. The looks of sheer horror on the faces of the Yemalan officers were a sight to see as Daegon appeared from the blood, the twin blades firmly in his hands.
They let go of Zoey at once. She had lost consciousness and, when released, sank to the bottom.
The Yemalan had figured out that they would not be able to escape without Daegon cutting them down, so they decided to face him. As if in slow motion, he could see their mouths open in a snarl as they both tried to skewer him. In the water, the trident moved quickly, but he was faster. His swords met both spears, throwing their aim off. Then he moved to Zoey's lifeless body.
Seeing that, the Yemalan stormed her. Daegon could see they were running out of breath and so was he. That didn't bode well for Zoey.
One of the officers
grabbed her, but that was the last thing he did. With a huge step, Daegon pushed himself off the pool floor and glided to the enemy. He tore the creature off her, snapping his neck in his rage.
The other had used his distraction to get behind him, stabbing him in the neck. The warlord could feel his blood mix with that already filling the pool, but luckily for him, the wound was only superficial. He turned, dropping one of his swords to catch Zoey.
The other Yemalan wasn't quick enough to move out of the way before Daegon's sword cleanly pierced his chest. He opened his mouth to scream, letting water in. The creature tried to get to the surface, but Daegon held his sword in place. Realizing the blade that was killing him was also keeping him from air, the Yemalan clawed at it, slicing his fingers. It took mere seconds for him to die, but that was all Daegon really had.
Holding on to Zoey, he pushed himself off the floor as hard as he could. Everything was a game of chance from thereon.
As soon as they surfaced, he grabbed hold of the pool's edge. The second of confusion within the Yemalan ranks saved them. Daegon pushed Zoey to the shore, harder than he would have liked, but time was running out. Already, the soldiers were realizing that their commanders weren't going to follow.
Daegon had barely gotten out of the water when a shock went through it. In fact, he felt it resonate through every inch of him when he jumped out of the pool. His limbs ached, shaking, but at least he'd managed to shove Zoey out of harm's way.
The Garden was filling with more fighters now. As he'd thought, Arboc had sent more units to make sure neither he nor Zoey left alive, but his own unit had finally caught up too. It went to show how much Zoey's life had depended on him dropping everything to save her.
Leaving the Yemalan to his warriors, Daegon rushed to Zoey's side. She was very pale and he couldn't find a pulse.
Healing wasn't his strong suit, but he knew the basics. Searching around in his armor's equipment belt, the warlord came up with a small pill, meant for exactly that occasion. Daegon hoped that it would work with Terrans as well as it did with his kind.