Tyrus stood with the two staffs stretched out to his sides as he was encircled again. The stones were drifting swiftly because of the movement. Tyrus stood on the sinking slab as it moved in a large, lazy circle. When he saw an opportunity, he flipped onto another rock.
The debris shifted, and once again, warriors followed. He whirled both staffs and lunged for the first warrior. The competitor yelled a battle call for added strength as he forcefully swung his baton like a bat. Tyrus blocked it, and then twirled his staff, swirling it down his opponent’s pole until his goo touched the warrior’s chest.
Tyrus dropped his second baton horizontally onto two stones floating a few feet apart. He jumped, and stepped on the staff to leap onto a larger stone that was twice the distance. He was making his way to the center where Beldor and X-avor fought back to back against other warriors. Tyrus marked a long line across each of the warriors’ calves without notice. He disqualified nearly ten men until the warriors banded together to defeat him.
He was faster with only one staff. He leaned back as a warrior thrust a baton at his jaw. Tyrus knocked it away, but quickly grabbed it, flipped the staff and twisted it out of his opponent’s hands, tagging the other warrior on the temple. As the warrior and his staff fell into the ink, Tyrus dropped low, swiping warriors’ feet with the blue glowing glop, tagging five men.
“He almost senses things before hand,” Noxis said.
“Maybe he’s had visions of this tournament,” Wyt answered.
“Impossible,” Noxis scoffed. “You joke too much, old man.”
Tyrus leaped off his sinking rock to a log and was surrounded again. The first warrior hurdled onto the log, and attacked. Tyrus extended the baton by loosening his grip, marking the warrior, and then advanced on the other before knocking his staff away.
Tyrus made his way to X-avor and Beldor who fought the last few men. When the three were the only ones remaining, Beldor and X-avor exchanged looks, and then they locked eyes on Tyrus, ready for battle. The two men gracefully strolled on the sinking boulders en route to Tyrus as they watched him flip his baton as he waited for them to charge. X-avor was the first to take a swing. Tyrus blocked the strike and his rock zipped away. A minute passed as Beldor and X-avor took turns swatting at Tyrus. Finally, Tyrus had enough. He lunged for Beldor.
The first blow broke both staffs. The sound of the striking sticks reverberated throughout the coliseum. Their skill was evident. They knew the other’s next moves, and dodged their staffs before the goo could touch their bodies. Tyrus became unpredictable. He sprang up, dropping half of his staff so he could grasp a hanging rope. He spun up the braid, wrapping the thick twine around his waist several times. When he was high above Beldor, he slashed the twine with the jagged wood, until it shredded and broke. He dropped onto a rock, and ran as he unwound the thick cord.
Beldor lunged. Tyrus had to be twice as fast, having only half of his staff. Tyrus thrashed the rope as a whip and wrapped Beldor’s legs before he yanked hard. Beldor dropped one end of his broken pole to grasp the log. Tyrus stepped on the other half, and swiped the goo on top of Beldor’s head as he hung. With another tug of the rope, Beldor plopped into the ink.
Tyrus wasted little time. He picked up the other half of the rod, and then ducked out of the way as X-avor swung his long staff at his head. Tyrus tripped and was pinned to the log. X-avor tried to tag him, but Tyrus held the end as goo threatened to drip onto his chest. Tyrus roared; his yell filled the arena. He wrenched the staff from X-avor.
Immediately, Tyrus flipped and landed on his feet at the end of the log, and almost lost his balance before he bounded to another boulder and stood upright. Tyrus moved from stone to stone, watching the weaponless X-avor. The two stood still, calculating each other. X-avor waited on the log for Tyrus to make his move. Tyrus did something unexpected; he dropped his staff.
Tyrus returned to the log empty handed. The only way to win was to knock the other warrior into the pool. “What are you going to do, young Tyrus?” X-avor laughed. Tyrus dropped and kicked X-avor’s feet out from under him, before holding onto the wood and spinning it to ensure he’d fall. X-avor slipped, first landing on his back before splashing into the pool.
The rotating slowly stopped and Tyrus swung back on top with ease. When he stood, everyone cheered. He was the champion. Tyrus threw his hands in the air. He basked in the adulation as he turned full circle.
“Tyrus! Tyrus! Tyrus!” The crowd roared as a group of men ceremoniously delivered the trophy to the king’s box. The golden trophy was over two feet tall and depicted a man standing on a rock holding a staff with glowing stones on each end.
The crowd’s hoots died when Wyt stood to announce the winner. Tyrus spoke before Wyt addressed the crowd. “I’ve bested your best, Cobaaron. Will you play me? Or do you think I’ve practiced on this course, and know I’d win?” Tyrus yelled so the entire stadium could hear.
Ky looked at Cobaaron. He was smiling, and shook his head. “That is one cocky kid,” Cobaaron said. The crowd cheered.
“He’s young, Cobaaron,” Noxis empathized. “That is what happens when you take away their weapon too early. Go easy on him, and let the troops spar and beat the pride out of him.”
“No. I’ll let the crowd build up his ego. The greater his pride, the harder he’ll fall.” Cobaaron laughed, still amused with Tyrus’s blatant boasting, as Tyrus continued to work the crowd. Cobaaron stayed in his chair watching Tyrus throw his hands in the air, encouraging the crowd to cheer louder and louder. “No, I don’t think I’ll go easy. He needs to know winning one championship doesn’t make him unbeatable. He’ll never be useful to me if he takes huge risks.”
Cobaaron stood, and the crowd roared their approval. Cobaaron took Surv’s staff resting on the railing, and then leaped to the rubble below. Cobaaron watched as a warrior brought Tyrus a new staff.
The crowd continued to cheer as the warrior left the stadium. Tyrus crooked his finger, motioning for Cobaaron to charge him as if he was ready for anything. Cobaaron ran, hurtling from rock to rock. The stadium was deathly silent as Cobaaron charged with unnatural speed, becoming a blur. Tyrus extended his staff as if not wanting Cobaaron too near. Cobaaron closed the distance, and Tyrus jumped determined to get higher. When Cobaaron saw Tyrus jump; Cobaaron dropped and seized the log, wrapping his arms around the thick trunk. A loud howl ripped through the stadium as Cobaaron yelled. He shoved the log out from under Tyrus’s feet as it plowed stones away. As Tyrus began to fall, Cobaaron extended his staff outward and tagged Tyrus’s backside. Tyrus plunged into the ink, as Cobaaron gracefully flung back up onto the log. In a blink, it was over. The crowd went wild.
Ky snickered, watching Cobaaron return to the king’s box victorious. He climbed over the railing, with help of Noxis’s extended hand.
“You didn’t even make that look hard.” Noxis guffawed.
“Have someone go get him. We’ll accept the trophy together. When he’s swallowed his pride, I want to spar with him. He has potential, but needs to learn more technique. I want to defeat him repeatedly until he learns his limits. He must know he has them.”
“I will tell him.” Noxis bowed. “He was very good, especially for being so young. I hear he’s only nineteen.”
“I want him to travel up front near me. Don’t let him sleep with a weapon either. In fact, advise him to hide if he’s tired. Otherwise he’ll be dead before the ash settles.”
At his words, Noxis left the king’s box. The crowd was still cheering when Tyrus came into the king’s box, black from ink. His bright green eyes were extraordinarily emerald and bloodshot with irritation. His blond hair stuck together like long dark dreads. Cobaaron smiled, and together they lifted the trophy into the air. Heightened ovations broke out in the coliseum as their names were chanted.
“Did you learn anything, young Tyrus?” Cobaaron asked.
“To be unpredictable at all times,” Tyrus replied.
“Then that is a good lesson.”
Cobaaron nodded. “What is your weakness?”
“I hate that I’m not perfect,” Tyrus admitted.
The two shook the trophy as they held it high. The crowd continued to rumble the arena with their cries.
“Some would call that pride. There is a big difference between confidence and pride, young Tyrus. Pride compels men to tackle feats beyond their limitations, and will one day be their undoing. Confidence sends men out to battle and brings them home victorious. I suggest you learn the difference, and quickly.”
“I’m not as prideful as you think, Chief. I had a purpose. Men will not be talking about my victory here tonight, but yours. I’ll sleep well as I hide under the mushroom grass in the forest.”
“Well, don’t sleep with your trophy, you may die by it. Don’t think I won’t send men out to look for you. Hide well.”
“I would expect nothing less, Chief. I want to be tested and proven.”
“Then you lied where you will be?” Cobaaron suppressed a smirk.
“I will never lie to you again.”
“If you think you’ve truly bested my best you’re sadly mistaken. Octavos is among the truly great, and he travels with the men I value most. You have a lot to learn if your hope is to lead this army. It takes years for men to learn to trust their leader. You’ll need their allegiance if they are to fight for you. Be careful what you wish for, young Tyrus, you may die for wanting my position.” Cobaaron shook the trophy and the crowd went wild. He glanced at Ky before asking Tyrus, “What do you think of my wife?”
“I don’t think of her,” Tyrus said hurriedly.
“Good,” Cobaaron replied with equal haste. “But I was going to ask if you think she’s a witch.”
“She can’t be a witch,” Tyrus stressed. “Her eyes are not an unnatural color.”
“Anyone can have a healer change their eye color, and witches can conceal their eyes at will. It’s common knowledge among healers and witches alike.”
“An unsuspecting slip of Espy Tonic reveals the eye color,” Tyrus said.
“Are you saying you made my partner drink a potion?” Cobaaron asked and any trace of humor evaporated.
“No good warrior would allow his captain to be under a witch’s spell,” Tyrus confessed.
“Espy Tonic is very unreliable,” Noxis argued. “A powerful witch wouldn’t possess a weak spell that would expose her true eye color with something as simple as Espy Tonic to expose her. There is no way to be certain until she’s in a life-threatening situation, close to death, and forced to tell.”
“If anyone threatens my wife, the punishment would be severe.” Cobaaron growled loudly, and glared at Noxis. “And if anyone else slips my wife a tonic, the entire army will be punished for such behavior. No warrior is to come close to her. I know a witch when I see one. My partner is no witch! My confidence in that should be enough, and remember, my word is law.” Cobaaron released the trophy, marking the end of the conversation.
CHAPTER SIX
Cobaaron led Ky through the forest of hopper trees to escape the throng. It was a nice break after several days in Sarnia, and Ky was overjoyed Cobaaron suggested leaving for privacy. They left the rowdy Lunar Dusk celebration, a holiday similar to New Year’s Eve, and Ky was once again seeing the carefree, sensual lover in him that she craved. They embraced, held hands, laughed softly, and whispered erotic words only lovers exchanged. Thankfully they had all night to enjoy each other’s company. She silently wondered if they headed to a specific destination. He divulged nothing, but led the way, taking their time.
They ate fruit as they walked, and were almost always touching. Ky loved moments when Cobaaron was more focused on being a lover than a warrior. He was even flirting, and she returned the attention.
“This better not be an escape cave, and another attempt to get rid of me,” Ky teased.
“No, I will never offer that again.”
“Well, that’s good,” Ky said, smiling. She playfully pushed him, which didn’t make him falter, but he grinned and did the same. She smacked into low hanging hopper leaves. She shoved him again, and added, “You don’t know your own strength.”
“No, you’re too little.” Cobaaron put his arm around her. “I like you small though.”
“I’m tall.”
“You’re thin and much shorter than me.” He winked. “Comparably, you’re very little.” He was teasing her, but she loved it. When they reached the edge of the forest, he pointed to a narrow tunnel. “We’ll slip through there, and wind up this slope to the summit.”
“We’re hiking on a leisurely stroll? It will be miles.” Ky tried to hide her groan, knowing all too well they were on what was as close to a date in this world as they came. She didn’t want to complain, but they were leaving the next day, and she would get plenty of exercise. She wanted to be lazy, find a cave, and make love to him.
“It’s about two miles up because it spirals tightly around. Come on. You’ll be glad you did once you get up there.”
“Okay,” she happily consented, relishing the alone time she had with him.
He led her to the passageway, and they slipped in with only enough room for them to walk side by side, but close together. They took their time, and stopped whenever Ky was out of breath. They shared long kisses, flirted, and then continued up the tunnel again. They reached the top and the terrain abruptly leveled as Ky’s timekeeper was so dim it was almost black.
They stopped in a small cavity that overlooked the earth, and the wild clouds. Ky was shocked to see how the outside changed in such a brief time. The ground was covered in what resembled snow, and ash fell from huge churning clouds.
“Don’t get too close to the edge. You don’t want to breathe the ash.” Cobaaron sat on the rock floor, and then patted the ground next to him.
Ky didn’t sit at first. She scanned the sky, listened to booming thunder, and enjoyed how muffled the sound was through the thick ash. For some reason, snow had a calming effect on her the way it made everything quieter. It was peaceful, and until that moment, Ky didn’t realize how much she missed her home.
Mostly she missed her mom, Penny. Ky was always so close to her. Her mom never missed one of her plays, and they used to have lunch at a salad bar every other Saturday. Sometimes her sister would come, but usually it was the two of them. She treasured those talks.
The saddest part was her mom was never real. Ky missed people who weren’t there, and that she never truly knew. Nevertheless, at that moment she missed them so much her chest hurt with sorrow as she gasped painful gulps of air.
“What are you thinking?” Cobaaron asked, bringing her thoughts back to the moment.
“Nothing.” Ky chose to ignore her solemn mood. She didn’t want to ruin the night with negative talk or thoughts.
He still had his hand on the rock, where he had asked her to sit. He was watching her with unmistakable love. She came to his side, sitting beside him. She rested her head on his arm, and enjoyed the comfort of being loved. And unlike her family in the dream, he was real. His warmth seemed to prove it.
“It looks terrible out there with those clouds. Is it always this bad?” Ky asked as a loud rumble echoed in the small cave.
“Yes, but it will be over by tonight.” Cobaaron nodded toward the dark clouds. “Do you hear that?” Ky heard rumbling from deep within the clouds and said so. “Yes, it sounds like thunder but it’s actually birds, called thunderbirds. They find their mate tonight, and do so by lighting up the sky. I’m sure the lights will begin soon.
“They are magical, elusive creatures, and as smart as they come. No one would know they exist if it weren’t for this one night. Beyond this night, I have never seen one, though some claim they have. They know they cannot survive if the ash remained in the sky, so they fly over the earth, changing the clouds to a brilliant blue with their magic, and then the ash falls from the sky within an hour. By the time they are done mating we will see the moon, and the new year has begun.”
“So, this is a New Year’s Eve party?” Ky asked, smiling. She caressed his chest, and then squeezed him. At the moment she couldn’t keep her hands off him. She memorized the dip of his pecs with her fingers, and hoped her touch excited him. “If it’s New Year’s Eve, we should resolve to start the year off right with a goal of some kind.”
“No, we try for a baby to usher in the new year. We hope that this year brings us better luck in conceiving a child.”
“I’m not ready to have a child.”
“I thought you would say that. It’s fine. I want to wait until we’re in the city, too, but I’d still like to try.” She knew it meant he planned on making love, and she had every intention of helping the idea along.
Ky was sure he would kiss her, wanting to seize the moment, but instead he took her hand as the sky lit up in a brilliant wave of blue and green. It was more like an aurora borealis than lightning. The radiant glow drifted across the sky slower than an ocean wave would hit the shore. The show was erratic and mesmerizing.
“The lights begin. The ash will fall within an hour.” It was some time later he said, “Thunderbirds are monogamous creatures that love greatly. They find their mate year after year, as if they never spent a day apart, but legend says they only meet for this one night, every ash season. The female will hide her egg and be completely devoted to her unborn chick, while her lover risks death by hungry dragons as he flashes in this ash to draw the predators away. Next year, when the first ash falls the egg will hatch, the young, already capable of flight, flee the nest to find its father. Then the cycle begins again. The parents search for their mate, share the one night and an egg, and as the father distracts the dragons and she hides, he leaves with the chick to teach him how to hunt. That is why this holiday revolves around trying for children. The thunderbirds are so successful.” Cobaaron watched her, and traced his thumb over the swirls on her arm. “Some say this night is magical.”
The Coming Dawn Trilogy Page 39