“You don’t know what they do to women, Jia-Nian.”
Half laughing, half crying, she shook him. “But I do, Aydon, have you forgotten? You understand the lure of vengeance, I know you do. Give me the chance to cut off as many of their balls as I can before I leave this world. Besides, if I am truly the prophesized queen, then I won’t die—and neither will you or Danior.”
His eyebrow arched as he looked down at her. “And if you’re not?”
“Then together we’ll greet Shorana, goddess of the spirit world, after a glorious battle, fighting for what’s right and good and just. I will not be put off, Aydon. What will you do, tie me to a tree to keep me from following? Would you leave me helpless so that I may be raped and dismembered by Tordanuk’s guard should you be unable to save me?”
“Damn you, woman,” Aydon spat. “As a man of honor it’s my responsibility to protect you. And should you indeed be the Queen of Zalvanus, it’s also my sworn duty.”
“True,” Jia-Nian agreed. “And so leaving me behind is your idea of protection?” She huffed a humorless laugh. “Guardian indeed.”
“I’ll strap you to Danior’s back and send you off.”
The last streak of orange on the horizon was replaced by deepest violet as the sun set.
“I think not,” she countered, gesturing to Danior. “He’s about to shift. Now there will be three of us to do battle.”
Mere moments later Danior’s transformation back to human was complete and he stood before them. “Give me my breeches, Aydon,” he demanded. “I would have a word with her royal majesty here.” His narrowed gaze in no way suggested that he used the term with reverence.
“What in the name of all that’s holy do you think you’re doing, Jia-Nian?” he asked, backing her into a tree and pinning her there. “This is war, a man’s turf, not some game of wits to play. Aydon and I are trained in combat. We understand and anticipate the tactics of Tordanuk’s guard. You would only impede us in our task. You will remain here as we investigate.”
“War, a man’s turf,” Jia-Nian repeated, taking a deep breath after Danior unhanded her to pull on his breeches. “Tell me, is that what you learned in your guardian studies? Were you taught that the Queen of Zalvanus hid in the woods as her guardians fought?” Danior opened his mouth to speak but Jia-Nian continued.
“No, the accounts of her future glory in battle are legendary. On the chance that I am the queen, then it is your obligation to let me join in the fight.”
Aydon broke into the conversation. “You’re wrong, Jia-Nian, it is not our obligation, it’s—”
“You’re right. It’s my royal command,” Jia-Nian stated, experiencing strange goings on inside her head, as if an ancient fog gradually lifted from her mind. “You will each obey me or face my wrath. Is that clear?”
Aydon and Danior exchanged dumfounded glances.
“She sounds queenly,” Danior said.
“And damned domineering,” Aydon agreed.
“We must be stealthy and take care not to endanger the remaining villagers or the visiting Zalvanean in their midst,” Jia-Nian said.
“But how do you know—” Aydon began.
Jia-Nian expelled a weighty sigh, realizing she didn’t have the answer. “I don’t know how I know, I just do. My head suddenly fills with disorderly bits of information.” She looked up at them and gasped. “Such as the fact that you are both in love with me.”
Danior’s jaw dropped. “You’re in love with Jia-Nian?” he asked Aydon, the question sounding more like an accusation.
Aydon’s mighty scowl altered his handsome face. “I warn you, Danior, this is no time for your scoffing. After the battle when we’ve wiped the Pushgan blood from our swords you can jeer all you like. But know that it was never my intention for Jia-Nian to know what was in my heart. I would have taken it to my grave.”
“Ah, yes. You were just going to discard me without so much as a look back once we reached Zalvanus,” she accused. “And you call me mulish!”
“And what about you,” Aydon thumbed Danior’s chest, ignoring Jia-Nian’s words. “She said both of us, did she not? Why didn’t you tell me you were in love with her?”
“The same reasons you didn’t tell me,” Danior said. “How many times have you lectured me on this very subject, Aydon? I knew you’d mock the notion. Besides, I couldn’t possibly be the second guardian prince foretold in the prophecy. There must be another.”
“What makes you say that?” Jia-Nian asked, her hand resting against Danior’s chest.
His expression became a sneer. “I’m only half a man, Jia-Nian, have you forgotten? If you are indeed queen, what would you do, house me in your royal stable by day and let me share your queenly bedchamber by night?” Danior coughed a humorless laugh.
Jia-Nian’s heart ached at Danior’s obvious pain. “Danior, how could you say such a thing? The half of you that is human is more a man than twenty other men put together. You know how I feel about you. I love you as much as I love Aydon.”
Danior nodded. “Aydon is a good man…the best—although I have difficulty picturing him as a prince.” This time Danior’s laughter rang true.
Aydon’s chin elevated and he smiled. “On the contrary, I believe I’d make a striking prince. Can you imagine the fun we’d have with a huge court of concubines, Danior?”
Jia-Nian treated him to a belly jab with her elbow. “There would be no concubines. I’d be all the woman either of you ever needed.”
Danior bent down to brush a kiss across her lips. “That you would, little warrior.”
“If we are to move,” Aydon said, gesturing toward the village, “then we should go soon.”
Both Jia-Nian and Danior nodded. “But first…” Jia-Nian said, reaching up to clasp Aydon’s head and bringing his mouth to hers. She meant for her kiss to speak directly to his heart, to tell him of how much she loved him. He squeezed her to him, deepening the kiss, answering her heart message with his own.
After their lips parted, she did the same with Danior, fully realizing this could be the last time she ever kissed her beloved guardians. The way Danior held her and drank of her told her he shared the same thoughts.
Each kiss was indeed the kiss of a lifetime, a commitment of heart and soul.
“Armed and ready?” Jia-Nian asked.
“Armed and ready,” Aydon and Danior chorused.
And they were off to meet their destinies.
Chapter Eight
Taking care not to alert the tethered qubuji, the trio edged their way to the rear of a mudbrick building alight with torch flame where voices and raucous laughter could be heard.
“They sound drunk,” Jia-Nian whispered and Aydon and Danior nodded in agreement. “That’s good. Their reflexes should be dulled.”
“Keep me as your prisoner and let the women and the youths go,” a man’s voice inside the structure said.
“You’re our prisoner in any case, Zalvanean,” came another, gruffer voice. “Tordanuk will enjoy questioning you while your brittle old bones linger on the rack. As for the women,” he paused to revel in husky laughter, “once we’ve used them up we just might let them go. It depends on how well they please us sucking our cocks.”
“Release the children, at least,” the Zalvanean said. “They’re hardly more than babes.”
“The youths…ah, now there’s a sweet promise. The girl children’s little tits are sweet nuggets to suck and their chaste cunts and nether holes promise tight, hot fucks for my men. If they survive they can be on their way. The boy children will serve as slaves and sexual playthings while we’re on the road.”
“Have mercy! See how they cower?” the Zalvanean said in a pleading voice. “Surely it doesn’t make you feel more a like a man to despoil innocent youths.”
“Shut up, old man!”
Jia-Nian winced at the distinct sound of flesh hitting flesh, followed by a deep moan of pain.
Both Aydon and Danior furtively peeked at the wind
ow hole.
“I count five guards, six women and eight children,” Danior whispered. “Plus the old man, the Zalvanean.” He turned to Aydon and Jia-Nian. “But what of the village men? I expected to see their corpses littering the grounds, yet I’ve seen none.”
“That has me mystified as well,” Aydon agreed. “We need a distraction, something to draw the Pushgans out of the building and into the open air to keep the prisoners from harm while we advance.”
“The qubuji,” Jia-Nian said. “If we can stir them to an uproar, the guards will come see about the din.”
“Good thinking, Jia-Nian,” Danior said. “I’ll steal around to where they’re tethered and slit one of their bellies. That should create a deafening clamor.”
He turned to leave but Jia-Nian caught Danior by the hand. “No, let me do it. I’m much smaller and can slip under and between the qubuji more easily that you.”
“It’s too dangerous,” Aydon protested. “Qubuji are ferocious.”
Jia-Nian smiled at him. “We waste precious time talking. Ready yourselves for the Pushgans so we can take down as many as possible at once. As soon as I finish with the animals I’ll circle around and join you in front.”
“Be careful,” Danior said and Jia-Nian nodded before padding away.
Seven hulking creatures stood tied to a small grove of trees. That meant there were two Pushgans unaccounted for. Jia-Nian gazed left and right. The rest of the village seemed still and there was no sign of the other guards. With quick, furtive steps she closed in on the qubuji, selecting the biggest for her target. Its size meant it would move slower than the others and she’d have a better chance skirting around it.
Drawing her brother’s short sword from its sheath, she approached from the back. The creatures stirred, sniffing the air. Innocence was not a trait of the qubuji. They seemed to be inherently cruel and sadistic, which, no doubt, was why the Pushgans chose to ride them instead of horses. Still, Jia-Nian saw no need to gut one of them to create a clamor. She glanced at her sword and switched her two-fisted grip so that the broad, flat side would meet the qubuji’s hide with a stinging thwack.
The target beast spotted her and trumpeted just as Jia-Nian struck a blow to his backside. For good measure she slapped two of its brethren on their wide asses. The animals bellowed and Jia-Nian felt the vibration clear to her teeth. The other four qubuji’s went wild. Wary of being trampled, she sidled away but before she could escape she felt the staggering pain of a tusk goring her thigh.
With no time for tears or self-pity, she ran to the appointed place of her meeting with Aydon and Danior. Once there, she tore away cloth from the ragged hem of her garment and tied it just above the wound.
She saw that Aydon and Danior had the Pushgans in clear view as four of the five guards spilled out from the building to investigate the commotion.
“There’s a foe in our midst!” one of them shouted.
“Jia-Nian, your leg!” Danior cried softly, turning toward her and spotting her bleeding limb.
She put her fingers to her lips to hush him. “I’m fine. There’s no time to delay. Let’s kill these foul three-eyed sons of Pushga!” Sword in hand and a war cry roaring up from her belly, Jia-Nian ran toward the Pushgans who’d gathered at the grove of trees. Aydon and Danior were at her side, their battle cries thunderous.
The Pushgans, clearly slowed by their drunkenness, appeared startled and infuriated at the trio’s approach. Jia-Nian’s blade hacked at the knees of one Pushgan before he’d even had a chance to wield his weapon.
“You vile bitch! I’ll rip your cunt in two and feed it to the buzzards!” he screamed, struggling to remain standing.
Jia-Nian smiled when he fell with a resounding thud. She finished the job with a swift thrust to his chest. But there was little time to revel in one small victory. The clash had extracted the fifth of Tordanuk’s elite from the structure and he came darting at them fast.
“Watch your back, Aydon,” she shouted. Aydon turned just in time to impale the advancing Pushgan on his sword.
Danior battled two Pushgans at once, his cry at being wounded tearing at Jia-Nian’s soul. At the sound, Aydon took action, whipping his knife through the air and hitting his intended mark in the center of the back.
The fiend refused to die. Uttering a howl, the wounded Pushgan turned, enraged and rushing for Aydon, who still battled another of the three-eyed heathens. But before reaching Aydon, he raised his sword, clearly intent on slashing into Jia-Nian, who fought the third and final Pushgan.
It was just a fleeting moment between worlds as she watched the wounded Danior leap into the air, sailing in front of the attacking Pushgan, determined to protect her with his last breath.
His sword sank deep into the Pushgan’s belly, but not before the Pushgan’s sword had speared Danior’s chest.
Her world splintering before her, Jia-Nian let out a cry of anguish as her sweet Danior fell hard. But there were still two Pushgans left to deal with and Jia-Nian would see them choke on their own blood before they touched those innocent babes inside the building.
Dragging strength from somewhere deep in her core, she sliced away at the Pushgan she still fought, resolute in finishing him off so that Aydon too, didn’t sacrifice himself to keep her alive. With a mighty whack, she severed one of his arms, just beneath the elbow, enjoying his mighty howl of pain. His blood spurting, he came at her still but she moved too fast for the drunkard. With the next slash of her blade she’d speared the three-eyed tyrant through his fat gray belly.
She turned to Aydon who battled the largest of the brutes.
“I can handle him,” Aydon cried. “See to Danior, Jia-Nian.”
Torn, she did just that, kneeling at Danior’s side. He was so bloodied it was difficult to see where his wounds were. His eyes were closed and she feared he was dead. The anguish building inside threatened to turn her into a wailing, useless slug of a woman and Jia-Nian fought off the urge to sob.
She took his hand in hers and smoothed the hair back from his beautiful face. “Danior…Danior, my beloved, can you hear me?”
His eyes opened and once he focused, Danior smiled. “You’re safe,” he said.
“Yes, thanks to you I’m alive. Just be still, Danior, you’re going to be fine,” she lied. As she spoke she could see the light of life waning from his soft brown eyes and it chilled her.
“You see?” he said, still smiling. “I told you.”
“Told me what, Danior?”
“That I couldn’t possibly be the second guardian prince foretold in the prophecy.” He coughed blood and Jia-Nian whimpered, holding his hand tighter, trying to somehow hold on to his fading life. “There must be another,” Danior finished.
“No, there could never be another, my love. No one could ever replace you, my sweet, dear Danior.” She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it.
His fray ended, Aydon came to kneel at her side. Jia-Nian glanced up into his eyes and saw the shock and pain there as Aydon took in the sight of his brother guardian.
“Oh, damn, Danior,” Aydon said, taking Danior’s other hand and clasping it tight.
“Take good care of her for me, Aydon,” Danior said, his eyes closing. “Our little warrior…our queen…”
“I will, Danior,” Aydon said, his voice choked. “I promise.”
Danior’s grasp of Jia-Nian’s hand went limp and his head fell to the side.
“No! No, this cannot be!” she cried. “Great Ko’Loran, bring my Danior back to me!”
Aydon drew her to his chest and she wept.
“It is you,” came the Zalvanean’s awed voice above them.
Jia-Nian looked up from her grieving to eye the tall, slender old man gazing at her. Confused and doing her best to maintain some measure of calm, she asked, “Do you speak to me?”
“Yes, you, my queen,” he said with a deep bow. “My name is Oktodd. I am one of the custodians of the sacred prophecy. By the gods, I have been searching for you al
l my days.” The old Zalvanean got to his knees and prostrated himself before her.
Jia-Nian gasped at the fragile old man’s act of respect. “No, please get up” she said, touching her hand to his head. “I don’t know what makes you think that but you are mistaken, I am not the queen.”
“You glow, my queen,” the Oktodd said, rising to his knees. “We saw it as we watched you battle. A halo of light surrounds you.”
Aydon focused on Jia-Nian, his eyes growing wide. “By gods he’s right, Jia-Nian. Look at you, you’ve changed. Your hair shines like spun gold, your sweet face lights from within.”
She looked down at her hands and saw the soft glow, amazed such a thing was possible. “I don’t understand.”
“It is as told in the prophecy…her glowing visage in battle.” Oktodd lifted the hair from her neck, exactly at the spot of her birthmark. “There is no mistake. You are the long awaited Queen of Zalvanus.”
“No.” Jia-Nian shook her head back and forth. “No! Look.” She gestured to Danior. “The second guardian who would be my prince has been taken from me. There could never be another.”
“With but a kiss from her lips,” Oktodd said, quoting a portion of the extensive prophecy, “she restores life to her fallen beloved.”
Aydon grabbed Jia-Nian by the arms and squeezed tight as he gazed into her eyes. “You can bring him back.”
“What?” Jia-Nian’s thoughts whirled.
“Danior,” Aydon explained, his voice tight with emotion as he shook her gently. “Oktodd is right. You bring him back with your kiss. It’s in the prophecy.”
Jia-Nian’s hand flew to her breast where her heart thumped fast and hard. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized it was true, or was it merely wishful thinking? She lifted Danior’s head gently to place it in her lap.
“Come back to me, my beloved Danior. In Ko’Loran’s name let it be true and open your eyes…” Without wasting another breath, she leaned down and kissed him on the lips, willing him to rejoin the living, filling him with her strength.
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