Davor

by Leslie Chase

  What would Davor say to them? She couldn't answer that question, things were too far from what she'd expected. Nonetheless she drew strength from her memory of him, from the thought of him, and reached deep into her soul for the fire he'd woken in her.

  She might not know what he'd say, but she could feel what she wanted to say and speak with his anger.

  "What the hell is this?" she demanded, stepping up to the dais on which Joron stood. "Your son sacrificed everything — everything — to give you a chance to rebuild and fight back. He's suffered, and struggled, and swallowed his pride, all so that the Fire Wolves would leave you alone. And now you're here saying that it's all for nothing?"

  Some of the warriors started forward angrily, but Joron held up a hand and they stopped.

  "Davor gave himself up as hostage so that we would be safe," the Ard said, shaking his head. "All your anger won't change that, and I won't let my son's sacrifice be in vain."

  "He didn't buy you safety so that you could tuck your tails between your legs and hide," Helen said, feeling her face redden. She turned to address the crowd, looking out at the sea of faces as she continued. "He did it to buy time so that you could prepare to fight back. If you're not going to do that now, when will you? Because the next time someone comes through the Worldwalker's Gate, it's likely to be Fire Wolves here to put him and Tark's daughter on your throne. And then you'll just be a part of the Fire Wolves, forever."

  Helen was out of breath by the time she'd finished shouting, but she could see the anger of the crowd. She had to hope that it was at the Fire Wolves, not at her.

  "What do you mean?" Joron sounded confused as he demanded an answer from her.

  "It's the only thing he could do to keep them from attacking again," she said, turning to address the rest of the Clan as much as she was him. "Tark's daughter, Gesha, will marry Davor and then when he inherits your Clan they'll take over. He's only agreeing because it buys you more time, but if you aren't going to use that time to fight back, what's the point?"

  The raw passion in her voice surprised her and left the aliens taken aback. They stared at her with a mix of disbelief and anger, and for a moment there was no sound aside from the distant pounding of surf on the beach.

  "Who are you to talk to us like that?" one of the alien warriors demanded finally, glaring at her. "You don't know what you're asking, or how much we've suffered already."

  Helen met his gaze unflinching, drawing strength from her memory of Davor. "I am Davor's mate, and I don't know as much about you as I thought. He told me a lot about his home, and I never expected to come here and find cowards."

  The crowd gasped, and they looked as though she'd just slapped every one of them. Helen wished she had. The anger inside her wouldn't be denied.

  Turning back towards the Worldwalker's Gate, she pointed with her borrowed spear. "I don't know what any of the rest of you are doing, but I'm going to get my mate back. Anyone with the spine to fight is welcome to join me!"

  Without waiting for a response she started walking. The crowd stood between her and the Gate, and a towering alien warrior blocked her path. Helen didn't stop, didn't even pause, she just looked up to glare at him as she approached and to her surprise, he stepped aside. With an embarrassed murmur the aliens parted, letting her through.

  As she walked through the crowd of towering figures, the anger she'd been riding during her speech faded and her doubts and fear came rushing back. What could she possibly do on her own? Helen didn't know, but she wasn't willing to turn her back on the man who would give up everything for his family, and for her. He deserved the same loyalty he showed others.

  Hearing footsteps behind her, she braced herself for a challenge. She knew that she wouldn't be able to fight off even one of Davor's Clanmates, but still she tightened her grip on the spear, not about to give up without a fight if one of them grabbed her.

  No attack came, though. As she walked to the edge of the village, not looking back, she heard more footsteps join hers.

  "Wait! You can't go," Davor's father called after them, voice cracking. "Damn you all, I am your Ard!"

  "Then act like it," someone else said in a growl. "The female is right, Joron. We can stay cowed by our defeat, or we can fight our enemies. Either way risks the end of our Clan, so let's go out like the warriors we are."

  Helen was surprised by the murmur of support that brought, and Joron's stunned silence. She didn't stop, didn't dare turn to look behind her, but she heard more and more of the Silver Sea warriors turn from their Ard and follow her.

  Maybe it'll be enough, she thought, daring to hope. Maybe we even have a chance.

  18

  Davor

  The warband traveled slower on the way back, much slower than Davor had on his escape with Helen. Davor wasn't sure how he felt about that. One the one hand, it delayed the inevitable, but on the other hand, now that he was committed to this course he'd rather have it over with.

  Unavoidably, he spent the trip walking with Tark and Gesha in the center of the pack of warriors. No one was willing to trust him, and he couldn't blame them. If he'd been able to think of a clever trick to get out of this situation, he'd have leaped at it.

  Maybe if I tear Tark's throat out? It would mean his death, of course — there was no way in all the worlds he would be allowed to escape after that. But what really stopped him was that he wasn't likely to succeed — Tark might be older, but he was still a formidable warrior in his own right. He could probably hold Davor off until the guards could intervene, and then it would be for nothing.

  The look he got from Tark as he abandoned that thought told him that the Ard was well aware of what he'd been considering. He wouldn't even have the element of surprise if he tried to attack.

  "Don't worry, father won't hold that against you," Gesha said quietly, smiling up at him and holding his arm a little tighter than she had to. Enough to get in his way if he tried to attack, or to run. "He wouldn't respect you if you weren't considering your options."

  "Was I that obvious?" Davor said, shaking his head and resisting the urge to pull away from her. She laughed.

  "In my family, you get used to reading such things," she explained. "There are always people who want us dead around, and we need to know who they are. See, I'm going to be useful to you when we're working together."

  Davor bit his tongue. Perhaps if so many people want you dead, you're doing something wrong, he didn't say — it wouldn't do any good, and there was no point in insulting her now. For better or worse, he had made his choice and there was no way back now. Though it made him sick to his stomach, he had to play his role if he was going to protect his family.

  By the time they arrived at the village, two days had passed and Davor's mood had soured with each passing night. Tark had sent word ahead, some of the warriors shifting to travel faster and bear the news of their return, and so the village was decked out for a feast again. This time, it was prepared for a wedding feast. Davor's heart sank as he saw that, and Gesha laughed.

  "You didn't think that father would waste any time, did you? The sooner we're mated, the better, from his point of view."

  "And from ours?" Davor asked, looking at the crowd that had gathered to welcome them. Every Fire Wolf in the village had gathered there, even the guards, and all the prisoners were waiting on the sidelines ready to serve. It looked like the ceremony was ready to begin as soon as they arrived, and the Fire Wolves were impatient for the celebration to begin. All but one, anyway — Karak was there, waiting beside the Elders. He'd been too injured to join the hunt but from the look of him, the Elders had healed him back to fighting health. The look on his face had nothing to do with joy, and the way he held his spear made it clear he'd rather be stabbing Davor than watching his wedding.

  Davor met his gaze with a cold stare that forced Karak to look away. There was still a reckoning to be had between them, but this wasn't the day for either of them to pick that fight.

  "Oh yes, Davor
," Gesha purred her answer, a sound that made him want to shiver. "The sooner the rituals are out of the way, the sooner we can get to the fun part."

  Davor had been trying not to think about that for the entire journey. After the ritual, they'd be expected to lie together. He'd be expected to father her children, to raise a family with her. However keen she might be for that, all he could think about was how it would betray Helen.

  Let that go. Helen's gone and you'll never see her again. It's time to do what you have to for the good of your Clan, he told himself sternly, trying to hide his feelings from Gesha's keen eyes. He didn't think he was succeeding, but he couldn't tell — her emotions were unreadable behind her cold eyes, and her face showed only what she wanted it to.

  He'd rather have lain with a snake than with her — at least the venom would end his life quickly.

  But this was the bargain that protected his Clan, so he put his best face on it, forcing a smile and waving to the crowd as they cheered him. A few of the prisoners glared at him, and he couldn't blame them. It must look like he was betraying them, too, and he wasn't even sure that they were wrong.

  "Don't try to smile," Gesha whispered as she walked alongside him, toward the raised platform where the Clan Elders waited. "It looks fake, like you're about to tear someone's throat out."

  He shot her a look, and she shrugged elegantly. "I'd rather you were happy, but since you're not, don't fake it. You're a terrible liar. Try looking stern, that'll play better than looking miserable with a grin on."

  At least that tells me where I stand, he thought. And she's right, I'll never fool anyone. Dropping the smile, he tried to look at the bright side — she was trying to help with the politics, and he'd clearly need all the help he could get.

  Tark walked ahead of the couple, stepping up onto the platform between the Elders and turning to face Davor and Gesha as they reached it. Looking around at the crowd he beamed a huge smile at them, waving as they cheered. Davor had to admit that there was something impressive about his control of his Clan, but it wasn't something he'd want to emulate. They cheered him without thought, without reason, just because he was there. And because of what he'd do to them if they didn't cheer.

  "My people," he said, and there was instant silence as he spoke. "I have called you here to witness this, the joining of my daughter Gesha and Davor, bold warrior and treasured guest of our Clan. Together, let them take up my quest to bring the sea of stars into the hands of the Fire Wolves."

  He gestured, and Gesha urged Davor forward with her. Tark stood over them, raising a hand over each of their heads and looking at the crowd. "As Ard of our Clan, I make this match — and if there is anyone who objects, let them speak now and say why."

  Silence hung in the air, and Davor wasn't surprised. Who would dare challenge Tark here and now? No one so much as breathed for fear of it being taken as an objection. The pause stretched for one heartbeat, two, and then Tark drew breath to continue.

  "I object!" The shout didn't come from the crowd, but from the ridge above the village, carrying clearly through the silence. Davor's head snapped up as he recognized the voice. Helen! What have you done?

  She stood there, silhouetted against the sky with spear in hand, and his heart leaped with joy even as his blood froze. She looked like a vision from a heroic saga, staring down at her enemies with a sun behind her. The sea of Fire Wolf warriors turned to look at her as she pointed the spear down at the dais.

  "Get away from my mate," she shouted, and the passion and anger in her voice were enough to make Gesha flinch away from Davor. Then Tark regained his composure enough to speak.

  "Kill her," he ordered in a flat, disinterested tone. Six of the Fire Wolf warriors turned and threw open the village gates, running up the hill toward Helen. She advanced toward them steadily, showing no hint of fear, and Davor tensed to leap to her defense. It would be futile to fight — the crowd of warriors between them would never let him reach her, but he couldn't stand and watch his mate torn to pieces.

  Karak grabbed hold of him before he could move, and he spun, planting a punch into the Fire Wolf's gut and trying to pull away. Karak held on grimly, refusing to let go, hate flashing in his eyes. Then Gesha took hold of Davor's other arm, and he was struggling against two. It was too late, he'd never reach Helen in time to save her.

  The warriors racing up the hill toward her shifted, circling to hit her from both sides so that they could keep clear of the spear she held. Davor's heart stopped as they closed in, and with a frantic pull he tore free of the grip his captors had on him. Leaping from the platform, he crouched ready to charge.

  He was hopelessly far away, and the whole Fire Wolf Clan stood between him and his mate. Helen's spear kept one of the warriors at bay but the others moved around her and Davor knew that she only had seconds before they swarmed her.

  The closest of the wolves gathered himself to pounce when a deafening howl sounded from behind the ridge. The dozens of voices in unison, calling a battlecry that froze everyone in the village in their tracks. Davor couldn't believe his ears as he heard the sound of his Clan going to war.

  Charging over the hill, the Silver Sea Clan came to Helen's rescue. The Fire Wolves who'd circled behind Helen were overwhelmed before they could turn to face their attackers, and then his Clanmates poured down the hill, Helen running in their midst. Running to Davor's rescue.

  Davor stood frozen in shock. Around him, so did the Fire Wolf warriors. No one could have expected this, or planned for it. Before anyone could react, the first Silver Sea warriors had reached the open gates and were charging into the village.

  "Don't just stand there," Tark shouted, fury boiling in his voice. "Destroy them!"

  His words were enough to dispel the surprised paralysis holding the Fire Wolf warriors at bay. Shifting or grabbing up weapons, they rushed to meet the charge with a howl of fury. Davor took a split-second to count, and saw that his Clanmates had no chance. They were outnumbered too heavily even with the element of surprise on their side. And they had to know that, themselves.

  That didn't hold them back, though, and it made Davor's heart sing to see them come. They were taking a foolish risk, but they would die warriors, and he would die with them. That lifted the terrible weight of his choice from him, and he roared to the attack.

  The grips on his arms weakened as Karak and Gesha stared slack-jawed at the attack, and Davor seized his chance. Kicking backward, he slammed a foot into Karak’s stomach. As Karak dropped to the ground, Davor wrenched his other arm free of Gesha’s grip and leaped away before either of them could recover their wits.

  The warriors below weren't expecting him, focused on the attackers charging down the hill, and he smashed into a pair of Fire Wolves. Stunning one with a punch, he bore the other to the ground with his body weight. With a sickening crack the man's arm twisted backward and he howled in agony — he was out of the fight, and Davor moved on.

  With a roar of fury, Karak pounced on him from behind, sending Davor sprawling against one of the feasting tables. Slamming an elbow backward Davor was rewarded with a crunch as he connected hard with the other warrior's ribs. Turning, he lashed out with a series of punches, driving Karak back. This time, no one will be able to say it wasn't a fair fight.

  Karak snatched up a knife and howled a challenge as he closed again, but Davor twisted out of the way and grabbed his wrist. With a vicious twist, he threw Karak to the ground and followed him down. Around them, Fire Wolves ran this way and that, panicking as for once it was their home under attack.

  With all his strength, Davor twisted Karak's knife hand around until the blade pointed at Karak's own throat. Then he began to push.

  The other warrior's eyes went wide, and he did his best to resist. But Davor's strength wouldn't be denied, and the knife edged slowly downward.

  "Please," Karak gasped, "don't—"

  "You threatened my mate," Davor said simply, and put his full weight behind the blade. Its point was keen and it
slid into Karak's neck with hardly any resistance. A feeling of triumph filled Davor's heart as he saw the light go out in his enemy's eyes. Leaving the blade pinning Karak to the ground, Davor stood and bared his teeth in a challenge to the surrounding foes. No matter what happened now, he had avenged the attack on his Helen. He could die happy.

  If only Helen wasn't going to fall with me, this would be the perfect day to die, Davor thought, charging headlong into the first Fire Wolf warrior who met his gaze. His impact smashed the foe into a table and Davor paused to slam his head against the hard wood. The warrior went limp, and Davor turned to look for the next enemy. Instead, his eyes caught one of the slaves who stood shocked and staring, paralyzed by fear. A wild hope flared in his heart.

  Leaping onto the table, Davor looked at the fighting that swirled around him. The Silver Sea were giving better than they got, their surprise attack carrying them into the village, but the Fire Wolves' superior numbers were starting to tell. Tark gathered his guards around him, ready to charge, and they'd be enough to finish the battle quickly if no one stopped them.

  That's down to me, then.

  Davor raised his eyes beyond them, at the slaves gathered behind the Fire Wolves.

  "This is our chance," he shouted. "There won't be another. Fight for your freedom, for your Clans, and kill these bastards!"

  It wasn't much of a speech, that wasn't his strength. For a moment he thought that the fear that had been beaten into the prisoners was enough to keep them tamed, even now. But then Samsar yelled a wordless battlecry. Launching the jug of wine he was carrying into the mass of Fire Wolves he followed it, fists swinging. That broke the barrier, and like a tidal wave the prisoners rushed in to follow.

  They weren't all warriors, but long months of physical labor had made them strong and the anger that had built up in their hearts overflowed into a furious assault. Caught between the two forces, the Fire Wolves reeled in shock and began to falter. Davor grinned a feral snarl of a smile, preparing to leap into the fray.