The SAVAGE Series, Books 1-3: The Pearl Savage, The Savage Blood and The Savage Principle

by Blodgett, Tamara Rose

  He stood, making sure Anna was secure by seating her upon the bench.

  “Would you stay with them until we send someone when things are ascertained?”

  He nodded, then looked at the others of the Band.

  “Someone must guard the females that are too weak to travel,” Bracus said logically, tactfully leaving out the fact that both Clarence and Charles would have had a tough go as well.

  Charles looked defeated and Clara's heart ached for him. But they must go to the sphere. She turned away from that look and with a hand motion from Bracus, they left.

  *

  Philip looked back at Sarah, his intent obvious. He did not wish to leave her here in the tunnel with only one of the Band for protection. Yet, what lay ahead of them was unknown as well.

  He was needed.

  He tucked her in beside Anna, her head resting on Anna's lap.

  He ran after the others, his duty before him, his heart behind.

  CHAPTER 30

  Clara heard the screams before she saw the scene which greeted her. The pleas and shouts were horrible. Matthew took her behind him, the Band spreading into a V-formation with Bracus at its point. Rowenna stood at his side, her dirk naked in her left hand.

  He looked at her for the briefest moment. “Fight by my side so I do not become distracted thinking of your welfare.”

  She held his gaze for a heartbeat then nodded.

  Clara saw that the suspended clock had been ruptured, a great fissure had spread and shattered its beauty, a casualty of the violence. The fragment having killed every man in sight, they lay bleeding and torn all around.

  Clara knew a rage unlike anything she had ever experienced. These were her people and they were being killed for no reason.

  Save greed.

  A heat began in her torso and spread out to the tips of her body, the very roots of her hair felt on fire. She charged forward into the melee.

  *

  Matthew watched as Clara surged forward, rage contorting her face and was instantly by her side, preemptively striking the first fragment before she could be in his path. He used his longsword and with a downward sweep severed the arm at the shoulder. It fell off and the fragment, his mouth an “O” of surprise, fell to the side as a boat without a rudder.

  He jerked Clara to her feet and launched her behind him roughly, giving himself swinging room. He located Edwin, battling three fragment, the other of the Band avoiding bleeding bodies, two deep in some spots.

  Clara stumbled backward, nearly falling, trying to keep Matthew's broad back in sight while she kept a distance that allowed him to defend. Everywhere she looked the cobblestones of the street of her youth held blood, it ran in the cracks and crevices like a stream of life now lost.

  Her mother and Bracus fought, their backs touching, an uncanny dance of intimate battle ensued. A male of the fragment would approach Bracus and he would swing Rowenna around to meet the enemy with a blade.

  Her blade.

  Clara watched as her mother swung it high as Bracus wrapped his hand on her forearm, giving her momentum. Rowenna brought the longsword down as she came about the front of him, the curved portion biting the flesh of the enemy. Bracus swung his dirk into the thigh of another, severing the precious artery that ran the junction of thigh to body. The fragment toppled, his blood spraying out as a geyser.

  Clara backed away from the scene, her breaths coming quickly. It smacked so much of the battle with the fragment Outside one year past it was as though she relived it now.

  She saw Matthew turn to gauge her position and his mouth opened in a scream. She could not hear what he said but saw her name upon his lips and turned to see what lay behind her.

  Prince Frederic stood just behind her, upon his neck stood a grievous slash, the flesh an angry red gash, healed badly. She stood completely still for one moment, then turned. He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her completely off her feet. She screamed and it was swallowed in the clang of swords and thump of flesh smacking flesh.

  Her fear choked her, she could not get breath in her body. She felt her gills burst from her flesh and sweet oxygen filled her lungs. She did what she had seen the Band do and swung her head backward into the Prince's nose. A satisfying crunch sounded, making her ears ring and head swim.

  She began to lose consciousness as she felt him connect his fist with her face. She slipped to the ground and began to crawl away from him, her vision trembling before her as her palms maneuvered ground fouled by blood and gore.

  He came after her, his face a mass of blood, the cartilage of his nose revealed as dull ivory. He had a dagger in his hand as he bore down upon her.

  She rolled onto her back, her hand slapping the ground behind her in a futile search for something to help her. A weapon.

  Anything.

  He landed on her body, straddling her. She could hear Matthew and Edwin approach, screaming her name.

  They would not make it in time. She watched as Prince Frederic raised the dagger, the soft light of the sphere causing the blade to flash silver. A drop of blood from his nose trembled on his jaw then fell to land on her breastbone.

  Time hung suspended.

  A figure loomed behind Frederic and an arcing blade came down just as his blade made its descent for her heart.

  A fist punched the blade away as it grazed the flesh of her bosom just as a dagger struck the meat of the Prince's throat, the hilt an obscene flag standing at attention at his neck. He gurgled, clawing at the dagger.

  Clara watched as his crazed eyes flooded with the knowledge of his death.

  And she was glad of it, a fierce joy squeezing her heart with his imminent demise.

  She watched the figure kick the body of the Prince off her where he lay, gasping for breath beside her.

  Daniel looked down at Clara, thinking that he had never done something he felt better about in his life.

  He also saw how beautiful she was as she lay there, how alive.

  *

  Clara rolled over and away from Prince Frederic and saw Matthew and Edwin circle Daniel. He looked at them and unsheathed his matching daggers as he faced them, one in each hand.

  “No!” Clara croaked, rising to her shaky feet.

  Matthew's eyes flicked to hers, his fist bleeding freely from where it had connected with the blade meant for her heart.

  “Do not!” she wailed, running to Daniel. They did not know that he had spared her much from before.

  She slithered between the men and crashed into Daniel, her legs giving way from weakness and injury. He scooped her up against him. His eyes searching his opponents.

  “Drop the Queen, fragment,” Matthew said in a conversational tone.

  “If I'd wanted to hurt her, I could've,” Daniel responded in the same way.

  Matthew felt a strange tingle begin at his words, but left his weapon at attention.

  “Let her loose or suffer the blade. Ours do not have enough blood, we would be happy to add yours,” Edwin said, his eyes shifting to Clara, hanging onto consciousness by a thread.

  “He is not...” Clara began, struggling with staying alert so they would not cut him down. “He is not as he seems.”

  Matthew and Daniel regarded each other. The heat of recognition ignited in their bodies.

  Matthew's blade dipped and he straightened. Edwin looked at him. “What say you? This is our enemy and he holds that which is most precious.”

  Matthew nodded and looked into Daniel's eyes. “What say you?”

  “Brother,” Daniel said, sheathing his blade and picking Clara up into his arms.

  Brother? Clara thought as her body sucked her under into a blanket of healing unconsciousness.

  CHAPTER 31

  Clara came awake in stages. She felt battered and ached but the battle was over, her people safe.

  She opened her eyes and it was precious Olive who greeted her. “I say, you are in deplorable condition,” she said, softening her words with a smile.

&nb
sp; Clara grinned. It was divine to be home. “Yes,” Clara croaked out, agreeing, as Olive brought her a cup of water.

  “How fare you, Queen Clara?”

  Clara thought it through, wiggling her bare feet under the covers, noticing her familiar nightgown was encasing her tired body. “Very well, thank you, Olive”

  No one but she and Olive were in her chamber and Clara sighed with relief. It was good to come to herself and regain her bearings. She had many questions but she would bathe and eat, then address the myriad of horrors which awaited.

  “I have drawn a bath. I had a sense of when you may awaken.”

  Olive had been her attendant following the beatings, she knew the symptoms of consciousness. It was a horrible knowledge but one bred through experience.

  Clara made her shaky way to the necessary and its bathing apparatus.

  She sunk to her armpits in the copper tub, the steam rising in fragrant swirls of heat about her and sighed. She did not think she would ever come clean from what they had just gone through.

  What her people had just gone through.

  Olive studied her face and her smile that had been so ready, faded.

  “How many?” Clara asked directly.

  “Many,” Olive whispered, intuiting Clara's inference.

  Clara leaned back until her head rested on the back of the basin, the copper warm and alive, conducting and keeping the heat of the water easily. She spoke to the ceiling, “How long have I been unconscious?”

  “Only but a few hours this go,” Olive said. Then added, “The men ask of you.”

  “Which?” Clara asked, rolling her head to the side to look at Olive.

  She blushed and responded, “Matthew and Bracus, of course. But there is a new one of the Band Edwin. They hold another prisoner...” she trailed off.

  Clara gripped the rim of the tub and lurched unsteadily to her knees, her vision streaming and distorted. She drew a deep breath. “Who do they detain?”

  Olive shrugged. “It is one of the fragment. It matters not,” she said in a dismissive tone.

  Clara stood, the water dripping from her body, the soap clinging to her, rivulets of water cascading back into the tub. “It does matter,” she said, her voice fierce. “If it be Daniel of the fragment, it is because of him and only him that I remained unharmed during my time with them. I must see him! I must make testimony of his worth. He is not as the others. And mayhap there is something else as well...”

  “My Queen,” Olive hesitated then put her palm on Clara's back. “Finish your bath, eat some food,” her eyes raked over Clara's form, noting the collarbone which protruded from her skin, every rib in stark relief. “You grow too slender, even for you.”

  Clara allowed herself to sink back into the tub. Inside the turmoil boiled. She must find Daniel and make sure he was safe. She must find out what he and Matthew's connection was.

  She must attend to the dead.

  Her people would be properly buried, her lower lip trembling.

  *

  Clara had been almost rude suffering through the ministrations of Olive. The brushing of the hair, endless. The dressing, interminable. Finally, when she could bear no more, she fled. She realized she did not look royal, that her crown and pearl adornments were not in place, she cared not. She swiftly made her way out of her chamber and down the hall toward the great Gathering Room.

  When she entered, all conversation stopped and her face effused with heat, the attention causing her to blush.

  “Queen Clara,” Bracus said formally and she flew into his arms as if they were alone and not surrounded by half the kingdom.

  He smiled down at her with affection that was untainted with heat. He had found his mate in her mother and she was happy for him. Yet she cared for him deeply and was most glad to see him. There were gasps from the onlookers and murmurings but Clara did not care. She searched the faces that were near to her and saw Rowenna, Matthew and Edwin. They made their way to her side, each of the men taking a hand and Bracus released her, sliding his arm around Rowenna's waist.

  Matthew physically checked her body for harm until she told him to stop. “I am fine, Matthew, do not fret.”

  Edwin smiled, thinking himself having much restraint as to not paw her in public.

  Clara smiled as she watched Edwin's expression. He did not know Matthew as she. He simply did not care who was about. When something lay on his heart, he was one to show it and did not embrace words readily.

  Rowenna smiled and said, “I am so happy to see Raymond's home that he spoke of and to be with you, my daughter.”

  Clara turned in the circle of arms which held her, her skirts twirling around her ankles. “How do my people fare?” she directed at Bracus.

  His smile faded. “We have but half who remain, Clara.”

  Clara staggered backward. “The fragment killed half of all who reside in the sphere?”

  She grew dizzy and Matthew and Edwin held her up. Half?

  Half.

  She had not gotten to them in time. She must have made some sound for it was Charles who took her into his arms as she lay limply in his embrace. She had been shuffled from one man to the next and could not come to terms with the news. When would she ever?

  “Clara,” Charles whispered into her hair, “I am so sorry.”

  She pulled away, her eyes glossing with tears. “Who?”

  His eyes met Bracus', then Matthew's, returning to hers. “Half our males, Clara. The fragment focused their killing on the males.”

  “Our females and children?” Clara gulped, barely able to form the question.

  Charles shook his head. “Some are battered, but alive.”

  Clara wobbled over to the nearest chair, taking a seat not on the dais and throne, her rightful position, but whatever was near and sturdy.

  She looked up at the Band. “What of Daniel?”

  Matthew looked away then back at her. “He is to be executed for what has transpired here.”

  “No!” Clara roared, startling those around her. “I will not allow it!”

  Edwin and Bracus looked confused but it was Matthew she turned to with an accusing stare. “He is more than fragment and you know this!”

  Bracus looked at Matthew. “What say you?”

  Matthew looked uncomfortable but answered, “I felt kinship recognition, Captain.”

  Bracus moved forward. “What?”

  “He is my kin.”

  “How is this possible?” Edwin asked and Rowenna frowned.

  “He is fragment,” she scoffed.

  Matthew looked at everyone and slowly shook his head. “No, he is Band. Somehow, we are kin.”

  Clarence came forward. “I do not give a fig what he is. He partook in the murder of the subjects of the Kingdom of Ohio and as such he must pay for his crimes.” Charles nodded in agreement and Clara scowled at him.

  Maddoc came between the men. “How is it that he rides with the fragment and battles at their side and now you say he is Band?” A blond head peeked out from underneath his arm and that was the first that Clara got a good look at Evelyn's face and her breath stuck in her throat. She had been woefully abused.

  Before she could inquire, Matthew explained, “My mother and I were taken when I was but a wee boy,” he made a show of how tall he was and Clara thought maybe just two years. “I was raised by the fragment until Bracus and his father came upon me after I attempted to escape when I was but ten and two years.”

  Distrust crept into the expressions of everyone from the Band of Cape Cod. Bracus held up a hand. “Matthew is beyond reproach. But it was never learned what became of his mother,” he said meaningfully. “We assumed she had met a final end that was possibly unpleasant.” He gave a sympathetic look at Matthew whose stony face showed nothing.

  “It may be that Daniel is somehow mixed up in a future we were unaware of. As it is, we know very little about him.”

  Clara stood. “He may be one of the Band. Having lived amongst the fragm
ent his whole life, thinking he was other than he was as we stand about here in conjecture. Let us go!”

  The Band and Clara all but ran to the only cell in the sphere.

  To Daniel.

  To answers.

  CHAPTER 32

  Daniel had been beaten rather soundly and lay on the cot that was attached by knotted brass chains fastened to scaffolding that hung just inside the sphere wall. His lips were chapped and the hide of his knuckles shredded from beating his assailants. It'd taken three of the Band to subdue him and he'd gotten plenty of hits in before he could no longer stand, even now they may wear the evidence of his fists.

  He looked about his strange environment with curiosity. The fragment had always seen the view of the sphere from the outside. It appeared as a great, milky globe which lay upon the ground in opaque form. But now that he was inside of it, his senses were struck with how homelike it was, a cocoon. He knew the walls to be impenetrable but they looked fragile, like soft clouds come to earth.

  He folded an elbow behind his head as a pillow, wincing as the skin of his hand rubbed against a woolen blanket.

  Far off in the distance he heard many footsteps approaching. He leaped to his feet, his hands moving in front of his body in a fighter's stance.

  The first face he saw was Clara's and he straightened, dropping his hands.

  *

  Clara rounded the corner and caught sight of Daniel's face.

  His swollen and battered face. She knew the look of fists upon flesh and understood immediately he had been beaten. One eye was swollen shut, a cut prominently displayed on his nose and his knuckles as he dropped his hands were a bloody disaster.

  She tore the key ring down from its hook opposite the cell door and in one smooth motion she turned it and flung open the door.