Bloodlust

by Nicole Zoltack

  She turned to leave, but he again tugged her to him. "No secrets," he murmured.

  "That's reserved for you and your people." Ivy avoided his gaze. "We should go."

  The group, still somewhat traveling separately, marched on the rest of the day. When night approached, they circled around two fires, still keeping their distance from each other. Lukor watched as Ivy returned to her people.

  Karrina appeared from nowhere. "Stop staring."

  "Let them talk," he grumbled.

  "They are beginning to suspect, and it's not good."

  "I am Golock. Do not presume—"

  "I will be golempress when you are dead." Her tone held no maliciousness. "Think, Lukor. If we succeed, if we kill the elves, and maybe the trolls, they will be so relieved they just might accept her. But not now. You've waited so long. Wait a little longer."

  Damn Karrina and her irrefutable logic.

  Luckily for her sake, she wandered off. Lukor spared one last glance at Ivy. The glow of the fire illuminated her, the whiteness of her dress lending her an ethereal air. She had captured his heart.

  Now it was up to his sword arm to protect the rest of his body and that of hers and their people, as she was willing to do for them all as well.

  Only two more days until they reached Luna Ford.

  Two more days until many of them breathed no more.

  Night crept upon the Scandavia Mountains, warm but comfortable. Surprisingly, a good amount of moon and starlight littered through the green leaves of the tall trees. Peaceful insects serenaded them with soft music. A firebug burped out a speck of fire, so small it could never threaten such a magnificent forest.

  Hopefully none present were being lulled into a sense of security.

  Ivy breathed in deeply. The tangy, bitter emotion of fear hung in the air, a scent Ivy usually only smelled before killing her foes.

  She glanced over the two groups. Who accounted for the smell?

  A hand rested on her shoulder, and she patted the warm flesh, not having to turn to know who touched her. "Not here," she murmured and led Lukor a few feet toward the neutral ground between hers and his before locating a tree with many full lower branches whose smooth bark would pose no hindrance or harm to the fragile material of her dress.

  He overtook her and selected a branch high up, and she slid beside him. From here, they could both keep watch on their people and be hidden away with a measure of privacy.

  Lukor's fingers traced along her cheekbones before his hand rested on the curve of her neck. "I hope he suffered," he said, his voice full of emotion.

  "I hoped we wouldn't speak of him." Ivy leaned forward and teasingly brushed her lips just below his. "I hoped we wouldn't speak much at all."

  Her goliath pulled her closer, and her hands splayed across his beasty bare chest. His lips crushed against hers, alternatingly soft and firm, guiding her to a place she had never been before, exploring new and curious emotions. His fingers kneaded the muscles of her back through the thin material of her dress.

  She broke off a kiss. "You are mine," she whispered, back arched, head back.

  His tongue flicked against her neck, his breath warm, tickling her. "Or you are mine."

  Ivy leveled him a glance, lips pursed into a teasing little grin, head tilted, hair falling over her shoulders in waves. "We belong to each other."

  "So we shall." Lukor's voice had deepened, husky, and the sound teased Ivy, bringing her further into her body, into him.

  His hands teased along the soft material of her skirt. She tried to move it aside so he could touch her bare skin, but he must enjoy torture, for he smiled and continued feeling up her covered legs.

  "I love you," she whispered. Each admission came easier, an affirmation almost, as if she had to keep repeating it, for how else would he know how she felt?

  But his words told her differently. "I know." His head buried within her neck. His teeth prickled against her tender skin, but he did not nip at her, trailing a line of kisses around her neck like a piece of jewelry.

  Ivy's eyes went to close of her own accord when a sudden spark of movement below had her forcing Lukor back. "Hallo?" she murmured, almost to herself.

  Despite being many feet above the ground, Ivy jumped from branch to branch, and her feet touched the ground three seconds later. The tree shook, and she glanced up. Lukor remained on their branch, shaking his hand as if it pained him. Had he slapped the tree in frustration? She did not blame him. The muscles deep within her body clenched and released in an agonizing fashion. Whatever release he might have given her would have to wait.

  By the time she revealed her presence in the sparser section of the forest between their camps, Lukor had joined her. Several goliaths and goliathas were moving closer toward the barbarian encampment, the clanging of their weapons piercing the stillness of the night, waking any who might have been sleeping.

  "Go and rest." Lukor clapped his hands on one of the goliath's shoulders, avoiding the spikes on the armored shoulder sleeves.

  One exaggerated a sniff, his huge nostrils flailing. "Can you not smell it?"

  Ivy crossed her arms. She had never talked to anyone to see if they could also at times smell emotions. Could this goliath?

  "You'll get used to it."

  Ivy looked up at Lukor. He was amused. The goliath did not mean the scent of fear after all.

  She jabbed a finger against his chestplate. "If we have to put up with the stench of a people who wash—"

  Lukor tugged on her other wrist.

  Oh, right. How could she have forgotten? Sometimes, nay most of the time, with Lukor, she did not see yellow- and apple-green skin tones. She only saw Lukor. Nothing else.

  But the rest of his species...

  Still, considering Lukor was her future, she had to make peace with his people and their people had to accept each other. And trading insults would help not a whit.

  "Wash far more than is necessary," she continued, valiantly trying to keep a straight face, "we can all try to ignore the other race's smell and differences."

  "We might be allies today..." The goliath stood a few inches from her, his right eye twitching a little.

  "And tomorrow." Ivy couldn't help smiling.

  "Thul," Lukor warned.

  Ivy wanted to hold up her hand and address the issue herself, but it wasn't her place to.

  Yet.

  By now, a group of barbarians crowded Ivy's and Lukor's backsides.

  "Need a song sung so you can sleep?" Maul taunted.

  "Too nervous and can't sleep?" Saber added.

  Ivy shook her head. Males and their complex concerning machismo. In barbarians especially, it was heightened, and once they got started, it typically did not end until one or more was dead.

  She slipped in front of her barbarians. "We are all on edge."

  The goliath brought up his short sword.

  Ivy half-turned toward Maul. "Perhaps a song is just what we need to be able to come together and prepare for the upcoming battle, where we are allies." Now she fixed her gaze upon Thul.

  Maul jerked back as if she had drawn her weapon against him. "Sing?"

  "Aye," she said coolly, a warning in the word.

  "I will, O Barbaroness."

  Katar stepped forward. She had suspected that if any barbarian would stand beside her it would be Glaive, or even Springald, but on second thought, Katar had sung often years ago, when she and Orchid and he had been young and wild and without too many responsibilities.

  His blue-green eyes searched the trees and underbrush. After a moment, he closed his eyes, thrust out his chest, and rumbled:

  Through the forest glade,

  Where teal grass grows,

  Sits a stone fortress

  No wind blows.

  Proud and strong,

  Our fortress our rock

  Behind our barbaroness

  We shall flock.

  We might number few,

  But our might remains.
<
br />   We shall not falter

  As the moon wanes.

  Stand with us today,

  Fight with us tomorrow,

  We shall not fall.

  We'll feel no sorrow.

  All fell silent as the last long note faded. Ivy's heart swelled. Katar had changed the lyrics to some of the stanzas and completely added a new verse.

  "You have songs," the goliath Thul said.

  "We are not the savages you think we are." Ivy held her head high. She offered Katar a smile. The barbarian looked strong and noble, not the least bit sorrowful. The barbaroness inched toward him. "Thank you."

  "I did it for you. And her."

  Orchid. "Thank you," she repeated. How hard it must have been for him to sing when his favorite audience member could never be in attendance anymore.

  "Do you have songs?" Ivy directed her question to Lukor, reverting the conversation back on course.

  "None that you would like to hear." She did not miss the warning in his green eyes.

  "I'm surprised your songs aren't all about blood and crushing your enemies."

  That Thul was a troublemaker, wasn't he?

  Ivy merely shook her head. "Thinking of the trolls, I see."

  The goliaths and barbarians both laughed at that, and some of the tension disappeared. The two fractions returned to their groups and waited out the dawn.

  No sorrow. If only that would prove to be the truth.

  Luna Ford, so called because the only time this portion of Glass Springs was low enough for crossing was at night, and only certain nights. Luckily, this night, the stars had aligned, and the waters were low enough, at their knees compared to their necks.

  Unluckily, the trolls were nowhere to be seen.

  Lukor gnashed his teeth. Where were the blasted creatures?

  "We should not linger." Ivy slinked toward him in the darkness, easy to see in her white dress. Like an angel. An angel with a dark side.

  "Go?" he repeated, trying to keep his gaze from following the slit of her skirt and remembering how soft her skin felt against his hands.

  "Into Celestia Forest. We are a more than formidable force. How many goliaths have you brought with you?"

  Far more than half. And the roughly one hundred barbarians counted for much more than their number, capable of handling five or more foes at once — if said foes were not using trickery and magic against them.

  "We should wait. Especially with it being so dark and the forest so close. If the trolls are planning to ambush us..."

  Ivy crossed her arms, full lips pursed. "You never should have agreed to this."

  "I had to."

  She glanced away, staring at the waters. With each minute that passed, the water level rose slightly. Soon, it would be up to their hips.

  The goliaths and barbarians were actually mingling, somewhat, and the scent of blood did not fill the air, so mayhap strides were being made.

  Most likely not. Give them enough time, and they'd start attacking each other.

  Ivy's hand went to the hilt of her sword at her hip.

  "Anxious? Worried?"

  "I do not fear death." Her voice was low, her words carrying a ring of truth.

  "But the elves..."

  She rotated her head to look at him. His chest ached to see tears in her eyes. A blink and the tears disappeared, and he wondered if he saw them after all.

  "An elf spoke to me." Ivy fiddled with the hilt of her sword. "In the Spirit Realm. Foretold the end of..." She glanced behind them. Their people were far enough away, talking too loudly to overhear them. "The end of the barbarian race."

  "No." Lukor grabbed her bare elbow, below her armored shoulder and above her arm bracer. "I will not allow that to happen. Not to your people. Not to you."

  "That's just it. What if my bringing them here ensures their deaths? What if I am playing into the prophecy?"

  "You aren't worried for yourself."

  "Because the elf also spoke of a new race."

  The words repeated in his mind, and at first, he could not contemplate what she meant. When realization dawned, hope surged in his chest. "You mean we..."

  She nodded. "I assume so. We can start a new race. But if the only way for that to happen is for the barbarians to die... I cannot allow that to happen. The elf who healed me looked exactly like the one who prophesized to me. I think he will ensure we live and survive, if only to reproduce."

  "If we succeed and kill off all the elves, the chances of finding a way for the barbarian race to continue on are halved. But there still is hope." He could not bear seeing her so saddened.

  "If a human could find love with one of them, not all hope is lost."

  The cane in Lukor's hand grew warm. "They're here."

  He whirled around to see the barbarians and goliaths had parted, no longer mixed, with trolls approaching through the opening. The skuleader stopped in front of Lukor.

  "See you good deal."

  "Yes. I keep my word." Lukor winced inwardly. Perhaps war wasn't the answer. Could the trolls be trusted once the treacherous elves were destroyed? Strange, he had wanted the destruction of the barbarians for so long because he had erroneously believed one had murdered his sister. Now he'd been told a troll had, but he found it hard to believe that one of their race was capable of engineering tampered evidence.

  No. He would not be surprised if the actual murderer had been Balog himself.

  Still, the possibility remained that a troll had killed her. Even so, the anger and rage he had survived on for so long had dissipated.

  Ivy's fingers touched the back of his palm, and he wondered if she would agree to his thoughts. She so wanted her people to live. Would she extend that to another race, even one as dangerous as the trolls? Revenge had to be a far stronger emotion for barbarians to handle and overcome than anyone else.

  The skuleader was already wading through Luna Ford. Ivy clasped Lukor's hand, and the two crossed together. By the time they stepped onto the other bank, the water was waist-high. Despite the hordes of their combined armies, the trolls and goliaths and barbarians all crossed, the last few submerged up to their chins.

  The roar of Rustic Falls from the east filled Lukor's ears. Then the sound slowly faded away, and he heard the rustling of clothing, the whisper of blades being unsheathed. Twenty yards in front of them stood Celestia Forest, the elves' homeland.

  All of them, thousands, stood silent, ready, willing, waiting. The three leaders held still at the front. Ivy, true to her word, did not look the least bit frightened. When she had spoken to him, he had read in her eyes that the thought had crossed her mind that the elf who had healed her might kill her out of spite for what they planned this night. But she did not care. She die before following the whims of another. That was why she killed her father. It would also make their vow, once they did pledge their lives to one another, all the sweeter, for she, and no one else, not that elf, deciding her fate.

  Regardless of the outcome of the battle, Ivy had to live. The last female barbarian.

  The skuleader took a large step forward.

  A brilliant light shot out from within the forest, straight into the air, casting such a shine on their surroundings 'twas as if the sun had turned white and appeared in the nighttime sky.

  Lukor gripped his axe and his falchion and moved to stand beside the skuleader again.

  Ivy only held her sword in one hand, the other empty, as she stood between the two males.

  As if the entire world held its breath, the roar of the waters ceased and the insects and other nocturnal animals halted. An arrow flew out of the trees. Ivy plucked it out of the air and dropped it onto her blade, slicing it in half.

  "We are here," she said, not bothering to raise her voice.

  "Come and get us," Lukor finished.

  With a savage scream, the skuleader rushed toward the entrance of Celestia Woods. Two trees several feet apart arched to form a natural doorway, flowers blooming at the top. Elves appeared on either sid
e, throwing daggers and blades, even petals and plants. Trolls, goliaths, and barbarians all rushed forward. A pink flower landed on a troll's chest armor. The bone melted away, and the troll shrieked as if burned.

  In the heat of the battle, Lukor lost sight of Ivy, but his thoughts, and his heart, remained with her. He parried and sliced and ducked beneath blades of both his foes' and his allies' for the quarters of the forest were so tight that the chances of accidental attacks were most likely not uncommon.

  A jolt on his back jarred his body, and Lukor whirled around. An elf had slammed a mace into his back. Had to have left a nasty dent in his armor. As he turned to face his foe, Lukor brought up his axe and the blade sank deeply into the elf's torso. The smell of bile and blood filled the air. The elf staggered and dropped to the ground.

  Lukor had to tuck away his falchion and use both hands to retrieve his axe. Before he had succeeded, a twig snapped behind him. He whipped out his falchion and threw it, reacting before thought. What if he had thrown his weapon at an ally?

  But he hadn't. The curved blade chopped the elf's thick wooden bow nearly in half, but the arrow had already been loosed. Lukor rolled to the side, but the arrow nicked his leg. A scarlet ribbon of blood flowed from the wound. Despite a twinge of pain, Lukor scrambled to his feet, freed his axe, and tore after the elf, who had dropped the ruined bow, falchion still embedded within it, and was running deeper into the forest.

  Pausing to grab the falchion and bow, Lukor gave chase. He banged his hand against a massive tree hard enough that the bow loosened and fell. With a burst of speed, Lukor shoved the elf into a tree trunk. He placed the double-bladed axe onto his own back and held the elf by his neck.

  "Don't like having others decide your fate, do you?" He snarled.

  The elf closed his pale red eyes, and Lukor twisted his neck. Dead, the elf collapsed at his feet.

  The golock glanced around him. The clanging of weapons clashing, the screams and cries of the fallen came from every direction. Up ahead, to the east, a clearing caught his eye, and Lukor armed himself before approaching it, trying to still his breathing, listening for any signs of friend or foe.