"Four logs!" he shouted, and the crowd gasped. He skipped three, knew full well the two guys couldn't pick them up if they could barely do two. The two men hustled as Ryan showboated by flexing his build with yet a different pose. They lifted the two remaining logs with strained effort, one at a time and stacked them. Then they used the last of their rope to lash all four darkwood logs together. They tested and retested the knots, then backed up and away without even trying to give all four a lift.
Ryan crouched and waddled beneath the logs between the two stacks of bricks. He didn't have to call for silence, it felt like the crowd of people were holding their breath. Each person there knew what those things weighed. No matter how big the unusual man was, he couldn't possibly be strong enough to lift that load.
The logs balanced evenly across his shoulders, Ryan straightened his legs. A little more than four hundred pounds lifted up off the bricks. As the strain on his face kept him from shouting this time, the audience shouted for him. He knew what he wanted to do next. He had done it only once before without Myra ever knowing about it so he wouldn't get another one of her loving lectures. Her memory flooded his system with extra adrenaline and balancing his hands beneath the lashed darkwood logs, his biceps bunched and the veins looked like they were about to explode through his deeply tanned skin.
Ryan straightened his arms and locked his elbows and then hollered like a wild animal. The crowd screamed with a mixture of delight and wonder at the impossible feat of strength made real before their eyes. He struggled to turn to Darya who was on the edge of her seat, alarmed and frenzied with her mouth dropping open but still saying nothing. Then he let the logs fall to the ground behind him and they landed just shy of the twin stack of bricks. The thud they made was felt through the ground all the way to Darya's own feet.
Without waiting for the crowd to stop cheering, he walked over to the two nervous women. Both had dark blue hair and they did look quick on their feet. He leaned forward and dropped his head so their pointed ears would catch his words and knew the crowd's noise would make sure nobody else could hear, not even the listeners.
"Remember my instructions," he told them both. "I don't care if you can beat your queen in a foot race or not, she must win without knowing you two let it happen. Nobody must know but us three, you know damn well she will kill you both if one of you wins instead. Got it?" They both nodded their understanding.
When he turned and walked towards Darya, she was on her feet with a suspicious gleam in her eyes, the shock mostly gone but still present in her stiffened body language. As he got close enough to be heard over the cheering crowd which was winding down its excitement level, she hissed at him. "What did you tell those two?"
"That if they didn't run with all their speed when racing you," he lied smoothly, "I would come and find them and their families. That death would be a merciful release they wouldn't earn for some time to come. Their screams would be my music and their bones my instruments. In other words, my lovely queen, they fear me more than they fear you for the moment. Look at how powerful I showed them I can be. They will race you with the intent to win."
"I did not agree I would race," she scolded him, eyes flashing a moment of anger. It dissolved quickly as she was distracted by his muscular form. He slid smoothly around her, his hands on her hips. He gently turned her to face the two women at the track's starting line, then leaned her back into him for a reverse hug. The crowd was going crazy at the display of affection he gave her, and he lowered his lips to her delicate pointed ear from behind.
"Look at them," he spoke with his best soothing baritone. "Two little girls terrified for their lives if they lose are going to race you. I know you can do this, my beautiful queen. I know you can beat them, because you would make the best woman ever to bear my child." Then to make his point, he placed a deliberately powerful nibble on the side of her long graceful throat. He felt her inhale sharply at the unexpected sensation.
He let Darya go and took her hand by interlacing her long fingers with his own. He walked with her to the starting line and the two other nervous looking women had a deep sense of fear in their eyes. Perfect, just like he planned. Afraid for different reasons, the secret they shared over their queen fit his lie like a glove.
Uncertain and hesitant, Darya looked around at the crowd. Speechless at his public display of affection, especially since he really didn't show it before in private, her resolve suddenly firmed up and she delivered a short nod.
"When I drop my arm you three run like the wind," he said boldly. "Go around the track and stay inside the ropes. The first woman who reaches me a second time will be the winner." He raised his arm and smiled at Darya, gave her a knowing nod of approval. Her gaze at him was again unreadable, he wished he could read her thoughts, get a feel as to how much of an impact he was truly having. "Get ready," he warned. Three women tensed up and leaned forward. Two commoners and their queen were about to compete. The crowd was eating it up, never before had such an event been witnessed in their lifetime. "Go!" he boomed as loudly and deeply as possible.
Ryan almost forgot how fast these women could run, remembering the swiftness of his dear Myra. His heart ached for her, wishing his plan didn't have to be so elaborate to be effective. He had to build up Darya's confidence in him, had to work to make her think she was important to him on new levels of affection every day that passed. He had to make sure without a doubt that this evil queen needed to have him approve of her, and that he wanted to give that approval. He placed her in these sudden situations and knew she made tremendous allowances for him, thinking he didn't know any better.
The two women knew what they were about as Darya struggled to stay ahead of them both during the first lap. Strong determination to win thrilling through her veins, he also knew this lovely creature running to his manipulative tune was going through a unique experience of her own. This moment was the final hurdle and he had gotten her through it.
Three women passed him like flashes of different colored lightning, then the crowd did something unexpected. They started to chant their queen's name. "Dar-ya! Dar-ya! Dar-ya!" Ryan didn't know if she could hear them or not being so focused on the race, he had no idea how such a woman would respond to it.
As designed, the two women started to slack off their speed halfway around the second pass, making sure Darya had a lead on them. They did it slowly, not being obvious about their position and making it look like they were running out of stamina. While they knew the race was rigged, the queen didn't and that is what was important in this set up. She flashed past Ryan and skidded to a halt, turned just in time to see the other two puffing to a stop next to him. Then she heard the crowd chanting her name and he got to see an amazing change within her.
Surprise and joy mixed together across her face and she started to bounce, then looked at him with an incredible amount of honest happiness for one who ruled so ruthlessly. "I won!" she screamed at him. "I really won!"
She rushed Ryan and jumped up to hug him as hard as possible. He caught and boosted her up higher into his arms and he returned her happy as hell expression as she gazed down on him. Legs around his waist with his hands supporting her incredible ass, slender sweet arms circled his neck as she lowered her lips onto his. This time the kiss was deep and electric, her tongue all but vibrating in his mouth due to the thrill of success coupled with the high adrenaline rush.
Again he was highly aware that she's a gorgeous woman beyond reckoning, pressed against him and involved in an amazing kiss with a perfect set of feminine lips. In his mind, with his eyes closed and sighing happily, he wasn't kissing Darya. He had Myra there, and he packed all his feelings for his darling wife into his lip locked response. It was the only way he could ensure the proper depth of affection without seeming to be fake. As far as he could tell, the deception worked better than he had hoped. She all but shivered in his arms.
Darya looked up with high satisfaction after the potent kiss to catch her breath, head whipping lef
t and right to review her cheering people. They were still chanting and she started to laugh. Not the fake forced laugh, but the real thing backed by true emotions that flowed as naturally as water does down a crisp mountain stream. She relished the moment and Ryan couldn't have asked for a better outcome to his scheme. "Dar-ya! Dar-ya!"
Ryan's eyes also scanned the crowd, pleased perhaps a bit too much with his own efforts. The people were romping it up, fists still in the air and lungs filled with wild cheering. Because of the happy mayhem, a lone figure stood out from under one of the lower balconies. If everyone else hadn't been moving, the figure wouldn't have attracted one ounce of notice. The bubble of stillness that was projected was almost ethereal in the sea of chaos.
He recognized Nera because of her long light blue hair. She wore battle armor and had removed her helmet so he could recognize her. Upon squinting to see better he could tell she was giving him a scathing look of disapproval. A cheering nutcase cut off his view on the other side of the rope for a moment. By the time he had bounced out of the way a few seconds later, she was gone.
Chapter Twenty Five - Unexpected News
After dinner Darya still couldn't stop talking about the event he had staged that morning. "Did you hear them chanting my name?" She asked everyone she came across in the palace, eyes huge with an almost child like wonder. It took Ryan only a few minutes to realize she never heard her name honestly acclaimed by a supporting crowd before. All of her support had been given by fear, now it was honest and clean, the sincere accolades had a huge effect on her disposition. From the lowest floor sweeper to an arriving General Tiz'Ben to let his queen know the war room was staffed and waiting to finalize the invasion plans, she asked yet again, "Did you hear them chanting my name?"
"Yes, my queen," Tiz'Ben replied, giving the large guy a wide berth. Having been thrown like a child's castoff toy when they first met, he didn't want to chance a repeat performance. The lumbering monster was in the queen's highest favor and could probably murder the General on the spot without reprisal. She wouldn't let go of that over muscled arm, eyes in a happy daze. "Is he coming to the war room with us today?" He motioned to Ryan who smiled down evilly at him.
"What?" Darya asked quickly, then realized she had been given a question from her favorite General. She dismissed him without thinking twice about it. "Cancel it tonight, we'll do it some other time," Her order wasn't in the bold authoritative manner the General was used to getting. He walked away carefully, eyes hard while wondering what this creature had done to his queen.
"I'm glad you're pleased," Ryan gently told her.
"My first thought," she honestly shared with him, a smile still on her perfect lips, "was to have you heavily flogged for setting me up like that. Something nagged at me though, and when I realized what it was, I couldn't help but give you my grudging acceptance." She stopped and looked up at him, her large dark eyes searching his own. "Can you guess what that is, my dear prince?"
"I can do many things, but reading minds isn't one of them," he replied, then added a soft chuckle. "I'm afraid you're going to have to tell me." As she did, he noticed it in her eyes and her stance. His heart gave a serious guilty pang over what he was doing all of a sudden, but it couldn't be helped. Darya was truly starting to have real love for him and not just carnal lust.
"You really care about me," she said carefully, as if treading strange ground. "Not my title or power. Not my wealth. Not just my physical qualities. Nobody ever cared about me before. Do you know what I'm trying to say?"
"I do," he replied and really meant it. "No matter how high in station or low in life a person lives, my queen, as long as they have somebody who cares about them, they can be truly happy." He could almost feel the oxygen leave his face and hoped beyond all measure she didn't notice any change in his color. He had to build her up and make sure she had some sort of affection for him. The higher her want of his approval, the more effective her coming failure would be and she wouldn't place the fault on him, but on herself.
"You have a strength never witnessed before, Lord Za'Ryan," she continued, then placed a hand on his cheek. "Something tells me your wisdom matches it ounce for ounce. You've given me much this day and I must reflect upon this alone tonight. Tomorrow morning you'll share the final thing, whatever it is, that you need to finally give me your oh so different passion?"
"That I will," he promised her, and then watched her lovely back as she went up the hallway and into her quarters. His ever vigilant lone guard appeared a moment later, obviously sent by the listeners employed by the queen to keep him in check. He reminded himself that if Darya was to give the order, a signal light would be lit that would end his wife's life. What they didn't know was the oil was now water and it would delay any such execution. That delay might be critical to his emerging plan as the last steps came into reach, or that desperate precaution might not be needed. It all depended on her levels of true feelings for him when she freaked out. Oh yes, he was going to give her plenty of shock value in the near future, so he had to have all of his options covered.
Another guilty pang flowed across his chest and down into the pit of his stomach as he approached the large overhanging balcony to reflect on the current situation. Darya was capable of some terrible things, but was she also capable of learning real compassion? Most of her displayed emotions had been forced or false through a sense of want or greed the moment he arrived, but tonight he sensed some genuine feelings come back at him. It's what he wanted, but she had a higher degree of it than he expected.
The sun was almost down and street torches below were being lit for the night's activities in the large city. Central Avernus never slept with almost fifty thousand civilians trying their best to survive a war oriented economy. He could see them milling about in the distance and wished he could go and walk among them, to see if they were anything like the people in Ocaza.
He felt a presence beside him. Out of the corner of his eye he thought at first it was Darya. Those thoughts blew out of his mind as he realized who the woman was, complete with long light blue hair and a smart military stance even though she wore a fancy velvet blue dress instead of armor. Nera didn't say anything at first, just stared out from the throne room balcony at the distant city with him. Ryan turned and looked for his silent armed escort and realized he was gone.
Then Nera spoke, tone artificially neutral and much colder than he would have expected. "I pulled a lot of favors to be here tonight when my queen retired for the evening. Your shadow is taking a paid break. Even the listeners aren't there for a little while. I bring news from your wife."
Ryan turned to her with as much gratitude as he could pack into his expression. "You have no idea how grateful I am you're doing this."
"Oh really?" she retorted, visibly restraining herself from sounding harsher. "What are you playing at, Lord Za'Ryan? You looked mighty happy with the queen all over you this morning. I saw you kiss her and like it. Your wife deserves far better than that."
"I'm having a problem with it to," he confessed, his baritone lending gravity to his regret. "The plan I have involves Darya caring about what I want, not her falling in love with me. What is it with women around here? I show her a little respect and kindness, getting her to see the value of earning something for once rather than just having it handed over. Now she has real feelings for me? Yeah, it's bothering me too Nera, don't think it doesn't."
He regarded her and she didn't respond for almost a full minute. Some measure of kindness returned to her features and she offered him a small smile but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Then she hit him with the news. "Your wife has given birth to twins. Coming as early as they did, they're both healthy and strong. A boy who looks like our kind and a girl with your features."
"Oh, my knees are weak," he replied meekly, leaned against the iron banister of the large balcony for support. That was quickly followed with a swelling of pride and gratitude that he couldn't put into words. He's a father! Not of just one,
but two children. Now his mind began to race as he considered his plans yet again. He reflected his final thoughts aloud. "No matter how things turn out here, I have to make sure they're safe. All three of them."
Nera gave a lopsided smile and her cute features lit up. "My husbands were right to be jealous," she said, then gave him a stern look with a half serious warning. "Don't get any ideas, big guy. You still don't quite get it. Women of our kind aren't used to getting any kind of respect or thoughtful consideration from men. We have to take it or live a life of loneliness. Give any woman of my kind a measure of those two things freely, they're going to want more of you."
"With my people, men and women are equals in all things," he replied, as honest as his mostly dark memory would allow. "We get respect from the opposite sex as much as we give it. It's a two way street, a shared value. Here, men are mostly self-centered."
"That's highly attractive," she explained carefully. "If I was to ever visit your homeland and all men are truly like you, then I might never leave. Your looks are exotic to us, I'm betting we're just as exotic to you."
"My respect for your intelligence has gone up another few notches," he admitted to her out loud, then grinned at her expression. "You're not used to hearing that amount of personal honesty, are you?"
"No," she replied, then turned and looked out to the city once again. "I'm sorry I judged you so harshly before. Seeing the queen and you kiss like that made me jealous for your wife. I figured that her looks were finally getting to you. I actually wanted to slap you across the face."
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