He had to smile at her. “Don’t wish that, because neither of us is going to die here. We’re getting out of here. I came back to save you, the same way you saved me.”
“How are you going to do that?” she asked. “The place is crawling with armed guards.”
“I got in here without anybody seeing me or trying to stop me,” he pointed out. “Breaking out might be easier than you realize.”
Lilith shook her head. “Old Ponchy’s got it in for me, and now that you’re here, he won’t let either of us out of his sight. We would never be able to fight our way out.”
Taig scanned the surroundings. “I know it. That’s why we won’t try to fight our way out.”
“How can we get out, then, if we don’t fight?” she asked.
He flipped over on his back to take the pressure off his shoulders. “I’m not sure, but we’ll find a way. I’m not ready to die yet.”
A fit of coughing tore through her. “I think there’s something wrong with your head. You should have gotten away with your sister and your friends. What do you think I fought all those Outliers for, if not to give you a chance to escape?”
“I know you did, Lilith,” he replied, “and that’s exactly why I had to give you the same chance. You’re right. There’s something wrong with my head, and it’s you. Now stop talking. Here comes Ponchy.”
Old Ponchy gave orders to his people to surround the rock and keep the prisoners under guard at all times. To prevent a repeat of the last escape, they hung burning torches from the branches around the tree so they could see Taig and Lilith even in the darkest night. Other Outliers replenished the torches and relieved the guards so their watch never slackened for an instant.
Taig’s spirits flagged the longer he watched them. He came back still flush with his first escape, but this situation was truly hopeless. Lilith was right. Old Ponchy wouldn’t let them out of his sight until he’d crushed them both. No one would come to rescue them, and they would die alone under his heel.
He caught her watching him and moved his head away. He couldn’t let her see him doubt. The constant beatings and defeats and recaptures weighed too heavily on Lilith’s mind. She’d already given up and prepared herself for death. The same toughness that kept her coming back again and again was Taig’s worst enemy now. The dreadful responsibility he’d accepted, to save them both from a hopeless situation, rested on his shoulders alone. He couldn’t count of Lilith to support him. He’d come to rescue her, not the other way around, and he couldn’t let her down now.
With all the preparations in place, Old Ponchy approached the rock again with a smug grin. He had them right where he wanted them. He knew as well as they did they couldn’t get away. “Now that’s taken care of, we can move on to the main event.”
Taig braced himself and smiled up at Old Ponchy. “So where’s your adoring audience? Where are your hundreds of followers who are going to swoon in ecstasy to see you torture us to death?”
The smile melted from his face, and his eyes flashed fire. “They’ll come. Don’t you worry.”
Taig cocked his head to one side. The more he talked, the more his confidence took over. His fear and doubt faded. “You’re losing your touch, Ponchy. Your control over these people is slipping. If you can’t get them to enjoy a good piece of brutality for its own sake, what makes you think they’ll follow you into battle against the Avitras....or any other faction, for that matter?”
Old Ponchy took three rapid paces forward, and his hands balled into fists. “Shut up!”
Taig gazed across the steppe to the grass blowing in the breeze. “You know the Avitras fought several wars against the Ursidreans. The Ursidreans had all these sophisticated weapons, but the Avitras still held their own, especially when the Ursidreans fought them on their own territory. The Avitras can put up one heck of a fight when it comes to defending their homes and their land.”
Old Ponchy lashed out with his foot and slammed Taig’s head against the rock. Warm blood ran down his nose into his mouth. “They won’t follow you, Ponchy. They don’t want to follow you even now. They only do it out of fear of you.”
Old Ponchy’s mouth twisted into a hideous grimace. He whipped his reciprocator out of his belt and aimed it at Taig’s face. Taig’s eyes rolled back in their sockets, and his head bonked against the rock. Old Ponchy’s lips quivered in rage. Then he turned on his heel and strode away.
Taig waited until he couldn’t hear Old Ponchy’s footsteps in the distance before he opened his eyes.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lilith murmured. “You shouldn’t bait him like that. You’ll only make him madder.”
“The way I see it,” Taig told her, “we have absolutely nothing to lose. He already plans to kill us in the most gruesome way he can think of. It can’t get any worse.”
“So are you trying to get him to kill you quickly so he won’t torture?” she asked. “Is that it?”
“He won’t kill us yet,” Taig told her. “For one thing, he has to make sure all his people see him do it. His power rests in them fearing him. He’ll wait until then, at least.”
“Then you better think of something pretty quick,” she replied. “Here they come.”
Taig cast a glance over her shoulder. The Outliers streamed over the verge in their direction. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Listen to me, Lilith. I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
“We don’t have time for a dissertation on the obvious,” she shot back.
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “We can’t stand against all these Outliers, and they’ll kill us as long as Old Ponchy’s alive to tell them to do it. They’re too afraid of him not to.”
“I could have told you that,” she countered.
“Talya told us the same thing,” he went on. “They don’t want to follow him, but they’re too afraid of him to do anything else.”
“So what are you trying to tell me, in your long-winded way?” she asked.
He lowered his eyes to her face. “We can’t beat them all, but we can defeat him. He’s only one man, and once he’s gone, we can get away.”
Her eyes popped open. “Defeat Old Ponchy? How?”
Taig swept the camp with his eyes, but he didn’t move. “These people are coming to watch him kill us. We’ll have to turn the tables and kill him instead. I’m going to challenge him to a fight. His pride won’t let him refuse in front of his people. He’ll fight me, and I’ll kill him.”
“He’ll fight you,” Lilith argued, “and he’ll kill you.”
Taig smiled. “I’ll have to make sure he doesn’t.”
“And then what?” she asked. “Do you really think the Outliers will let you walk out of here after you kill him?”
“Can you think of any other way to get out of this?” he asked.
Chapter 6
The Outliers flooded into the clearing single file and surrounded the rock where Taig and Lilith lay bound and breathless. Taig studied their faces for any sign of recognition, but they kept their eyes turned away.
The band consisted of adult men and women, no children, specially picked by Old Ponchy to capture the travelers. They knew Old Ponchy’s ways too well to harbor any misgivings about this demonstration of his power. Every face wore a blank mask of indifference to carnage and suffering. The most gruesome horrors couldn’t penetrate that armor against horror and compassion. They knew what Old Ponchy would do to the luckless travelers who fell into his grasp.
Old Ponchy stayed out of sight until his people surrounded the rock. Then he strode to the center of the circle and glared at the captives with his hands clasped behind his back. A surge of adrenaline scorched Taig’s heart. He would have one shot at this. He would have to use all his cunning to manipulate the old man to submit to his will without realizing it.
Old Ponchy drew himself up to his full height. That’s right, you old fool, Taig thought. Puff yourself up. Show your people
what a big man you are. Show them how big and strong you are.
Old Ponchy raised his voice so everyone in the circle could hear him. “You’ve betrayed our people for the last time. You’ve waged war against us and destroyed the peace we fought to build. Enemies of our people deserve one fate. Prepare to die now at my hand in the sight of all these witnesses.”
Taig took a deep breath and projected his voice over the crowd. “You’re a coward, Ponchy.”
Old Ponchy stopped in mid-stride. His forehead knit, and he scowled down at Taig. “How dare you! You’ll suffer for that.” He took a step toward the prisoners.
Taig did his best to keep his voice steady. “You’re a coward if you kill us tied up and helpless like this. Be a man and fight. Show your people how strong you are and let me face you standing on my feet.”
Old Ponchy hesitated, but only for an instant. He couldn’t exactly refuse that challenge in front of all his people. He would prove himself a coward if he did. “I don’t have to prove myself to these people. They already know how strong I am.”
“Anyone can stab someone tied hand and foot to a rock, Ponchy,” Taig countered. “Is that your way of showing your people how strong you are? Cut me loose and fight me like a man. When I’m dead, you can stand over my bloody corpse and no one will dare challenge you.”
Old Ponchy frowned, but a glimmer of triumph flickered in his eyes. He couldn’t resist the image of himself resting his foot against Taig’s inert remains and casting his supreme gaze around his admiring followers. A shadow of doubt clouded his face for a moment, but he banished it in an instant and maniacal greed for power took its place.
He took three rapid paces forward and yanked the knife from his belt. Taig flinched, but the knife whisked past his head to cut the rope holding his wrists. His hands fell free, and he smiled to himself. That part of his plan worked. Now came the hard part.
Old Ponchy strode back to the same spot and clasped his hands behind his back. His face flushed with the blood lust for mortal combat. He fought hard to suppress a smile of pleasure. He tossed the knife at Taig’s feet. “I’ll give you that, and I’ll face you with my bare hands, just so no one can say I took unfair advantage of you.”
Taig left the knife where it was. “I don’t need it. Let’s fight like men.”
He inched sideways to circle Old Ponchy. Old Ponchy sneered in his face. “Fight like a man? You’re only a boy.”
Taig shook his head, but the fur stood up on the back of his neck. “Then why are you afraid of me? You’re getting old, and I have youth on my side.”
Old Ponchy circled the other way. “I may be old, but I’m stronger than you think. Come on. Quit hedging and fight. When you’re dead, no one will dare stand up to me again.”
Taig forced himself to smile. “You’re worried. Do they stand up to you now, or do they just talk about you behind your back? If they don’t stand up to you yet, it’s only a matter of time before they defy you to your face. Your time’s getting short. You know that as well as I do.”
The old man’s smile twisted into a crooked grimace, and Taig saw his words strike home. Old Ponchy must have noticed his people’s loyalty flagging. They didn’t look him in the face with the same forthright devotion anymore. Too many people sacrificed, too many strangers murdered, too many women and children served up at feasts—it all took its toll.
Taig’s words had the effect he intended, and Old Ponchy lunged at him with his claws outstretched. Taig danced to one side. This was the moment he worked to create. He must exploit it while it lasted. He’d seen Old Ponchy fight Lilith, and the old man lacked nothing when it came to strength and agility. Taig wasn’t sure he could defeat Old Ponchy in a fight, but he’d painted himself into a corner. This fight would be his last stand.
He jumped out of Old Ponchy’s way, but the old man didn’t sail past the way he planned. He didn’t leave his back exposed the way Taig hoped. He recovered in an instant and whirled to lock Taig in a death grip. He dove for Taig’s throat. Taig only got his hands up in the nick of time to deflect him, and Old Ponchy locked his iron grip on his shoulders.
Old Ponchy weighed more than Taig, but not a scrap of that weight was wasted. Under his ragged clothes and disheveled hair he was solid muscle. Taig winced at the vice closing around his neck, and nothing he could do would shake the menace off him. His arms made no impression on Old Ponchy, and the old man’s weight knocked him off balance. He staggered backward and would have fallen.
He caught himself and balanced. He dragged his mind back from the brink of panic. He had to come up with a way to fight this man. He couldn’t let Old Ponchy drive him down, never to rise again. With a superhuman effort, he took his hands away from Old Ponchy’s hands and stopped trying to pry his fingers from around his neck. He shifted his own hands to Old Ponchy’s neck and squeezed the older man’s windpipe.
Old Ponchy grimaced, and foam frothed from his mouth as he fought to breath, but his grip on Taig’s neck only clamped down harder. Mounting fear and desperation almost drove Taig to loosen his grip, but he rallied and compressed it harder still. Old Ponchy’s face turned from red to deep purple, but rage and hatred compelled him to fight harder. Taig couldn’t match him for sheer evil and blood lust.
A haze crossed Old Ponchy’s eyes. Just a few more seconds, and he would let go....but he didn’t. Taig couldn’t wait any longer. If the struggle went on much longer, Old Ponchy would choke the life out of him in front of all those people. He brought his knee up into Old Ponchy’s crotch with all his strength, but Old Ponchy anticipated him and dodged sideways. Taig’s knee landed in the soft flesh of the old man’s thigh.
Now Old Ponchy made his own gambit. He hurled his massive weight against Taig, and this time, he knocked him over backwards. The two men tumbled to the ground, and while Taig worked to keep his hands locked around Old Ponchy’s neck, Old Ponchy shifted his own fingers to close around Taig’s throat.
His mind reeled in turmoil, and his eyes blurred. Air grated in and out of his mouth, but every breath robbed him of the precious spark of life. He tried to look around. Lilith lay on the ground not far away, still tied to the rock. He couldn’t make out her face from that distance through his oxygen-starved eyes. If he could only see her face, she might encourage him to rally once more.
He glanced around at the Outliers, but they stood silent and expressionless in a wall of bodies. They served only to hem him in so he couldn’t escape, even if he survived this fight. They would never help him. If he killed Old Ponchy, some other maniac would take his place until Taig was dead.
In the last throes of desperation, Taig let go of Old Ponchy’s neck and floundered in blind confusion. As soon as he let go, Old Ponchy doubled his efforts and smashed Taig’s head down on the ground. Taig’s vision swam, and he almost passed out. He pawed the ground with both hands, and his fingertips struck something hard. He snatched up the rock and pounded it into Old Ponchy’s ribs.
His fear of death gave him the strength to match Old Ponchy’s hate. A rib cracked under the first blow, and Old Ponchy cried out in pain as the rock slammed into the same place and drove the broken rib into his lungs. He let go of Taig’s neck, and the sweet breath of life flooded his body. His vision cleared, and diamond-sharp clarity swept the fog from his mind. From the rare heights, sublime wisdom revealed to him exactly what he had to do to defeat this man.
He tossed Old Ponchy off him with no trouble and hauled himself to his feet with the rock still in his hand. He swept the audience with his eyes, but he didn’t look at Lilith. She was watching him, along with the rest of the crowd. This moment would decide the match. If Taig prevailed and killed Old Ponchy, the Outliers would be finished. They would disband and maybe return to the other factions. The plan to invade Avitras territory would die.
The two men faced each other with renewed sobriety. Neither rushed in to grapple with the other. They circled each other. Taig coughed, and Old Ponchy’s side hitched u
p in pain every time he breathed. Taig scanned him up and down. How could he attack Old Ponchy to take advantage of that broken rib?
Old Ponchy couldn’t have been very hurt, though. He rushed at Taig with ferocity the young Lycaon never saw before or since. Taig braced himself for the impact, but Old Ponchy didn’t tackle him the way he did before. At the last second, Old Ponchy landed on his feet and punched Taig in the face with both fists. Colored lights exploded in front of his eyes, and in his daze, Old Ponchy pummeled his head and body with punches, kicks, and jabs.
Taig never had a chance to recover. His nose exploded in a fountain of blood. The blinking lights faded from his eyes just in time for another punch to smart on his cheekbone or eyebrow. Some black film blinded him. He tried to pass his hand across his eyes between punches, and blood covered his hand.
Old Ponchy never gave him an instant to recover. He drove him backward, step by brutal step, until Taig tripped over one of the Outliers looking on. The man moved out of the way, and with one well-aimed strike, Old Ponchy drove him to the ground. Taig managed to get his hands up in front of his face, but Old Ponchy pulled back and kicked him again and again.
His heel snapped Taig’s ribs and cracked his skull. The toe of his shoe slammed his teeth together and exploded against his ear. Waves crashed in his ears, and blood streamed down his face. His mind swirled in a maelstrom of muddled ideas and impossible dreams about how he could extricate himself from Old Ponchy’s power, but nothing made sense anymore. Another kick, or an elbow jammed into his solar plexus, banished those ideas as fast as they came.
The flashing lights clouding his eyes came faster and faster, intermixed with blotches of black. The blackness grew until it dominated everything he could see. In a minute, it would claim him. He would fall into the black and never come out. He made only the faintest attempts now to defend himself. He would never rise again. He welcomed the dark, the peaceful, silent void calling him from the other side of consciousness.
The New Angondra Complete Series Page 28