Outlaw

by Angela Verdenius

  Several soldiers laughed.

  “What?” One smirked. “A mere slave took one of our uniforms?”

  “Only the cloak and helmet. It might interest you to know that one of your soldiers was found unconscious in her cabin.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  Damn it, this was not good. Tenia hunched over the mug of ale, hoping no one would notice her, her mind working to formulate a way for her to slip away without raising suspicion.

  “Hedley visited her,” a soldier at a table stated. “But he came back with us.”

  So much for loyalty from fellow-soldiers. Tenia tensed.

  “Where is he?” Maverk asked.

  All heads swivelled in her direction, and she groaned mentally.

  “Hey, Hedley! That you?” The soldier called out cheerfully.

  Heart hammering, she raised the mug in bored salute.

  “See? Can’t be him.”

  In the mirror behind the bar, Tenia saw the vivid blue-eyed gaze fastened on her hunched figure. Tension spiralled through her when Darvk’s eyes narrowed. “’Tis hot in here. You’ve all got your helmets off, why not him?”

  The soldier turned and looked over at her. “Hedley, remove your helmet so these traders can be satisfied that you’re not their bit of fluff.”

  Damn it all to hell and back!

  “Stop farting around and remove the helmet. That’s an order.”

  When she didn’t move straight away, a menacing voice said, “She doesn’t take orders very well. Do you, Tenia?”

  There was no point trying to fool him any longer. Now what? Tenia glanced around, taking in the rough-hewn faces around her. It wouldn’t take much to start a fight, and that might be her only chance to get out - while everyone was fighting and occupied, while chaos reined. It would also serve the purpose of keeping distance between herself and the big traders watching her so closely.

  Slowly she stood up, moved away from the bar.

  The tavern patrons fell back, forming a wide circle in the centre of the room.

  Suddenly her helmet was jerked off from behind. “Hedley, just show them - oh!” The tavern maid jumped back into the crowd, the helmet tumbling from her hands to the floor as she stared at Tenia in shock.

  The soldiers’ eyes widened as they stared at her.

  “Come here, Tenia.” Steel threads of fury ran through Darvk’s deadly quiet voice.

  In answer, she shrugged out of the cloak and tossed it aside.

  They stared at each other, she assessing and he furious.

  “You’ve pushed me too far this time, wench.”

  A patron’s brawny hand fell on her shoulder. “Get you to your master, girl!”

  No time like the present to start the next step in her hastily formulated plan.

  Leaning to the side, Tenia grabbed a bottle of whisky by the neck and shattered the bottom of it on the bar. The sharp odour of alcohol assailed her senses as she swung around with deadly intent.

  Darvk yelled a warning, but it was too late. The jagged edges of the bottle slashed the man’s arm, and he fell back into the crowd with a howl of pain.

  She crouched, the neck of the broken bottle held out threateningly before her. “Stay back!”

  Everyone fell back in a mixture of panic, shock and wariness.

  “Drop it!” Darvk ordered.

  In hand-to-hand combat the traders far outweighed her, but there were other ways to get out of this tavern that had quickly become her prison.

  Leaping up onto the bar, she picked up bottles and hurled them at the advancing traders, making them curse, duck and pull back for cover.

  “Hell, her aim is deadly!” Red exclaimed, dodging another bottle that whizzed past his head to shatter against the wall.

  Her attack wasn’t stopping their advancement, only hindering their progress. Stampeding the crowd would buy her some time. Quickly she aimed several bottles into the crowd, not really caring if they hit anyone or not, her sole focus on causing a panicked push for the door, the object of which she no longer planned for escape.

  As the bottles shattered on the floor, several bouncing off swearing patrons’ arms and chests, they began to scream and swear, surging for the door, effectively cutting off the traders’ approach, making them push and shove against the surging tide of panicked humanity.

  Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the bartender running toward her with a determined look in his eyes. As he drew near she pivoted around, delivering a roundhouse kick that broke his nose and knocked him unconscious.

  “Get her!” Darvk roared from where he tried to fight his way through the panicked crowd. “Grab her and bring her down! Pull her legs out from under her!”

  Intent on capturing her, the six traders dodged the flying bottles and glasses, while the soldiers used chairs as shields and started forward warily. Seeing this, a couple of patrons braver than the others started to approach as well.

  Taking advantage of the fleeing crowd, Tenia sprinted along the bar towards the heavy chandelier suspended from a chain at the far end of the bar.

  “The back door’s locked!” A soldier yelled. “She can’t get out!”

  Not knowing her plan, believing her trapped, the crowd stopped fleeing, those in back now turning to watch the fight between the warrior, Daamens and soldiers, while those previously at the front shoved forward in an attempt at a better view.

  When her gaze didn’t shift from the chandelier, Maverk groan in disbelief. “Nay, surely not!”

  Oh yes, he’d figured out her plan.

  Tenia leaped, the force behind her legs carrying her, clinging to the chandelier, over the heads of the crowd in a wide arc. As she came level with the window, she let go, tucking her head down between protecting arms and twisting head first through the glass pane.

  The window shattered, spraying glass everywhere.

  “Bloody hell!” Darvk recovered first. “Get after her! She may be hurt!”

  Rolling quickly to her feet, Tenia sprinted down the dirt road, the sounds of pursuit following in both the thud of heavy boots and male voices.

  “There she goes!”

  “Tenia!” That enraged bellow belonged to Darvk.

  She was starting to really recognise that tone, and it didn’t bode well for her if she was caught.

  Thankful that the settlement had narrow, ill-lit side streets, she bolted down an alley, leaping over crates and other obstructions, including a few beggars. Heavy pounding sounded behind her, a clear indication that the traders were hot on her heels. A fence loomed ahead. She leaped up, hands catching the top and muscles straining only slightly as she lithely pulled herself up. For the barest second she balanced on top, turning to see how close they were - less than ten feet and nearing rapidly.

  The traders were big, fast and determined, long legs eating up the distance, their attention focussed on her.

  Dropping to the ground at a run, she heard the fence creak and the thuds as the traders went up and over behind her. She swerved into a side alley and ran, fear of capture after the beckoning hand of freedom lending wings to her feet. Rounding a corner, she dived behind a crate loaded with rotting fish, using the darkness to hide.

  The Daamens pounded past mere seconds later.

  Biding her time, she waited, knowing there was no way they could track her once they’d lost her. When she judged enough time had passed, she slid from her hiding place and cautiously walked through the narrow alleys, treading lightly with ears attuned for sounds of pursuit.

  There was nothing apart from the baying of a dog, and drunken singing in the distance.

  Relieved, she rounded a corner into the street and stepped straight into the midst of a group of soldiers. For several stunned seconds they stared at each other; then, she spun around only to find a laser pointed straight at her.

  “Hands up, outlaw!” A soldier snarled.

  Slowly, she did as ordered. With five at her back and five in front, all armed while she was weaponles
s, the odds of winning were poor. Some would say impossible. But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

  Freedom or death.

  “Back up,” the soldier ordered. “Further.”

  Now she was in the middle of a circle of soldiers who pressed closer, curiosity about her clear on their faces.

  “This is the one that caused a mess in the tavern,” one said.

  “And tricked Hedley,” another growled.

  “The bitch is a traitorous Reeka.” A laser poked her in the ribs.

  “Should’ve guessed, leading a man on and then hurting him the way she did Hedley.”

  “Hedley wasn’t man enough to control you.” A soldier to her right licked his lips suggestively. “I’ll show you how a real man does it.”

  Cold trickles of revulsion crept down her spine. Glancing around at the helmeted faces, she saw no mercy reflected in their eyes.

  “When you’re finished, it’s my turn.” A second soldier grabbed his crotch. “I haven’t had my exercise this day!”

  Bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, Tenia eyed the men assessingly. All she needed was to fight enough to get a gap to escape. She shifted her feet to make a move, but the soldier with the laser snapped up the muzzle warningly.

  “Put the bloody thing away,” the soldier behind her swore. “The blast will burn right through her and into me. Where’s your brain?”

  “She’s dangerous.”

  “Then stand back and let real men handle the job.” Hoving him aside, another soldier reached for Tenia. “You two grab her and hold her down.”

  Exploding into action, her leg snapped out and up between his thighs. With a squawk he hit the ground as he clutched his abused privates and rolled around in agony.

  “Get her!”

  Two started for her, one from each side. Scooping up a handful of dirt, she flung it into the nearest one’s eyes, before spinning around to step into the embrace of the other. She delivered a sharp uppercut to his jaw that made his teeth snap together and his head jerk back. He fell like a stone.

  They were upon her, their cruel fingers wrapping tightly around her arms. She kicked and fought, downing one more with a kick to the stomach, and sinking her teeth into yet another’s arm.

  A hand fisted in her hair, and a vicious punch to her jaw made her momentarily see stars, but she fought harder, rewarded by curses and yelps.

  But she was still outnumbered.

  They slammed her back against the wall, the rough stone scraping the skin on her back. Two soldiers used their own legs to pin her to the wall. They were facing her, leaning against her shoulders as they held her arms out to the sides.

  Surging forward, she nearly broke free with sheer strength heightened by fear and desperation, but the cold tip of a dagger pressed to her throat stilled her instantly.

  The soldier pressed harder, bringing forth a drop of blood that trembled on the edge of the tiny wound before slipping down the smooth skin. “Not so brave now, eh?”

  Hatred was better than fear, and Tenia stoked the emotion as she glared at him.

  “Watch out, Han, or she’ll have your balls for breakfast,” a soldier called out.

  The dagger traced down to stop just above the bodice edge. “Shall I cut this off and see what we have to feast on?”

  Cheers of encouragement greeted this suggestion and they pressed closer, eager for a view of the outlaw naked.

  Carrion-eaters.

  “Ready to show us, bitch?” He sneered.

  She spat in his face.

  Surprised, he staggered back to the roaring laughter of his comrades. Crimsoning with rage, he punched her viciously in the stomach.

  Nausea and pain combined with the breath being knocked out of her nearly made her pass out, the fist to her jaw snapping her head sharply to the side.

  “Get her on the ground and spread her legs! I’ll teach the slut to spit at me!”

  As they backed away enough to give them room, she sucked in a deep breath and lunged forward, slamming her shoulder into Han’s chest and knocking him backwards.

  One of the soldiers reacted instantly, swinging his leg up and around to snap hard across her taut midriff with such force it threw her backward against the wall. Before she could recover, it was followed almost immediately by a boot slamming viciously into her ribs, the force of the blow knocking her to the ground as pain burst through her.

  Silence fell upon the soldiers as they waited warily for retaliation.

  Ignoring the pain, she rolled to her side and started to push upright, only to have a boot slam down onto her hand, the heel grinding viciously, while another boot slammed into her ribs again with force enough to send her skidding across the dirt, bits of rock scraping and cutting her skin.

  ~ * ~

  Breathing harshly, the traders halted.

  “She could be anywhere,” Maverk panted.

  “Bloody little fool!” Darvk swiped the back of his wrist across his sweaty brow. “What the hell is she playing at?”

  “Escaping?” Cam asked dryly, adding when Darvk glared at him, “Forget I said anything.”

  “Where now?” Red peered around the grimy alley in which they stood.

  Darvk honestly didn’t know. The wench had proved ingenious in escaping first from the spaceship, then the tavern. The memory of her diving headfirst through the window still had the power to make his knees weak and guts churn. He’d raced outside, sure they’d find her a crumpled, bleeding heap, but nay, she’d been sprinting down the street even as they spilled out the door.

  “I never realized how fit and agile the lass is,” Jase remarked. “The stamina of a horse and speed of a deer.”

  “Very poetical.” Maverk frowned. “The wench’ll need that stamina and speed if she stumbles upon the soldiers searching for her.”

  “That thought is never far from my mind,” Darvk said grimly. “Let’s keep searching and pray we find her first.”

  The wench might be a thorn in his side, and there was no doubt he’d certainly under-estimated her, but the thought of her fate at the hands of these soldiers made his skin crawl. If the Daamens didn’t find Tenia first, God knew what would become of her.

  His fears were well-founded when ten minutes later they heard the sound of men laughing and jeering.

  She’d been found.

  Breaking into a run, Darvk and his crew followed the noise and heard the merriment change to curses.

  One sentence rang out, sending a chill through Darvk. “Get her on the ground and spread her legs! I’ll teach the slut to spit at me!”

  “Shit!” Cam swore. “The lass’s in deep trouble!”

  Surging ahead, Darvk pounded down the side streets and finally burst out into another side street, cursing when he saw Tenia on the ground and a circle of soldiers around her. Even as he skidded to a halt, one of the soldiers slammed his boot into Tenia’s side with enough force to send her several agonising inches across rock and dirt.

  “You bastards!” Darvk roared.

  The soldiers stared at the sight of six giants, dangerous in their fury at the sight of the fallen outlaw.

  “Here now.” One of the soldiers recognized them. “We found your whore-”

  Grabbing him by the throat, Darvk lifted him up into the air and shook him like a rag. “Shut your filthy mouth, scum!”

  A second soldier drew his laser. “Release him! He’s a soldier of Kenta!”

  “He’ll be a soldier of hell if she’s seriously hurt!”

  Nervously the soldiers eyed the grim Daamen crew fanning out beside Darvk.

  “The outlaw attacked us,” the soldier snapped.

  “So you beat her?” Maverk snarled. “Ten men against one wench?”

  Darvk threw the soldier he held against the wall, ignoring him as he crumpled to the ground while gasping for air. Striding over to Tenia, Darvk crouched down and lifted her chin gently, seeing the blood and dirt on her face, the blossoming bruise on her jaw.

  He
glared at the soldiers. “You bastards were beating on a wench? What the hell is wrong with you all?”

  The eyes of the soldier who was speaking for them all narrowed. “She’s a Reeka outlaw. By law, she is the property of the Kenta Peacekeepers.”

  “Wrong, soldier. By law she is mine. My brand is on her.”

  The soldiers muttered uncertainly and shifted. If the outlaw was branded then legally…

  “Aye,” Darvk said harshly. “By law she is to be returned to the lawful owner. I don’t remember rape as being allowed for branded outlaws unless their owner decrees it. Neither you nor the Peacekeepers have no right to her.”

  “She has not been raped.”

  “Yet. Not to mention the beating you were giving her.”

  “We retaliated to attack, and that is lawful!”

  Blood pulsing angrily through his veins, Darvk’s jaw clenched. “We heard your order to spread her legs, soldier. Don’t attempt to lie to me.” A rasping breath diverted him, and he glanced down to find Tenia trying to rise; pain reflected in her eyes though her expression remained set. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he drew her to her feet as he watched in concern while she straightened painfully. “Are you all right, lass?”

  “Of course,” was the unsurprising reply.

  He looked at the soldier. “Thank the stars that you didn’t succeed in your intentions, or by God, I’d have ripped you apart with my bare hands.”

  “You can’t threaten the soldiers of-”

  “Be sure your commander will hear of this. Now get the hell out of my sight before I change my mind and beat you to a pulp.”

  Knowing that the Daamen was right, the soldiers retreated, muttering and scowling.

  “Jase, go and inform the commander of what has transpired,” Darvk ordered, bending protectively over Tenia.

  “Might be a good idea to pay the owner for the damages done to his tavern” Maverk advised. “Generously.”

  “Whatever.” It was the least of Darvk’s concern. “Organize it.”

  Covered in dirt and blood, battered and bruised, she looked up at him with defiance on her face and pain in her eyes. Straightening her shoulders, her jaw clenched, but not one whimper passed her lips.

  “Here, lass,” he said gently, “I’ll carry you.”