Chapter Six
RAIA STOOD NEXT to Skehl the next day while they watched Arghet prepare for his duel. The scitia blade was crafted of a rare metal found on the planet. Only the very skilled and supremely focused could use it without cutting themselves. It was thin yet balanced, and the metal resonated with the individual’s energy.
She herself often had a blade at her side, but since female barbarians didn’t fight, she’d stashed it away. She missed her Flongian steel, a blade as thin and even stronger than the scitia. But it was missing a core of energy the barbarians would use this morning.
With the scitia, the stronger one’s phelthar—and thus connection with the planet—the better the fighter.
According to those placing bets, Arghet was the finest swordsman in the tribe, though Ackhlen was a close a second.
Raia would never have guessed it. She’d kept an eye on the Chamra clan the night prior while Skehl watched over Arghet, and she didn’t like what she’d seen.
Though most of the warriors in that particular clan seemed no different from the Vyctore, a few spoke in low voices, apart from the others, as if planning something. The alpha, Fehlen, Ackhlen, and two others seemed involved while their clanmates did not.
Ackhlen in particular had been animated and not at all subservient to his alpha, which made little sense. After getting thrown around by Arghet, then ordered around by Talzec, the warrior should have been a little more humble, or at least angry. But he acted as if none of that mattered.
As if his altercation had gone according to plan?
She didn’t like any of it.
Tired of hiding in the shadows, too far away to fix things should they go awry, she stood in her barbarian maiden disguise next to her bond-mate.He is prepared for trickery?she sent Skehl.
Yes. I kept watch all night as he slept. No enemy came near. But I sense danger. My alpha is aware.He paused, looking down into her eyes. Ouralpha, I mean.
Not mine.
Not yet.
She frowned up at him, startled to see a gleam of humor on his normally stoic face. Skehl had been quiet and mostly submissive when she’d first found him. But lately, he was growing bolder. She liked his spirit and had no desire to squash it, but she’d need to curb his tendency to take charge. Only a female ruled her household. In short order, she’d make sure both Arghet and Skehl knew how to properly behave.
The years spent learning her trade as an assassin had not been kind, but she’d watched, curious, as the many human units in which she’d been fostered withered under male oppression. Time spent among the serpentyne, a snake-like species known for poisons, speed, and the ability to go unnoticed, had shown her the merits of a matriarchal society.
Unlike the first few families she’d been adopted into while training, Magda’s had been healthy and thriving. Her daughters had skills beyond compare, and her sons blended so seamlessly with their targets’ surroundings that they’d never once been caught or associated with Magda’s family.
Raia hadn’t liked her life until Magda. All she’d learned from the astute woman was worthy of passing on to her own young. Now that she’d avenged herself and her mate by killing the human vermin who’d traded with the Nasuhl—who no longer existed—she could build her own family unit. It was as if she’d been pulled back to her homeworld by destiny, because that kill Arghet thought belonged to him had actually been hers all along. A traitorous Earther from a clan who’d conspired with the Nasuhl to capture and enslave barbarians.
They’d wanted a professional assassin out of Raia. Instead, they’d found their own end at her hands.
Skehl’s seed would produce strong assassins. Perhaps warrior-assassins. She liked the thought of it. She also liked what she sensed in him. Under all the hardness, the killing instinct, and the ability to endure, lay a fundamental kindness. A purity of spirit. It called to her on another level. Perhaps that made him such a great warrior, an ability to truly understand his prey before annihilating them.
Arghet seemed more guarded, more difficult to figure out. But she had this opportunity to watch him in battle, to see the true mettle of the man. That he could wield a scitia spoke highly of him, as did his status among the Vyctore. Having spiritually joined with him, she sensed the great phelthar tying him to all things. For all his bluster, he would never harm her. She felt his innate honor, an underlying goodness of spirit.
But she needed to see him in action, and she needed to be with him and Skehl, as one. The distance from her bond-mates had started to irritate her, like a small pebble stuck in her boot that gradually wore and grew painful.
As if sensing her need, Skehl moved closer, his arm brushing against hers, and a warmth unfurled in her mind.
She sighed. A male taking charge yet again. Then she felt his amusement and couldn’t hold back a chuckle. He would be a handful for certain.And if memory serves, a mouthful as well.
He blushed, and she laughed again.
“The rules are simple,” the judge for the scitia competition called out, quieting the crowd. As had happened the previous day, the first bout held everyone’s attention. All three elders watched as well, giving more credence to the fact that the scitia was indeed a special part of the tournament. “The competition ends when a warrior concedes defeat and not before. Blood may be drawn, limbs may be lost. But true victory belongs only to the one who conquers the other.” He shot his hand into the air. “Begin.”
Arghet looked wild, wicked, and deadly. He wore only a loincloth, his boots, and arm-bracers and held the scitia in his left hand, then changed to his right. Ackhlen, on the other hand, had painted symbols she didn’t recognize over his face. He wore a chest plate, arm-bracers and boots, and a longer loincloth made of shimmering scales.
“Flahvlae scales will protect him well,” Talzec said, standing behind her.
She tensed, annoyed she hadn’t sensed the powerful warrior, too busy studying her stubborn bond-mate. Distraction would get her killed if she weren’t careful.
“Yes,” Skehl said to his alpha.
