“Suvesh, please!” the female hissed. She picked up an item from the back of the wagon—Zul could not see what it was—and flung it at the jigging numpties. The item struck one numpty’s hindquarters and shattered. The beast bellowed and lurched forward. The other numpty immediately matched its pace. The hoverwagon floated smoothly behind the racing beasts, leaving behind five dead castrati on the dusty earth. The driver shoved the reins in the female’s hands and leaped from the wagon. As soon as his feet touched ground, he scrambled to retrieve one of the fallen pikes.
“I will fight with you,” the castratus promised, his voice surprisingly deep and mellifluous.
“Protect my back,” Zul ordered.
“With my life.”
The remaining three rosvoi charged. The castratus aimed the pike with surprising accuracy and wielded it with unexpected skill as he defended Zul’s blind side while the berserker thrusted and parried and lunged and dodged. When one of the better skilled rosvoi knocked the sword from his hand, he drew the dagger at his hip and swiped with his claws, horns, and tail. Using every tool at his command, he finally unleashed the deep rage that burned inside every berserker.
A red film glazed his eyes, giving him access to the infrared spectrum that made blood glow and illuminated weak points with lethal accuracy. His muscles felt the sizzle of new energy and increased strength, enabling him to move with enhanced speed and precision. The base of his horns turned cold and hardened, lending additional strength where they were anchored in his skull and contracting the tips to deadly, extra-sharp points. With a bestial roar pitched to concuss brains and liquefy bowels, he slaughtered the three remaining rosvoi.
The berserker rage retreated when he no longer had a target. He took deep breaths and blinked away the red haze. After a moment, he found himself looming over the castratus huddled on the ground in a submissive pose beneath the threat of his dagger. Zul shook his head to dispel the lingering effects of the berserker rage. He sheathed the dagger and stepped away to retrieve his sword from the dusty earth.
“You are safe,” he grunted at the shivering castratus.
The hoverwagon’s driver slowly picked himself off the ground and, when standing, dusted himself off with grave dignity despite the spreading stains of blood on his clothes. His green eyes narrowed as he focused on the ruddy-skinned, black-horned berserker. He looked around, and what he observed distressed him. He made a low keening sound in the back of his throat then said, “Fangrys owes you a great debt of gratitude.”
“Where are her mates?” Zul demanded. “How can they allow a female to travel without protection?”
“Prima cen’Vyr does as she wills,” the servant replied.
“Prima?” Zul was appalled.
The servant bowed. “As I said, Fangrys owes you a debt.”
Zul huffed. “That debt will grow, asIwill protect the Prima if her warriors will not.”
The driver averted his gaze then said, “Theycannot.”
Zul leaned forward, a growl building in his throat. “Has the loss of their Third so besmirched their honor?”
The castratus met his gaze without flinching, a bold and unexpected response. “They are deployed.”
He hissed in disbelief. “Does the government not know?—”
“Of course, they know,” the driver snapped. “But it was deemed more important to Uribern to have them fighting on the front lines than to remain here to protect their mate.”
“I don’t understand,” Zul admitted. “The Ogranox retreated.”
“And the Sivuul attacked.”
“What is the date?” Zul demanded. At the castratus’ answer, he clenched his jaws. He’d definitely lost track of time.
“Who are you?” the castratus asked.
“I am Zullar cen’Gyrah, Third of the Uk’khadir Triad.”
The castratus’s eyes widened in recognition then narrowed in suspicion. “The Uk’khadir Triad was killed sixty years ago.”
“I am all that remains,” Zul admitted.
The castratus remained unconvinced, but said nothing of the sort. Instead, he bowed then began walking toward the village.
“Where are you going?” Zul asked as he fell into step beside the castratus.
“To the village. The Prima conducts business there.”
Surprise again compelled Zul to blurt in disbelief and astonishment. “ThePrimaconductsbusiness?”
