Clan and Crown (12 page)

His smile didn’t fade until they
stepped out into Ler’s hazy but bright sunlight. Temporarily
blinded, Clajak slowed, almost stopping. The humidity hit him like
a solid wall, along with the overpowering odor of rancid waste.
When a huge dark form appeared in front of him, he came to a halt,
momentarily thinking he had blundered up to a wall ... a wall where
someone had elected to take the universe’s most foul dump. The
stench overpowered the fetid green smell of the nearby
jungle.

Egilka bumped into him from behind. The
Imdiko started to apologize, but he was cut off by a squealing
snarl.

Egilka’s voice rose high in panic.
“Fuck! Clajak, it’s those damned Tragooms!”

Clajak had no time to react. Egilka had
barely finished his warning when a brutal blow caught the prince in
the midsection. All the breath left his body in an instant. His
legs turned to water beneath him. He fell to the ground
hard.

So that’s what smells so
bad,
he thought in a daze.
Not shit. Tragooms.

Over the roar in his ears, Clajak heard
Egilka bellow a cry of pain. The Imdiko thudded to the ground next
to Clajak. The prince had a bare moment of seeing scarlet on his
companion’s mouth. Despite the pain in his midsection, the sight
made Clajak’s legs remember how to work.

He flew to his feet. The knife from his
belt pouch found its way into his hand. Clajak stood over Egilka,
lashing out at the pair of Tragooms, defending his Imdiko.
Unfortunately for the prince, his knife only skidded across the
boulder-like upper chest of one of the Tragooms. The blade was
sharp enough to cut through an armored formsuit, but it was not
able to scratch the squealing beast’s bare flesh.

Below the breastbone, you
dolt,
a voice in Clajak’s head yelled. The
imagined shout sounded a lot like his father Yuder.

Clajak tried to reset his stance to
attack the Tragoom closest to him. The brute swung a big cloven
fist. There was no time to duck the blow heading straight for the
prince’s skull.

Pain burst through Clajak’s head,
sending starbursts flying across his vision. Then the horrid smells
and hazy sunshine melted into a black, soundless void.

He was out for only a few seconds. When
consciousness returned, Clajak lay on the ground in the smoldering
heat of the city. He had little time to think about that however,
because Egilka was shrieking in piercing peals.

Clajak tried to jerk to his feet. The
heavy weight of a Tragoom sitting on his thighs kept him pinned to
the ground. The awful creature didn’t even look at him as Clajak
struggled in a futile effort to break free. Instead it watched its
companion kick Egilka back and forth across the dusty ground. The
Imdiko rolled this way and that in a whirlwind of powdery dirt. His
body curled in a ball and arms slung over his head as he protected
his most vulnerable parts from the assault. Every kick to his legs,
buttocks, and back brought another pained screech.

Clajak’s head filled with fury to see
his clanmate-to-be abused by the filthy beast. He looked around in
desperation for the knife he’d pulled earlier. It was nowhere to be
seen. His belt with its pouches had disappeared. He couldn’t reach
past the Tragoom sitting on him to reach the blade hidden in his
boot. No matter how hard his fists pounded against the damnable
beast, it never reacted. Without a blaster or knife, Clajak would
lie here while Egilka was kicked to death. Unless someone in the
crowd surrounding them helped...

The prince cast his desperate gaze over
those pressed in a tight circle around them. Mostly Dantovonians,
the aliens placed bets on if Egilka and Clajak would escape or if
they would die and how long before they died. There was no help in
a city where life versus death was the biggest and best wager of
them all.

Clajak roared in furious impotence. The
rage he felt against the Tragooms enlarged to include the onlookers
as well. If he could get free of the rancid fucker holding him down
and kill it, he would also kill every one of these uncaring
bastards and piss on their corpses...

An idea bloomed in his head, cutting
through the storm of frantic and enraged thoughts. Clajak scrabbled
with the crotch seam of his formsuit bottom, wrenching it open. He
reached in and grabbed his primary dick, aiming it in an
instant.

A stream of piss shot from him like a
geyser, jetting straight into the face of the Tragoom holding him
down. The brute squealed and stumbled backwards, falling over its
own trunk-like legs to get away from the dousing. Clajak wasn’t
sure why. He thought his urine improved the Tragoom’s
stench.

Cheers and groans rose from the crowd
at his ruse. Clajak didn’t take any time to heed them. He rolled to
his feet. His hand dove into his boot as he went, pulling a
thin-bladed knife from its hidden sheath. All this was accomplished
in one smooth practiced motion, born of many close calls in violent
ports.

No sooner had the blade cleared his
boot then Clajak dove for the Tragoom abusing Egilka. The prince
aimed true, plunging his knife into the Tragoom’s vulnerable groin.
The monstrosity had no chance to react before Clajak yanked the
blade free and shoved it into one of its tiny, bleary eyes. He
drove it deep into the Tragoom’s brain.

Clajak didn’t wait to see it fall dead
to the dusty ground. He went after the other Tragoom. Barely three
seconds had passed since he’d pissed in its ugly face. The stupid
thing was still trying to wipe itself clean. Clajak raced to it in
a blur. His knife arced up, flashing like lightning as it aimed for
the soft spot below the breastbone and up into the heart. The
Tragoom bawled a snorting cry as the knife found its mark. Clajak
jerked back in time to keep from being knocked down beneath the
falling creature.

The prince turned back to Egilka.
Shockingly, the Imdiko had made it to his feet. Something in
Clajak’s chest eased to see Egilka standing.

The respite lasted only an instant.
Egilka’s eyes were wide as he looked out over the crowd. His
warning rang in Clajak’s ears. “Here come more!”

Clajak wheeled. Sure enough, two more
collared Tragooms waded through the crowd. They threw tourists and
shopkeepers aside in their deadly march to get to the Kalquorians.
Clajak’s fist tightened around his dripping knife. “Son of a bitch!
How many of those damned things did Ru’imbu bring?”

The prince’s temples beat with anger.
The impulse to stay and fight and then track down the little gray
shit behind all this overwhelmed him. Ru’imbu needed his scrawny
little neck wrung. However, the need to get poor Egilka to safety
rose stronger. Clajak couldn’t put his Imdiko in further
danger.

He hurried to Egilka’s side, noting the
man’s still-bleeding lip. Egilka also held the back of one thigh,
as if it pained him.

“Can you run?” Clajak asked. “We need
to get out of the city in a hurry.”

Egilka nodded, his eyes wide as he
tracked the progress of the coming Tragooms. “I’m fine! Go! I’ll be
right behind you.”

Clajak had the sudden, ugly vision of
Egilka stumbling and being caught by the Tragooms while the prince
ran ahead unawares. “Not going to happen,” he growled and seized
Egilka’s arm. He took off, yanking the gasping Imdiko behind him.
Many in the crowd had the sense to jump out of the way. Clajak’s
hard fist cleared out those who weren’t so smart.

Within a few seconds the pair ran down
deserted streets. Ler shimmered in the heat. The thick air made it
hard to breathe, but Clajak didn’t let up for a moment. All too
soon he heard the thundering sound of their pursuers, free of the
crowd and hot on the chase.

“Clajak—” Egilka’s voice sounded
strangled.

Clajak knew he had to get the Imdiko to
safety. Egilka was winded from the beating, the heat, and the dust
that rose in choking clouds.

“Just a little more,” he told his
companion, and ran faster. “Come on, Egilka, give me a little
more.”

Somehow the Imdiko managed to struggle
on. His harsh inhalations told Clajak he wouldn’t go much farther.
As Clajak saw the first hazy grey-green of the jungle beyond the
city, he felt a stab of hope.

“Almost there,” he encouraged Egilka.
“You can do this!”

A minute later they passed the last
buildings of Ler. The tangled jungle was right in front of them,
steaming in the heat. Clajak didn’t pause for a moment. He crashed
into the dense growth, yanking Egilka along with him.

Clajak was well aware of the dangers of
the Dantovonian jungle, especially when he felt the electrical
tingle of the bio-keyed containment field pass through his body.
The field ran between Ler and the untamed tropical forest, passing
deep within the soil several miles down. It had no effect on the
aliens that visited Dantovon. The barrier was not made to impede
the progress of anyone who dared to cross it from the city’s side.
It was keyed for certain creatures that lived in the gloom-drenched
jungle.

Clajak wished the field was programmed
to keep Tragooms on the other side. With Ru’imbu ordering the
behemoths around, they might not hesitate to chance the jungle in
their pursuit.

He pressed deep into the undergrowth,
still pulling the gasping Egilka in his wake. They slowed to a
lurching walk, hampered by the tangle of vines and dense
vegetation. The crowding trees dripped moisture down on the two
men, falling like rain. The wet and shade offered no respite from
the humidity. The damp air was thick and hot, hard to drag into the
lungs. Clajak wasn’t sure if he was soaked more from the heavy air
or the sweat pouring from him.

He couldn’t think of that now. They
needed to get as far into concealment as possible.

That demand ended the moment Clajak
felt a telltale shaking beneath his feet. The overgrown ground
rumbled, as if an earthquake had begun. It grew
stronger.

He slammed to a stop, turning to Egilka
and jerking his companion to a standstill. Egilka looked worse for
wear after suffering the beating and chase through the leaden air.
Clajak wanted to take care of the Imdiko’s hurts, but right now he
had to keep his would-be clanmate alive.

Hearing the desperation in his own
voice, Clajak hissed, “Stop right here. Don’t fucking move,
Egilka.”

Egilka heaved for air. He looked ready
to bolt nonetheless. He twisted his long body, looking back the way
they had come. Underbrush crashed in that direction.

“They’re still coming, Clajak,” he
said. His voice pitched high in panic. “We have to run!”

The ground shook harder than ever. It
bucked beneath Clajak’s booted feet. Every instinct told him to do
as Egilka said, to run as he’d never run before, to get away from
the danger coming from two different directions. The Dramok knew to
do so would be fatal.

He jerked Egilka to his body, one arm
circling around the Imdiko’s back. He used his other hand to cover
Egilka’s mouth. As the shuddering jungle floor made them sway
drunkenly, he whispered in his companion’s ear. “Shut up. We’ve got
bigger problems than Tragooms right now. Stay still and be
quiet.”

He pulled back enough to look with
desperate intensity into Egilka’s face. The Imdiko’s eyes were wide
as he stared back. He didn’t struggle and he didn’t try to
talk.

A surge of power beneath the earth
nearly took them off their feet. Egilka’s face went pale. His eyes
rolled from one side to the other as he looked for the cause of the
quake.

A tight band of pressure circled
Clajak’s ribs. It made it harder than ever to breathe. It was
Egilka. The Imdiko’s arms wrapped around Clajak’s torso and tensed
as terror grew. As the rumbling ground turned thunderous in his
ears, the prince didn’t dare try to extricate himself from the
crushing grip.

All at once, the ground stilled and the
thundering ceased. Silent seconds ticked by. After about two
minutes, Egilka’s death grip relaxed. Clajak felt his companion’s
mouth open beneath his fingers, readying to speak.

It was Clajak’s turn to squeeze tight.
He gave a barely perceptible shake of his head, warning Egilka. The
Dramok knew the sheclir was close by. It waited for the most minute
tremble to tell it where its prey was. He had no idea how sensitive
the beast was to motion. He didn’t want to find out.

Crashing sounds came from the direction
they’d run. The Tragooms ignored caution as they continued to hunt
Clajak and Egilka. From the amount of noise they made, Clajak knew
they were close by. His fangs descended. His body fought his
control, demanding to either fight or flee. Egilka also tensed. He
jerked in Clajak’s hold, trying to run.

Clajak let go of the Imdiko’s mouth so
that he could hold onto the other man with both arms. Egilka
strained against him, but couldn’t take a single step away. Clajak
felt a flash of gratitude that his strength was the greater of the
two. One step, one detected thud, and it would all be
over.

Again he put his mouth to Egilka’s ear,
whispering when he wanted to scream. “Don’t move!”

The rumble began again, soft and
questing. Clajak barely heard it for the loud thuds of the Tragooms
coming for them, shoving their way through thick vegetation,
stomping in their progress towards the Kalquorians. Any moment now
they would heave into view. Then Clajak and Egilka would have to
run, to stave off death for a handful of seconds.