Rise of the Shadow Warriors (18 page)

“Helsa. It’s bad, Warlord Argan. Hurry,” Justan said to Argan, chasing after her.

Argan didn’t like this at all. Shaina cried out moments before he burst through the entrance, shoving aside the curtain and drawing his sword. The main room appeared the same but Shaina’s cries could be heard from the back. Argan raced to their bedroom expecting to confront an enemy and froze at the destruction.

Their bed upon first glance looked undisturbed. The rich gold sheets neatly made after their bed play this morning tide. Pillows plumped at the top. But then his gaze landed on the beautifully crafted headboard he had admired. Chunks of dark wood lay shattered on the floor, large strips ripped away and hacked with obvious intent to hurt. Shaina stood across the room, palms pressed to her temples. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

Argan sheathed his sword and approached her as he would a wounded tarka wolf. “Shaina?”

Dimly he heard Justan yelling for others but Argan only had eyes for his bride.

“My f-father made this for my mother as his mate bonding gift.”

The significance of her statement kicked him in the gut and explained the targeted damage. Argan hesitated, unsure how to respond. Her pain tore at him. With utmost care he wrapped his arms around her and she fell into the embrace with a choked cry. Her shoulders shook as she cried and Argan’s rage slowly built. Only one person would have reason to do this knowing the impact it would have on Shaina.

His heart thudded in his chest with the stirrings of battle. No one would hurt his bride this deeply and walk away unscathed.

Voices interrupted. People invaded their private space taking in what had happened. Murmurs of sympathy. One voice stood out.

“My Queen, are you alright?”

Mandok. Argan lifted his head from Shaina’s to stare over her shoulder. Mandok’s eyes glowed in pleasure at her grief.

Argan eased Shaina away, knowing in his gut Mandok was responsible for this. He lunged for him. Someone screamed and another attempted to stop him but Argan had Mandok’s neck in his hand and slammed the warrior into the wall. Mandok struggled in his grip, punching Argan’s shoulders, chest and anywhere he could reach.

The blows meant nothing. Argan held him there effortlessly and snarled. “This was your doing.”

His fingers tightened around the warrior’s throat as it turned a bright shade of red. The color flowed into his face, purpling as Mandok’s eyes bulged and he gasped for each breath.

Justan tried to reason. “Argan, you can’t. You have no proof.”

Argan didn’t need proof. He shook the hapfe dung in his hand and lifted him higher enjoying the fear in the no longer gloating eyes.

“Put him down, Argan.”

He froze. Shaina touched his back and repeated her words. “Put him down.”

Argan would see him dead first.

“Please, Argan.”

He shoved Mandok away. He would not have his bride beg on behalf of this one. Mandok fell to the floor coughing and wheezing. Argan lifted his leg, wanting to stomp him into the floor but Shaina slid in front of him blocking the attempt.

Mandok staggered to his feet, hands rubbing at his neck. Darkening bruises already dotted his skin. Argan smirked, wishing he’d managed more.

“The King attacked me,” Mandok said in a raspy voice.

People around them whispered in agreement, once more fearful of the deadly Warlord among them. Argan glanced around. Justan, Shadae, Ceela, Ogar and Alin all watched him.

“I challenge him for the insult,” Mandok gasped out.

Shaina stiffened and started to turn but Argan clasped her to his chest. She didn’t need to look at this one.

“A challenge has been issued.” Ivak entered the room on his announcement surveying the destroyed headboard, an angry Mandok and the crowd.

“Do you accept Warlord of Kaban?” Ivak continued.

Argan preferred to skewer the shep where he stood but he’d promised Shaina he wouldn’t kill anyone today. He didn’t promise he wouldn’t kill anyone in the morning. “I accept his challenge.”

Chapter 22

Shaina refused to sleep in the ruined bed. Showing a gentle understanding she hadn’t expected, Argan had taken the blankets and stretched out with her in the main room on the floor. Shaina spent most of the night tossing for fear of today’s fight.

Her gaze jumped around at the swell of her people surrounding the clearing outside where the match would take place. Every warrior young and old were present with the exception of those on guard duty.

“Because Argan is not Olak’din, Mandok will not call the shadows during the challenge.”

Shaina choked back her relief. She was Queen but as wife to Argan, it would have looked as a favor if she had made the call. Her gaze met Ogar’s in thanks. The elder nodded.

Ivak started to protest but sensed the changing tide of the crowd. None of them were pleased with yesterday’s events. No one had witnessed who’d entered her home and destroyed her bed but Mandok’s behavior in light of the recent challenge made them suspicious. They were probably all reminded of incidents in the past where his aggression made him unlikeable.

Mandok snorted and postured. “I don’t need it to beat him. He’s nothing but a boil that clings to the backside of the Kaban Overlord for prestige.”

Argan’s sudden chuckle caused Mandok to flush. Her husband stood casually in the center of the circle where she’d fought only a week ago. He appeared bored by the proceedings with the exception of the humor he displayed while Mandok spoke.

Fesin cleared his throat. “Yes, well. We will allow blades. The winner shall consider the matter settled.”

“It will be settled when he’s dead,” Mandok declared, thrusting a fist in the air.

Shaina swayed from her cross-legged position on the ground and started to protest. Justan clamped a firm hand on her thigh, fingers biting through the leather. She spared him a glance but he shook his head. Shaina turned back to see Argan removing his chest harness and placing his sword outside the circle. Next he laid the dagger from his thigh sheath on top. When he knelt to remove the one he kept hidden his boot, Shaina thought she’d pass out. What was the fool thinking?

“Mandok, be wise,” Ogar counseled, silver eyes pleading. “This does not have to be a match to the death.”

His chin jutted in the air. “It’s my right for the slur on my honor. To the death.”

Argan rose to his feet and directed his next comment to Mandok. “It is good you said this because it would have pained me to let you continue to breathe after you hurt my bride.”

The mood in the crowd shifted and no one doubted the truth of his words.

Fesin licked his lips, eyes shifting away from the large Warlord with death in his gaze. “You’re allowed your weapons, my King.”

Argan never released Mandok from his stare. “It pleases me to use his own blade to end him for what he did to Shaina.”

“Your husband is not to be trifled with,” Justan murmured in her ear. “
I’m
afraid and I don’t have to face him in challenge.”

Red spread from the tips of Mandok’s ear and suffused his entire face at the blatant insult. “You have no proof.”

Argan didn’t respond. Instead he faced Fesin and Ogar. “Can we begin or must he be allowed more time to bray?”

Nerves caused Shaina to snicker, drawing Mandok’s attention.

“Whore,” he declared and only Argan’s low growl kept her in her seat.

Shaina feared Argan wouldn’t follow the proceeding if he saw Mandok’s words upset her in any fashion. She knew her Warlord husband and Mandok would suffer greatly for his every word against her.

Argan waited, hands loose at his sides. Mandok started with a high kick which Argan avoided by leaning to the side. The calm in the move had Mandok’s face turning bright red. He shifted his stance and punched his right arm out, aiming for Argan’s head. Her husband ducked and his own fist flew out.

Mandok let out an oomph and jumped back. Argan waited again. Shaina curled her hands in her lap to hide the fidgeting. She trusted Argan. Knew he’d win this match but she suspected Mandok would use any means necessary to win and that had her worried.

***

Argan placed each punch carefully, not wanting to end the fight too soon. Already Mandok’s lip bled and his left eye had started to swell. The warrior had some skill as Argan could attest due to the tenderness in his jaw from Mandok’s fist.

Mandok was rash in his fighting though. He didn’t have the patience to see a battle through the distance and that would play in Argan’s favor. Mandok lunged in an attempt to put Argan in a choke hold. They grappled back and forth, breath rasping in harsh gasps.

“Nothing will fix her bed,” Mandok whispered.

Argan roared and threw the warrior from him, uncaring of the scratches on his chest as Mandok raked him in a desperate effort to cling to him.

Mandok rolled across the ground and managed to get to all fours before Argan closed in on him. He grabbed the warrior by the hair and rammed his face into the ground. The resulting crunch and groan fueled his blood lust. Argan placed a knee on Mandok’s shoulders to keep him pinned but Mandok fisted a hand full of dirt mixed with rocks and tossed it in Argan’s face.

Argan jumped back and Mandok kicked at his legs. Argan snarled and stumbled to one knee as he scrubbed at his eyes. The fine grains burned. He should have expected such trickery. A bruising kick landed on his back as Mandok laughed and danced around him.

Argan rose to his feet and blocked out Shaina’s sharp cry. As long as her friend kept her seated he would remain focused on this match. He blinked away the stinging sensation in his eyes and maintained his calm. There were tougher fights in his past but none with so high a cost if he lost. Never would Argan allow this hapfe dung near his bride again.

“Not a mighty warrior as rumors claimed, Kabanian Warlord.” Mandok sneered and withdrew his knife. “I’ll carve you up in front of her very eyes.”

Argan jumped back as the Shadow Warrior slashed out recklessly. The weapon gave Argan the impetus needed and he ran toward Mandok, catching him off guard with the unexpected move. As soon as Argan drew close, he rammed one arm around Mandok’s throat and the other went for the warrior’s forearm bearing the knife. Muscles tensed as Mandok resisted.

Argan strained and wrenched Mandok’s arm up against his back, squeezing Mandok’s fingers until the blade dropped from the warrior’s grasp. Argan snagged it mid-air and grunted in satisfaction. It fit nicely in the palm of his hand.

Argan leaned in low to murmur in Mandok’s ear. “Do you know what a culling is?”

Mandok shook his head, struggling to break Argan’s hold around his neck.

Argan tightened his arm, choking the warrior. “When I wanted to play with my enemy I would cull him.” Argan flicked his wrist downward and Mandok hissed. The blade sliced clean through his lower calf, severing vital muscles.

“You are my enemy,” Argan snarled.

Argan shoved him away, then slowly stepped back. Mandok jolted to his feet then jerked sideways when his weight tried to settle on his injured leg. The glare he shot Argan promised retribution. Argan merely smiled and raised his arm to reveal the dagger in his right hand. Red dripped down the edge to hit the ground with a splat.

“I’m not afraid of you, Kabanian.”

“You do not need to be. It is easy enough to separate the weak from the herd.” The taunt did it.

Mandok growled and charged forward. Argan ducked and slashed at the warrior as he ran past. When Mandok cried out, he grinned. Anger drove the warrior now. Mandok hopped on one leg and turned. Blood ran in rivulets down his side from Argan’s second cut.

“When you struck her, you almost broke her nose.” Argan was not over this one hitting his bride in the face.

“I wish I had broken the bitch’s face.”

Argan stilled. Shaina had won the match fairly but unable to let it go this man had gone after her in the most painful way possible by destroying something that held irreplaceable emotional value to her. Argan willingly ignored the injuries she sustained in the fight. She was a warrior, his woman, and could handle her own battles. What he wouldn’t ignore was this hapfe dung striking out at Shaina in a way Argan could not fix.

“It is unfortunate you said that.” If he had considered letting him live, the thought was now gone. With that one statement, Mandok had sealed his fate.

Mandok roared but wisely didn’t repeat his foolish charge. He circled Argan looking for an opening. The move may have intimidated another but with each step the Shadow Warrior had to drag his injured leg. Argan gave his smile free rein and felt his blood heat with the familiar stirrings of Fenal.

He tamped back the battle rage. The man in front of him was no match for the skills Argan had attained from years on a battle field. Mandok had no idea of what his attack on Shaina unleashed. With rage guiding him, Mandok made his last foolish mistake and came close enough for Argan to act. He tossed the knife to the side and gripped the warrior’s thick neck in his hands and twisted. Bone snapped and Mandok ceased to struggle. Argan dropped the limp body to the ground.

“Argan!”

Shaina rushed toward him. Her hand went to the bruise forming on his side then the small cut over his eye where Mandok had thrown the dirt and rocks.

“I am fine.”

“You’re bleeding.” She frowned as if he’d committed some offense. Outrage glared at him and amazingly, Argan felt the urge to smile.

So fierce. Such a warrior.

“I am fine.” He repeated the assurance but didn’t resist when she clasped his hand and dragged him from the circle. He barely had time to acknowledge the congratulations before his bride led him to their rooms.

“Shaina we have no need to hurry.”

He’d eliminated the immediate threat to her safety.

When they entered their home, she snatched the curtain closed and leaped into his arms. Argan caught her in reflex but staggered back a step. “Shaina?”

Her mouth was on him an instant later, hands gripping his hair.

Argan tightened his hold on her hips and stumbled to the lounge chair. When his butt hit the seat, he tried to pull back from her frantic motions. Silver eyes blazed with inner fire when he got a good luck at her face.

“The fight has roused your desire?”

She squirmed about his lap then rubbed her chest on his in a suggestive manner leaving him in no doubt.

“You were so hot,” she gasped in between kissing his jaw, his lips, his chin. She bit his shoulder and he arched up beneath her.

Blessed One. How did this woman continue to surprise him? Argan had no time to ponder the thought. Shaina’s hands glided down his sides until she reached his leathers. He lifted his hips enough for her to pull them to his thighs. Argan tried to hold her still, to gather his wits but between the trailing kisses Shaina placed across his throat and her shifting hips, he fell under the spell of her passionate touch.

Fingers fumbling, Argan removed her top and struggled with her pants until Shaina laughed and rose to her feet. She removed the leather pants and tossed them to the side. Instead of returning to his lap, Shaina ran her hands through her hair and slid them down her body in a slow, sensuous caress. His eyes were immediately drawn to her toque and the glistening red curls between her thighs.

“Did the fight get your blood pumping, husband?”

“Yes,” Argan groaned and fisted his toqa. Defeating Mandok had stirred his desire as battle often did. He stroked his steely length and leaned back on the lounge. Shaina came toward him, body undulating.

When she neared, her hands smoothed up his thighs causing the muscles to flex. She licked her lips and tipped her head to the side to ask, “Don’t you want to claim your prize?”

“Yes.” The admission rocked him and his rubbing fingers paused mid-pump. Shaina wasn’t a war prize. She was his bride and yet the thought of claiming her, taking her fiercely left him panting.

“Good.” Shaina eased back onto his lap, legs on either side of his as she positioned his throbbing toqa.

Argan moved his hands to cup her swaying breasts, fingers pinching her hardened nipples. She lowered herself onto him until he was buried deep in her heated depths. They moaned at the same time both remaining still as they absorbed the feeling of being connected. Slowly Shaina pushed up with her knees and braced her hands on his shoulders. Her hair fell across his chest as she took him in with steady pumps.

Pleasure tempted him to close his eyes but Argan refused to miss a moment. He released her breasts to reach for the rounded curve of her buttocks. Need propelled him to grip her flesh and slam her faster on his lap.

“Argan!” Shaina screamed his name as he bounced her faster.

Argan jerked upright and pulled her close to his chest. Teeth clenched tight, he ground her against him awash in sensation as her moist center drew him in so deep he wasn’t sure if he could hold out. “I will release, Shaina.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” She tossed her head back, inner muscles flexing on his aching length.

Argan muffled his groan as he exploded and reached his pleasure just as Shaina cried out.