SurrendersMischief (8 page)

He stirred beside her.

Riana closed her eyes, feigning sleep. She waited until he
was out of bed and almost dressed before she spoke.

“Why are the men of Nexar so afraid of women?”

His head shot up and Darias pinned her with a molten-gold
gaze.

“You asked that during your punishment. Where did you get
such a ridiculous notion?” He finished buckling his weapons belt around his
waist.

“It’s obvious. Why else would you reduce women to slaves?”

“All women are not slaves,” he refuted, staring down at her
from his great height. “You,” he pointed out, “are a slave. Bryta is not.”

Riana lowered her lashes so he wouldn’t see the barb had
gotten under her skin. “Explain the difference between my position and
Bryta’s.” She traced a fold in the blue, almost black, spidersilk sheet. The
silk retained the warmth of his body and smelled of sex, evoking memories of
him. Inside her. Hot. Hard. Moving. Her stomach muscles clenched and she
resisted the temptation to throw her plans aside for the moment and jump his
bones. It wasn’t as if she had to worry about consequences. With her five-year
implant, not a chance existed of her getting pregnant.

A good thing since she didn’t know if she could deny a child
his father.

“Bryta belongs to Gaith. She is above you in rank.” Darias
seemed to think that finished the conversation. He sat down and tugged on his
boots.

“I belong to you. You’re above him in rank. And what good is
rank without the power to back it up? Bryta may not issue even the smallest
command to a male, any male. All she is allowed to do is relay her master’s
orders.”

“She is a woman. It is not her place to issue commands.” He
bent and laced the left boot.

Riana got the impression he was avoiding her gaze. She
almost laughed aloud at that thought. Darias was too arrogant, too certain that
his way, Nexar’s way, was the only way.

“I ask again, if the men of Nexar are not afraid of women,
why do they keep them enslaved?”

Darias stood up, his hands on his hips. “The men of Nexar
fear nothing.” A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Don’t push your luck, Riana. I have
been patient with you.”

Riana looked down and subdued a quick flare of anger.

“I have no wish to punish you. Keep fighting and you’ll
force me to act.”

“Prove Nexarian men are not afraid of women,” she taunted,
glancing up and snagging his eyes with her own direct gaze. She let the sheet
slip lower, revealing her naked chest. She felt a surge of triumph as his gaze
lingered on her breasts. “I challenge you to a Battle of Honor.”

“I don’t need to prove anything.” The warm gold of his eyes
turned hard with warning before he propped his foot on the chest at the end of
the bed and began lacing the right boot. A clear indication he was dismissing
her argument.

“Then you are afraid to accept my challenge?” Riana sat up
and the sheet fell to her waist.

His head snapped up, and he straightened. “You test my
indulgence!”

“You fear losing to a woman.” Her statement hung on the air.

“I accept your challenge.”

Riana pushed back the covers and stood. She skirted the bed
until she was a heartbeat from Darias. “If I lose, I will acquiesce to your
ways. All of them,” she emphasized. “I will not flout your commands, resist
your orders or insist women be treated the same as men. But if you lose, if you
lose, then you agree to issue the command that the men and women of Nexar
reverse roles. Men will be subservient to women in all things. They will have
exactly the same rights and privileges that women currently endure.” Riana
paused, her gaze locked with Darias’ molten one. “Do you still accept my
challenge or would you rather back out?” she taunted softly.

“Be in the Great Hall in two hours.” He turned on his heel
and stalked out.

* * * * *

The Great Hall was packed. Riana stood next to Bryta and
stared at the enormous monitors lining the upper walls of the Hall. “What are
those for?” She angled her chin up at the walls.

“They connect all of Nexar with the Great Hall.” Bryta stammered,
wringing her hands. “The entire country-state is watching the Battle,” she
whispered in awe. “Are you sure challenging the Supreme Chief is wise? When you
lose, he’ll be very angry. I heard Gaith say Darias might even make punishment
public,” she said, her voice so low, Riana had to lean down to hear her.

“Have faith in me,” Riana admonished. “I won’t lose.” Her
confidence was placed on more than the mere fact that Darias underestimated her
ability. She had a trick up her sleeve, one she wasn’t prepared to share even
with Bryta. “I have survived a public punishment before, my friend. If worse
comes to worse, I’ll survive this one.”

Bryta was already shaking her head. Tears welled in her
large, soft-gray eyes. “The garden punishment was not public.” She swallowed,
fear making her voice tremble. “Public punishment is reserved for the greatest
crime, a direct affront to a master’s honor. It is a master’s right to demand
that punishment be held in the Great Hall, before all of Nexar. Not since the
Supreme Chief’s father’s time has there been a public punishment.”

Riana turned slowly to face her friend. “You mean punishment
in the garden isn’t considered public? Even though everyone can hear what goes
on?” Her chest tightened as she waited for Bryta’s answer.

Bryta shook her head. “Public punishment is not only held in
the Great Hall, but is broadcast throughout Nexar. The woman must disrobe under
the eyes of all the warriors. She is then strapped onto the Punishment Stone
and must endure being punished from sunrise to sunset. If her master deems it
appropriate, punishment may continue through the night until the following
sunrise. She must stay in the Great Hall, unclothed, until all signs of
punishment have faded. Only then is she allowed to dress. A master can cast off
a woman afterward if the offense is severe enough.” A delicate shudder ran the
length of Bryta’s spine. “You do not want to be cast off.”

Zethra, bearing the humiliation of punishment in the garden
was hard enough. How would she survive public punishment if she failed in her
challenge?

Riana lifted her chin. There was only one option. She would
not fail.

Across the circle, the crowd parted and Darias strode
through. He wore only his breeches and, around his throat, the fireice badge of
rank that proclaimed him Supreme Chief. He paused beside Gaith and slipped the
pendant off, passing it to him.

“All will be well, Bryta. Trust me.” Riana couldn’t take her
eyes off Darias. The man really was a magnificent beast. She smiled thinly.

Soon he would be a caged beast.

The small woman put her hand on Riana’s shoulder for a
fleeting moment. “I hope so or I will share your fate.”

For the first time Riana realized that by standing beside
her, Bryta was declaring her loyalty to her as well as defying those
thrice-damned rules. The muscles in her face tightened. She wouldn’t let her
friend down.

“Darias, you should punish the woman and forget this
nonsense.” Gaith’s shout rang out over the crowd.

Darias turned slowly. “Do you question my handling of my
slave?”

“Of course not,” the warrior dismissed impatiently. “But
you’ve allowed this woman, an offworlder at that, to set a bad precedent. She
doesn’t stand a chance, but by giving weight to her challenge the seeds of
rebellion may be sown.”

“Do you so fear one woman?”

Riana started, realizing Darias was using her argument
against his own warrior.

The warrior flushed. “No. I apologize.”

Darias turned back to the center of the circle, his gaze
finding and locking with hers. He walked until less than a meter separated
them. When he spoke, his words didn’t carry past her ears.

“I will make punishment private if you cease this
foolishness and apologize in front of my warriors.”

She answered him with a backhand across the mouth that split
his lip.

Darias wiped the smear of blood away then stared at the drop
of bright red glistening on his fingers. He lifted his gaze, utterly impassive.
“I’ll take that as a no.” He lashed out with his forearm.

Riana blocked the blow, but the force of it nearly broke her
arm. She knew she couldn’t allow this fight on his terms. Physically, he was
much stronger. She was quicker, however. She also possessed another advantage.
Despite having shown some skill at fighting during their first meeting, Darias
wouldn’t see past his preconceptions of her gender. She fully intended to make
his blindness his downfall.

Inactivity took its toll, however. Within minutes, her
breath labored in her chest. Sweat dripped into her eyes. Impatiently, she
shook her head, clearing her vision. To her disgust, Darias had barely broken a
sweat.

Her arm ached from his first blow and her right thigh burned
with pain from another. But, she thought in grim satisfaction, he was no longer
smiling. Twice she had taken him down to the mat. She circled him, giving
herself a minute to catch her breath. Suddenly, she dropped to the floor,
sweeping her left leg out in an arc. The maneuver caught Darias right behind
the knee. He landed on his back.

She was on him in an instant, an arm across his throat,
cutting his supply of oxygen. The electronic signal beeped the count.
“Concede?” she panted.

“No,” he bit out, and wedged his arm under her throat.
Instead of shoving her onto her back, he smiled. She knew then that he was
playing with her, allowing her to hope she could prevail.

It was an effective tactic.

Or would have been if she didn’t have a trick of her own up
her sleeve.

Her heart beat painfully in her chest and her lungs labored
for air. Would it work? Even if it did, how long would it immobile a man the
size of Darias? She sent a quick prayer to Zethra then leaned in closer until
her mouth was right next to his ear. “You will.” She moved quickly and pressed
a thumb on each side of his neck.

She saw the quick flare of rage and desperation in Darias’
amber eyes as his muscles froze, the nerves paralyzed by the very specific
application of pressure. She grinned and straddled his massive chest, pushing
his shoulders flat to the floor. She leaned down and took his mouth with hers
in an unmistakable gesture of victory.

Dead silence filled the Great Hall as the electronic signal
shrilled the final count. Warriors stared, unable to believe their eyes. Their
Chief had been defeated—by a woman. Slowly, gaining momentum a little at a
time, a cheer arose until it filled the cavernous room. At first it was a few
voices then a few dozen, finally several hundred feminine screams filled the
air.

Riana lifted her mouth and opened her eyes. She stared down
at Darias, into a gaze the color of tarnished gold. Male musk rose from his hot
and sweaty body. A fierce rush of arousal hardened her nipples and pooled
between her legs. “You lose,” she whispered next to his ear. She lifted a lock
of damp hair from across his eyes with her mouth. The black hair felt like
spidersilk on her lips, stirring the lust already simmering in her blood.

“No,” he rejected, his voice a harsh whisper. Denial sparked
his golden eyes, making them burn.

She reached down and took his lower lip between her teeth.
She tugged sharply, and was rewarded with his sharply indrawn breath. “Admit
it. You lost. According to the terms of our wager, the winner owns the loser,
body and soul. Say it,” she ordered.

She could see Darias’ inner struggle, could feel his need to
deny reality. She also saw the moment when honor won.

“I’m yours.”

“Louder. I want every one of your warriors to hear you.”

Dull color stained the hard cheeks. “I belong to you.”

“Body and soul,” she prompted.

“Body and soul, I belong to you.” His roar drowned out the
sound of the women cheering. Silence once more descended.

“Again.”

“I belong to you, body and soul.”

Riana dipped her head and kissed Darias for all to see. It
was a mark of pure possession. Her tongue darted inside his mouth and danced
over the ridges in the roof of his mouth.

Shivers raced over the exposed flesh of his chest, and a
deep shudder racked his muscles. His hips flexed involuntarily.

Riana pulled back, and he groaned.

She stood up, and held one hand down to Darias.

He stared at it for a moment then back up at her before
finally placing his hand in hers. His huge paw swallowed hers as she helped him
stand.

He stumbled for a second before finding his balance. Within
minutes, the full effect of the nerve pinch would wear off.

She owed the good lieutenant a bottle of his favorite wine.
She smiled. Perhaps she’d get Sharri to deliver it for her.

“Do you uphold your end of the wager or are you without
honor?” she goaded when he remained mute.

The cords in his throat pulsed violently at the taunt. He
turned to the crowd.

“I give you the Supreme Chief of Nexar.” Muted rumbles
threatened to get out of control. Darias raised his hand.

Riana was impressed with the quick obedience of his
warriors, especially considering the circumstances.

“I gave my word. Nexar is no longer ruled by men. We will
obey our women and give them the same respect we have commanded.” He held his
hand out to Gaith, a silent order to hand over the Badge of Rank.

Only Riana saw the fine tremor in his fingers as he slipped
the pendant—a dragon in flight, gaping jaws open in a roar—over her head.

Darias slowly knelt before her, his head bowed.

Riana stared at the lowered head. She’d done it. She was
free. The women of Nexar were free, chattel no more. “Kneel to your mistresses,
men,” she ordered, her command ringing from one end of the Great Hall to the
other. One by one, resistance and resentment eloquent in the posture, the
warriors of Nexar went down on bended knee in front of the women.