Daegon: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Alien-Human Military Romance) (14 page)

The Yemalan officer roared now, nearly deafening her for real. Then Zoey pressed on, saying what she'd really come to say. If Arboc could use that trick, so could she. After all, she was a Union negotiator, broker of peace and unity.

"Me – Union. Union give world. Union not betray. Not this world. Another."

That got the Yemalan's attention. His eyes were filled to the brink with hate and suspicion, and Zoey couldn't blame him. His whole species had just been used to fight a war for someone who considered them animals. There was no reason for him to trust her.

Switching to Corgan for clarity, she tried to put as much conviction into her words as she possibly could, "The Union doesn't think you're animals. We will give you a world. But not this one. An empty one. If you help us."

After another moment that lasted forever, the Yemalan said, "Yes."

The relief was so great that Zoey felt it overwhelm her. Had she done it, had she really done it? She hoped the officer was high-ranked enough to be able to make that kind of a promise. She wanted to ask him, but there were noises in the corridor outside.

Corgans. Not the good kind.

The Yemalan officer turned to her.

"World," he said. "Our world."

"I promise," Zoey replied. "I won't betray you."

Then the officer opened his comm link and spoke into it. With every word, the Yemalan soldiers behind him livened, until they were howling and stomping their feet. Zoey could hear the screaming outside grow louder. Now the screams of the victims mixed with the shrill voices of the Yemalan.

She realized she had to get away, fast. There would be no talking to Arboc anymore.

Leaving the Yemalan to enact their revenge, she dashed out of the room. Looking back the way she'd come, Zoey saw Arboc and his warriors standing at the other end of a long hallway.

She'd done it. She had gotten the Yemalan to change sides, which meant that the little unarmed girl in a great big war was now the target of every Corgan warrior Arboc had.

Zoey turned on her heels and ran.

Daegon
.

She needed to reach Daegon before Arboc caught her. Execution was out of the picture and eternal torture was much more likely.

N
o stairs had ever felt longer
or steeper.

Daegon took four steps at a time, cutting down everyone who stood in his way. Zoey's scream kept repeating in his mind, cutting more deeply with every second that passed. Down below he could see only mayhem. His warriors and the Union were trying to figure out what was going on and how to deal with the Yemalan, but it was obvious enough for him.

Zoey had somehow gotten the raiders to switch sides. If he had to guess, Daegon would have thought that it was Arboc's fault. He had taken such pride in his intention to betray the creatures that it was no wonder it only needed a small push for the truth to come out.

With the Yemalan out of the way, it only left Arboc's clan. Together with the Union and perhaps even the Yemalan – although it felt odd to rely on them – there was no question of who would be the victor. All Arboc could do now was take everything he could down with him.

And that included Zoey.

Mainly her,
Daegon thought, now that she'd dealt a much worse wound to him than the one on his neck.

He rushed past Yemalan troops that stood out of the way as he ran. It took him a few moments to see that they were pointing.

Zoey's coming truly had changed the world he lived in, Daegon thought, dashing on. If someone had told him a week, no, even one day ago that he would be following Yemalan directions... And now he trusted them with Zoey's life.

The thing was, they were all pointing in one direction. Daegon had been in the temple before and knew very well where the hallway he was running through was leading. Zoey clearly hadn't, otherwise she would never have run for a dead end.

And not just any dead end.

The temple's original purpose was unknown, even to the Corgans themselves. Their best guess was that the builders had intended The Chieftain to be exactly that, a stronghold for their people. It was suitable for living in, if properly furnished and replenished.

And the architects hadn't forgotten aesthetics either. The statue was of a Corgan warrior, a leader of his people. That meant he had two swords. He held one of them fairly loosely in his hand, but that was deceptive. It was an old move and the hand could rise with the speed of lightning to strike at any weakness the enemy showed.

The other hand was outstretched, holding an invisible enemy at point. That sword, longer than an average cruiser ship, was a platform. People could walk on it and enjoy the view it offered of Poural.

That's where Daegon was headed, and it was where Arboc had gone too, judging by the fact that he had to fight tougher and tougher enemies. A part of him admired the other clan lord. Even in his defeat, his warriors remained loyal.

Daegon could see bitter disappointment in their blue eyes, when several captains faced him. They might have hated Arboc for his failure, but they loathed him and Nadar more.

He understood. They were Corgans, after all. Death meant nothing compared to conviction. They believed he was wrong and the fact that they knew he would kill them didn't matter. It was merely the end they'd chosen a long while ago when they’d decided to oppose him.

Considering that he had had doubts about Nadar's new way as well, Daegon almost felt sorry for them. It reflected in nothing other than quick deaths. He could have made them painful and agonizingly long, but the warlord aimed at hearts and lungs and throats. Not only because he needed to reach Zoey, but since in their defiance, Arboc's warriors were much greater men than the lord himself.

He
hid, not only behind the backs of his warriors, but behind Zoey as well.

Bright light bit at his eyes when Daegon emerged on the platform and a familiar sight greeted him. Even Zoey seemed a bit embarrassed by being found at sword point, again.

Daegon didn't care. It would be the last time. If they lived through the day, he would start locking her up every time he went to war.

A thought crossed his mind – he had already decided that Zoey would stay with him, but there was no other way. After all they'd gone through, they deserved it.

Arboc said nothing. This time, Zoey sat on the ground with her back to the platform's edge. Daegon had to fight the urge to simply carve out the traitor's heart with his bare hands, seeing signs of Arboc's fists on her beautiful face. She looked at Daegon, tears of pain rolling down her cheeks, but her smile was victorious.

"You're alive," she whispered. "And I did it, I –"

A poke from Arboc's sword shut her up. The uniform she wore was torn and the traitor's sword stabbed at her exposed flesh. With a groan, Zoey pressed her hand down on the wound.

Daegon took a step closer, but Arboc held up his hand. There was no sign of the sick joy he'd spoken with before. No emotion at all, only resolve. With empty eyes, the other lord looked at Daegon.

"That's a pretty impressive run," he said tiredly. "Some men wouldn't have reached the platform so quickly, even if there
weren't
extremely skilled warriors in the way."

Only one emotion seemed to have stayed. Cruelty seeped into his blue eyes as the traitor's thin lips curled in a humorless smirk.

"You must love her."

Daegon didn't reply. He couldn't find any words. Seeing Zoey slumped over, bleeding, had stopped him. Together, they'd taken everything from Arboc. How did you bargain with a man who had nothing left to lose?

With any other warrior, he would have emphasized their honor. It was a fitting end, for them to duel for the victory, finding out once and for all who was better. But Arboc had no pride in his body, only hatred.

The traitor's grin got wider.

"You do," he stated. "How beautiful. I can do this much then, at least. There is nothing for me but death, I know that. The men below, your warriors, the Yemalan... I can't use her against them. Less sentimental, you know. So I think I'll meet my end in another way and take her along."

He dragged Zoey up by her hair. In her weakened state, she was nothing but a doll in his hands. Daegon noticed she no longer had her glove, nor her gun.

He will do it. Arboc sees no way out of this; he really will take her from me as his last strike.

Daegon struggled for words once more. If Arboc went through with his threat, it would mean he'd won. No matter the actual outcome of the war, Daegon would lose everything with Zoey's death.

"No," he said, unthinking.

Arboc laughed, cold and hollow. His broken voice was a reminder of Zoey's glove. Daegon couldn't imagine he would want to let the person who ruined his plans go. All he could count on was that the traitor hated him more.

"You should know better, Daegon," Arboc said, a hint of pity in his voice. "You can't plead with me. All I want is for you to watch this happen, knowing you couldn't save her."

"I can," Daegon replied. "If I die instead."

Arboc's eyes went wide as Zoey screamed, "No!"

Daegon didn't listen to her, keeping his gaze locked on Arboc. The other lord regarded him seriously, trying to find the trick.

"What do you mean?" he asked, keeping the struggling Zoey in check.

She was fighting him with all her strength, but even without the wound she would have been no match for the warlord.

"Stop, Zoey," Daegon said, "you'll make your injuries worse."

Turning to Arboc, he explained, "If I walk off this platform in her stead, will you let her go?"

His offer made Arboc grin so wildly it appeared to almost hurt. The other clan lord stared at him from under the strands of his dark hair.

"Yes," he said. "She can do nothing more to me than she already has."

"Daegon," Zoey interrupted. "Don't do this! You can't possibly believe him!"

He came closer, seeing Arboc become defensive at once. Daegon shook his head sadly.

"I just wanted to say goodbye," he said.

"You can do it from where you stand," Arboc snapped back.

Daegon judged the distance to them. He wished there was a way he could warn Zoey, tell her to throw herself free. There was no way he'd act blindly when there was a way he could hit her instead.

"Don't make her watch," he asked. "Do that one thing for me.”

The look in Zoey's eyes was terrible to behold. She was starting to realize he was actually going to do it. She redoubled her efforts to break free, but Arboc refused to let this last chance to enact his will slip by. His eyes were hungry all of a sudden, the desperation burning in them.

Daegon had guessed correctly – he was willing to give him everything in exchange for his life. He pushed Zoey away harshly and she fell against the platform's edge, sliding down to the ground.

She started to stand up, but Arboc's sword blocked her way. Even that wasn't enough. With her bare hand, she started to push the blade away.

"Stop," Daegon ordered curtly and she jumped back like she'd been hit, confusion plain in her eyes. "Don't make this needlessly difficult, Zoey."

She shook her head in denial.

"Daegon, please, don't do this, he won't..."

A Corgan warlord was able to do many things, among others, judge distances with incredible precision. Before Zoey could finish or move from where she was, before Arboc managed to figure out there was no way he'd leave her in the hands of that maniac, Daegon jumped off the edge.

He could hear Arboc's victorious cry, but there were more pressing issues.

The platform had a ledge, reaching to his waist, but like the structure itself, it had been damaged by time and the bombardment. Through the hole in the ledge, Daegon had seen an extending little extrusion that he hoped could bear his weight.

His reflexes had to be perfect, not to mention the daunting task of holding his weight with one arm.

He stepped off the platform, hearing Zoey scream and Arboc cry out in joy. Everything happened within a second. Arboc forgot about Zoey and rushed to see him fall, his hated enemy plunging to his death. They were up so high that one couldn't see anything on the ground from the ledge.

Holding the weight of him and his armor up with one arm, Daegon waited. When he saw Arboc's shadow lean over the edge, he struck. The sword had still been in his hand when he fell, and now he swung at Arboc with all his might. He could hear the other warlord roar in pain and frustration, and the figure above him disappeared.

Not waiting to see what had happened to him, Daegon flung himself back to the opening in the edge and pulled his body up.

Zoey had done the only smart thing and dashed away from Arboc, running past him. Now Daegon had Zoey at his back and Arboc, at last, alone in front of him.

He hadn't scored a perfect hit, not by a long shot, but it had worked. Arboc's left shoulder was bleeding, but other than that, he was still capable of fighting. Seeing that there was no other way for it to end, the traitor finally faced him, bringing his twin blades up.

Daegon could hear Zoey trying to catch her breath. The wound in her side was pretty nasty, but he thanked all the spirits that she had managed to get to safety. Now all he had to do was take her to the healers – right after he'd dealt with Arboc.

The other lord regarded him with a smile.

"It is such a pity," he began. "We could have used a man like you, Daegon. If you had only seen reason, we would already be the rulers of this world."

"I have no wish to rule this world," Daegon replied coldly. "I have my own home world to look after. This belongs to the chieftain, Nadar."

Mentioning him flamed forth such rage within Arboc that Daegon thought he'd explode.

"
Him
," the traitor growled. "You would betray the true Corgan way for him?"

"I'm beginning to realize what he means," Daegon shot back, enjoying the wince on Arboc's face. "By saying that we make our own destinies. That we can leave things that no longer fit us behind."

"Like the
ways of your people
?" Arboc roared.

"You," Daegon said, raising his sword, distantly aware that he was mirroring the pose of The Chieftain, "are not a Corgan. And I will deal with you like I would with any traitor."

Seeing that there was nothing else he could say, Arboc surged forward. Now, backed into a corner, he fought Daegon at last. After all, he hadn’t come by his position by accident. Arboc was quick and clever, dodging between Daegon's strikes, but he answered with the same. For long minutes, there was no other sound but the clashes of metal upon metal and the wind around them.

Two swords were twice the trouble, and offering two shields. It was harder to find the killing strike than Daegon had thought, but step by step, he forced Arboc back to where the platform ended.

When he saw Arboc look around, Daegon glared. There was no way he'd allow the traitor to take the coward's way out.

The momentary lapse of attention cost Arboc his chance. Daegon sprung closer as soon as he saw the other avert his eyes from him. The long, thin blade of his sword slipped between Arboc's, going right through his already wounded shoulder.

The traitor screamed in agony as Daegon twisted the blade in the wound. Unable to bear it, Arboc dropped one sword. But his other hand was still alright and Daegon could feel the cold metal cutting into his flesh above his hip. It was a risk he'd been willing to take. In the next second, his fist hit Arboc's face, sending him falling backwards.

From there, it was over. Arboc still had one sword, he had pulled it free from the wound he'd dealt Daegon, but he was down. Standing above him, Daegon stepped on the hand still gripping the weapon, pushing down until Arboc let it drop and then knocking it away.

Zoey came closer, limping, still applying pressure to the wound in her belly. She was very pale. Daegon wanted nothing more than to leave Arboc there to rot and suffer until death delivered its mercy. But Zoey had seen enough horror for a lifetime.

"Turn away, my love," he said, and when she turned her back, he cut Arboc's throat with precision he didn't think the traitor deserved.

He supposed it didn't matter. Every means of dying ends in death.

Together, he and Zoey left the dark temple behind.