The Dragon Sands Box Set: Books 1 - 3 Page 4

  “Anything else—” he stammered. “No, take your leave.”

  She stood, bowed low, and left out the front door, back out into the cool breeze under the moonlight. She didn’t realize it, but the liquid made her sweat and the winds felt refreshing. Her body and mind did feel slower, and more relaxed, but she was left with an awful taste in her mouth. She went over to a fountain and drank handfuls of water, and then went off back to her barracks.

  Later that night, after she’d rested slightly, and the other girls were sound asleep, Lilaci made her way silently out of her bunk and left the barracks. He knew he’d be waiting for her, and she wanted nothing more than to see his face. Her weariness and grogginess had made her stealth and instincts slower and she was less alert, and she didn’t notice the footsteps of another.

  Sinking into the shadows and avoiding the bright shine of the moon overhead, she shot through streets of Sorock like the breeze. She was invisible and delicate as she approached his welcoming eyes and kind smile.

  He didn’t speak as she ran over and swept into the dark crevasse next to Gogenanth. She sat next to him, with their arms and shoulders touching one another’s. That was all it took for her to become comfortable. Living a life full of beatings, and fighting, her nerves calmed and felt her body relax next to him, and she assumed he felt the same way.

  They sat there for an hour, looking out at the stars, and at the bright moon’s light. She listened to the breeze as it drifted through the walls and buildings of Sorock. She hung her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, and he reached over and put his hand on her knee.

  She dreamed of being alone with him, out on the sands. With no walls, no doors, and nobody else to tell them how to live their lives. She imagined them lying on their backs under the sky of infinite stars. There was no palace overlooking them from on high. There were no instructors to appease, no other girls to fight— no one. It was just them alone . . . free.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she asked softly.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you afraid?”

  He thought for a moment. “Yes.”

  “Me too,” she said. “I feel like everyone here is out to get me. To get us. I feel like the commander is up to something, but I don’t know what.”

  “Yes, they keep us in the shadows,” he said. “It’s infuriating to me that we’re not allowed to track time here. I was scolded for trying to mark the days long ago. I don’t even know how long I’ve been here— how long we’ve been sneaking away at night to see each other. They’ve even managed to take away time from us.”

  “You told me that we were taken by the Scaethers and walked the sands together to get here,” she said. “I only vaguely remember that, but my heart and soul are torn. I don’t know if I’ll ever want to return to the sands: that’s where all of this pain and these tears were born.”

  “The sands didn’t cause your pain. This place did, and the Scaethers did. Out on the sands is no worse than being here, except out there is the only freedom we would ever know,” he said. “It’s truly saddening how this place has become our home.”

  “Do you think the Scaethers ever get to be free?” she asked. “Is there a point where they let you go, to live a life?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “I’d wager death is the only release from that prison. A true torment it is, to come from the brutality of being taken by the Scaethers, to being trained to be one. The Six Gods are truly as cruel as the stories say. The gods command that we’re to be used, and that the greatest honor is death in battle. There’s no other way to leave.”

  “They made me fight two of the other girls today.”

  “I saw. You did well,” he said.

  “What if they make me fight three next time? Or ten?”

  “Then you will fight,” he said. “And you will win.”

  “I don’t think they’re ever going to stop until I lose, or I’m dead.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” he said.

  “Thank you, Gogenanth. It's nice to know that someone in here cares,” she said.

  “As far as I can tell, you and me. . . We are connected by fate. It's no coincidence that we arrived here together, and are going through this together. Our fates are intertwined.”

  “Yes,” she said. “It feels that way, does it not?”

  They sat there for another hour, until the first light of dawn was beginning to creep into the night sky.

  “Goodnight,” Gogenanth said to her.

  “Goodnight, until tomorrow?” she asked.

  He nodded with a smile, and he slid back into the shadows and was out of sight quickly.

  Lilaci shot off back towards her bunk, and slid back through her window and silently fell into her bunk, and was quickly asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Once the warm light of the sun had reached its fingers into their bunkhouse, Lilaci arose from her bed. She’d only gotten less than a handful of hours of sleep, and stretched her arms out wide and yawned. She stood and walked over to her water basin to perform her cleaning ritual before breakfast, and whatever training they had planned for her that day.

  The day brought with it strong, gusting winds that blew sand high over the tall walls of Sorock. Lilaci expected some sort of lesson from the teachers about mixing poisons or reading of strategy. She was wrong.

  The girls walked single-file out into the main fighting pit area. Lilaci looked out into it to see roughly one hundred people standing around the large pit. It was encircled with a long rope and the hard dirt in it had become dark in places from the staining of blood. There were eight weapons racks of all varieties of swords, spears, maces, and all the like.

  At the head of the fighting pit was Veranor, the commander, looking stoic and menacing as always. The teachers all stood at his sides, all twelve of them. Lilaci couldn’t believe they’d be expected to fight again, that would make it three days in a row. She’d never heard of any of the girls expected to fight two days in a row, let alone three.

  The boys, on the other hand, could fight five days in a row, as they usually came out of Sorock as soldiers, and fighters. The girls usually came out as assassins or scouts. In their fights, the girls had one or two rounds of combat, compared to the boys’ two to three.

  Lilaci and the other girls went and stood at their side of the fighting ring, and Lilaci’s eyes instantly went to Gogenanth’s. She fought hard to keep from smiling, but she felt it cross her face as she looked into his eyes from across the pit. It was hardly noticeable but she caught the inkling of a smile come across his.

  Veranor and the teachers went about welcoming everyone to the fighting pit, but Lilaci didn’t pay much attention, as she assumed the fights wouldn’t have to do with her. Her attention did perk once she saw a group of six men walk over to the pit from a small clay building off to the side. They all had the distinctive widow’s peak with their black hair and they all had the same pale skin they all shared, but they were older, and had a confident pace in their stride.

  “Scaethers,” she whispered to herself. She didn’t recognize any of them, but she found her heart racing, and she clenched her teeth. Lilaci knew that many of the ones training in Sorock would become Scaethers, the slavers of the Arr, but none of them had killed or kidnapped, at least not yet.

  One of the Scaethers went over and whispered something in Veranor’s ear, and he whispered something back. The Scaether, who was stout and broad for their kind, went to the circle and began speaking to the crowd in their native tongue. Lilaci had trouble understanding his accent, but picked out certain words: fight, test and challenge.

  She looked over at Gogenanth, and tried to gauge his expression, but he carried about him his normal confidence. Lilaci could tell he had no worries about being in battle. The Scaether pointed out to one of the boys, and then to another. The first went and grabbed a long sword, and the other a great spear.

  They went into the pit and bowed to their superiors; the commander, the t
eachers and the Scaethers. With a clap of his hands, the battle began, and both men fought with ferocity against each other. Lilaci watched them parry back and forth, as she was evaluating their technique. Then, to her surprise, the boy with the spear slashed the other’s arm, and blood began pouring down it, spattering on the dry ground as the winds whistled as they blew through.

  “They sharpened the weapons?” she said to herself. “Why would they do that?”

  Normally, the weapons were dull. They’d still leave a nasty bruise, but they weren’t lethal, it seemed the Scaethers had changed that. Is this what the next round of testing in front of the commander is to be? Are we to fight until one of us dies? None of us are trained to lose, especially in front of him. I know how this is going to end, they are all going to fight as if the weapons weren’t lethal. What’re they thinking? Why is Elan letting this happen? Does she know?

  The bloody fight went on, and one of the boys went into a furious rage. They were close to killing one another, blood flowing from both of their veins, when she looked with shock to see Gogenanth entered the ring.

  “Ort!,” he yelled out. That was their word for ‘halt’. What is Gogenanth doing?

  “Arriva,” one of the Scaethers yelled back, which meant to continue.

  Lilaci was worried for Gogenanth, as he was stepping past his rank, and arguing with a superior. Veranor seemed irritated by Gogenanth’s action.

  He went over and continued telling the two boys to halt, and then they had a conversation Lilaci didn’t fully understand. It escalated to the boy with the sword drawing his hand back to continue fighting with the other, but Gogenanth grabbed his hand and whispered something to him, motioning towards the blood running down his limbs.

  The boy, full of rage, walked off and out of the pit in the direction of the infirmary. The stout Scaether walked over to Gogenanth casually, and hit him in the stomach with the hilt of his sword. Gogenanth didn’t even try to deflect the blow, that would’ve been a direct move of insubordination against a Scaether. Lilaci wanted nothing more than to run out and help him, even kill the Scaether, but she knew it would only escalate the situation.

  Gogenanth went and returned to his position out of the ring. She could tell he was happy with the resolution, it appeared he was worried about the other boy who’d walked off. Then the stout Scaether went back to his position. Gogenanth may have just saved that boy’s life, and for his courage and thanks, he gets beat. That is the way of Sorock isn’t it? It’s only good to be strong and Oncur if you’re following the rules the whole time.

  The stout Scaether scanned the crowd, and pointed out to a tall boy standing next to Gogenanth. He had wide shoulders and lean muscles. “You,” he said.

  Then, without scanning the area, he looked directly at Lilaci. “You,” he said.

  What? Me? He wants me to fight one of the boys? That boy is just as tall as Gogenanth, and nearly as strong. They’ve never had the girls fight the boys before. And this time with sharpened weapons? What is going on here? I could die in this fight. Maybe— they’re using that fear to make me fight to my highest potential, or perhaps they’re tired of me being Oncur. Either way, I’m going to win, or die trying.

  She looked over at Commander Veranor, who had a look of intrigue on his face. He’s enjoying this. The teachers looked partly confused, but none spoke up. Elan had a look of grave concern on her face, but it wasn’t even her place to interject with the will of the commander. Everyone knew that he was the only one with the rank to supersede the Scaethers.

  “Alright,” she said to herself. “Here we go.”

  She went over to the weapons rack next to her. As she walked past the other girls, Fewn smiled at her. “Good luck,” she sneered.

  Scanning the rack, she knew she’d have to be agile with light weapons, but needed protection from the hulking boy. She reached out and grabbed a curved sword with an ivory handle wrapped in black leather. In the other hand she placed a medium-sized, round metal shield with iron flanges the shape of winged dragons. She felt the weight of the sword in her hand, and felt comfortable with it. Running her finger across the edge of the blade, blood was almost instantly drawn from it.

  Chapter Eight

  Lilaci made her way over to the pit and stood fifteen paces across from the boy. He had a large scimitar firmly in his hand that reflected brightly in the overhead sunlight. He didn’t seem to be concerned of fighting with a girl. The muscles in his legs tightened as he shifted his weight from side to side, eager to fight.

  The stout Scaether looked over at Gogenanth, and spoke to him in his thick accent. The only words that Lilaci could make out were: Keln, and month. He was threatening him with being thrown in that small box for a month if he interfered.

  Veranor paused briefly before starting the fight, but not long after, he clapped his hands and the fight had officially begun. The boy lunged at her and she ran at him. Their weapons collided with a flash of steel. Lilaci could tell instantly she was at a disadvantage with the boy’s great strength, and she was forced back. Dust rose up into the air from her boots as she was shoved back.

  He slashed wildly at her, and she deflected as much as she could, and evaded the rest. Whoosh, a slash of his blade brushed past, over her shoulder. The small hairs on the back of her neck stood up straight as the great sword slashed just over her eyes as she leaned back to evade the strong swipe. She leapt back to get some distance from the tall boy, as he continued striding towards her. He was not in this fight to lose, he even seemed to want to make it a quick fight. After all, he was the first boy who had to fight a girl, even if she was Oncur of all the girls.

  He lashed out at her with his scimitar and she ducked over to the side with her shield up. She watched his movements and looked for a pattern she could exploit, but found none. The boy was greatly experienced she could already tell. Especially since the boys of Sorock were trained much more aggressively in combat than the girls. She knew she’d be in trouble if she didn’t find an advantage in the fight quickly.

  Finding a brief moment of vulnerability in the swordfight, she almost was able to tear a cut into his leg, but he evaded her blow quicker than she’d assumed he’d be able to. He lifted his large boot and kicked her squarely in the chest, not only knocking her back but nearly knocking the wind from her lungs.

  She recollected her wits and regained her breath. With his constant advancing, Lilaci was forced to try another tactic. So, she grabbed her shield with both hands and rolled backward away from him. He swept his sword at her, and she deflected it off her shield. She rolled away again. Come on, big boy, take the bait. He went at her again, and she deflected another of his mighty blows. She went to roll again in the same direction. Come on, follow me.

  She watched the boy’s feet shuffle as he seemed to anticipate her rolling in the same direction. As he was expecting her next roll, she stuck her short sword into the dirt and shifted her weight to her other side, and as the tall boy lunged towards where he expected her to roll, she forcefully rolled to her right. He turned to meet her trajectory, but he was too late. He was frozen in his tracks to find the sharpened short sword firmly hugging his neck, and he heard the words whisper from behind, “Got you, big guy.”

  She felt the tension in his body, but he didn’t attempt to move, as he knew he’d been bested. Lilaci could feel the anger welling up inside the boy.

  “This must be embarrassing,” she whispered. “Being beaten by me in front of everyone.”

  “Again,” the stout Scaether yelled out. It was a short yell, and she could tell he didn’t enjoy her beating of the boy. Lilaci was surprised it was the Scaether calling for the next round and not the commander.

  She released her arm from around the boy’s neck, and they both backed away from each other, and then rushed at each other again. Her blows were fierce and methodical, but she simply couldn’t match the boy's strength as he pushed her back, and she was forced to be on the defensive yet again.

  Watching his m
ovements, she could tell the boy was fighting more purposefully, and she wouldn’t be able to use the same technique she used before. She was easily pushed back by the hardened blows of the boy. Whack, whack, thud, whack. Each blow landed harder than the last, and all of Lilaci’s focus was on deflecting his blows, any direct hit might buckle her wrist from the force.

  Moving backward quickly, she soon found herself cornered, with the edge of the rope at her heels, and with the sharp scimitar slicing through the air, she felt fearful, as intentionally leaving the ring was far worse than losing by injury. She was trapped. So, she was forced to drop her sword and grabbed onto the back of her shield with both hands.

  Clang, thud, clang. The boy reigned down blow after blow onto her shield, and she felt her arms buckling under the force. Blow after punishing blow, the boy was unrelenting and seemed to be getting stronger. A swipe of his sword fell off the side of her shield and landed in the sand next to her foot. Clang, clang, clang, went his sword onto her shield over and over.

  Lilaci was cornered, and was worried why they weren’t calling the round his, as he battered her. If he was able to knock the shield away, or bust it in half, his next blow might be Lilaci’s last moment in Sorock. She let her sword fall to the ground and gripped tightly onto the back of the shield, as if it were the last thing standing between her and the end.

  Just when she felt her arms were about to collapse, the boy stopped. Hiding behind her shield, shaking from her bruised arms, she warily looked over it, and saw the boy on the ground, with a figure standing over him with his strong fists in balls, staring down the stout Scaether. Gogenanth. You saved me. You fool. Now they’ll know about us, and you’ll be thrown in the Keln. You saved me . . .

  They began talking in their native tongue, but without understanding the words, she knew what was going to happen. She dropped her shield, and watched helplessly as two other Scaethers went and grabbed Gogenanth by his arms, and walked him away towards the Keln, a box so small, she didn’t think Gogenanth would fit into it. He didn’t resist, and even knelt and folded himself into the box himself. Lilaci choked up watching him, but he didn’t meet her gaze as the door was shut and latched, leaving him folded, helpless, and alone.