Page 57 of Taken to Nobu
“Tur’Roth,” Raku says, inviting him into the arena with a wave of his arm. Understanding and evidently accepting Raku’s edict, Tur’Roth goes to the Garon standing near Miari. Three males guard the weapons cache while an older male rifles through a large werro wood chest and withdraws a whip. Unlike the leather whips I’ve seen before, this one isn’tstatic.Like the holoshields I’ve practiced with, it zaps to life when Tur’Roth takes the thick metal handle, activating it. Energy crackles and sizzles as Tur’Roth releases the tail end of the whip, allowing it to uncoil onto the snow below. It lands so softly it makes no sound.
Despite the temperature, Krisxox sheds his outer layer — first, the hide shell, then the chest and back pieces of the okami he wears. Clad in only hide pants and boots now, he turns his bare back to Tur’Roth and holds his arms out to the sides in a vulnerable display. Tur’Roth does not hesitate.
The slash of the whip against Krisxox’s bare skin sputters and pops, energy meeting flesh. A blazing line of copper opens up from Krisxox’s right shoulder to left hip. The force of the blow jolts him a half step forward, but he doesn’t cry out. He hardly even flinches.
“One lash only,” Raku says when Tur’Roth lifts the weapon a second time. Tur’Roth hesitates.There’s something here, beneath the surface. Something between them. None of it good.“Krisxox, as Svera’s champion, you will defend her honor now by fighting Tur’Roth and two warriors that Va’Raku nominates.”
“Bre’Okkari and Naimi’Okkari,” Okkari answers immediately and two warriors step into the arena across from Krisxox. They are joined by Tur’Roth and at the Raku’s word, they select their weapons and tear into one another. I don’t miss the fact that for his weapon, Krisxox selected the same one as Tur’Roth.
“Blooded warriors will be removed from the tribunal floor. Should Krisxox allow himself to be blooded before all three warriors have been removed from battle, then Svera’s punishment will be fifteen solars in exile in Qath’s outer lands.”
Miari shoots Raku a death glare at that, one so aggressive he must feel it because he places his hand on Miari’s shoulder. It might be an attempt to reassure her, but I know for a fact that if Krisxox loses this battle, it’s Raku who will pay the price.
“Accepted,” Krisxox says, followed by Tur’Roth and the other two warriors invited into the arena.
Krisxox lowers into a crouch, single axe dismantled to reveal smaller twin axes that he takes in each hand. He pivots slightly to the side while the other three warriors ready themselves. They all hover there on the cusp of action, waiting for something…
And then a restrained, muted word, spoken in a voice too gentle and light for this harsh, cold world says, “Accepted.” Svera’s single word falls harder than the stroke of any blade and it falls with impact. Without delay, the solar’s first battle starts.
Impulsive and flat out nuts as he is, I’m surprised that Krisxox doesn’t attack first. He hovers back, watching the three males circle him wielding axe, flail and sword — no holo weapons are allowed here, and no shields.
He skirts the first onslaught of the flail, spinning smoothly out of the way like a dancer would. Bre’Okkari darts forward, engaging with his sword while Tur’Roth moves around to Krisxox’s bared and bloodied back. He raises his axe and for a moment I wonder if the battle won’t be over this quickly.
And then chaos explodes over the battleground.
Krisxoxexplodes, erupting like a storm. He bats away Bre’Okkari’s sword, hitting it so hard the sword flies from Bre’Okkari’s fingers. Spinning the rest of the way around, he ducks out of Tur’Roth’s path so that Tur’Roth’s axe meets only air and the motion throws Tur’Roth wildly off balance.
Krisxox sidles up next to Tur’Roth and with one quick jerk, releases his elbow into Tur’Roth’s face. When Tur’Roth canters back, Krisxox slashes downward with one axe. He would have removed Tur’Roth from the battle there — possibly removing his arm at the wrist as well — if Naimi’Okkari hadn’t then intervened.
Krisxox grunts as he turns on the xub’Okkari, forcing them back and then back further and it occurs to me as Krisxox releases such gently caged fury that even though they are three on one, they don’t stand a chance against him. None at all.
The battle is bleak and brutal. Watching Krisxox fight is unlike anything I’ve ever seen and for a moment, I forget where I am and succumb to my emotions — deep, deep envy. I thought Kinan was the most impressive fighter I’d come across — and to be honest, he might still be — but there’s something almost poetic about the way Krisxox moves. He’s not the largest male — though he’s among them — but he moves like a spectre, vanishing and reappearing again like the ghosts my mother is sure haunt the abandoned wreckage of the Antikythera satellite that the colony’s first humans landed in.
Bre’Okkari steps left, but Krisxox was only feinting. I feel my front teeth clench together as I will Bre’Okkari to move left and out of the way, but he falls into the trap Krisxox set for him and when he dives forward, Krisxox pulls back and sends Bre’Okkari sprawling. He spins and kicks an advancing Tur’Roth in the chest, driving him back in the time it takes for him to return to Bre’Okkari, kick away his sword and draw a thin line of blood from the side of his neck — one of the only places the okami armor does not cover.
As Bre’Okkari is removed from the plain of battle, the flail spears the air to the left of Krisxox’s head. He sweeps his axe up, flinging the flail out of his path as he charges forward, advancing brutally, but Tur’Roth meets him in the center of the arena first. Axe-on-axe, the duel is short and savage.
Krisxox’s fighting style changes dramatically — no longer smoke, he’s stone now, and uses raw strength to beat Tur’Roth to the ground. He falls and I feel myself wince. It’s hard to watch, but I can’t look away from the scene. Back shining slick with his own blood, Krisxox’s muscles bunch and flex as he brings one small axe down onto Tur’Roth’s weapon again and again.
Tur’Roth’s arms shake as he falls first to one knee, then collapses onto his hip. His axe handle splinters and when Krisxox brings both of his own axes together around the handle, he splits it.
Krisxox kicks Tur’Roth onto his stomach and, pinning one shoulder underfoot, draws his axe blade from Tur’Roth’s right shoulder to his left hip. The implication makes me cringe.Resentful, bloodthirsty bastard.It makes me suddenly nervous for a whole different set of reasons. He might be the most capable person of keeping Svera safe, but he’s also a fucking lunatic.As her protector, he needs to be replaced.
With Tur’Roth off of the field, it still takes some time before the outcome of the battle is sure. Naimi’Okkari is a master of the flail and it is a tricky weapon to defend against. Krisxox may be belligerent and confident but he is not overconfident. He waits, drawing Naimi’Okkari around the arena until he makes his first mistake.
Not as surefooted in this new environment, Naimi’Okkari takes one step too quickly and slips, just a half foot, but it’s enough for Krisxox to take advantage of. Spinning onto one knee, he ducks under the advancing flail and cuts a line across Naimi’Okkari’s thigh before rising up to stand in one fluid movement.
And just like that, Svera’s trial is ended.
Silence settles over the arena, broken up only when Krisxox tosses his axes down onto the packed white earth, leaving them there for another warrior to pick up and return to Garon. Despite an impressive victory, Krisxox doesn’t look happy about it. He throws a pelt around his shoulders as he resumes his place to Svera’s right, only this time, there’s a bigger space between them than there had been before. Her arms are crossed over her chest, her stare fixed straight ahead and her face, the same brilliant red.
I might have found it funny — might have even laughed — if my blood hadn’t started to push harder through my veins and sweat started to build between my shoulder blades and under my breasts. I lick my lips, tasting the cold on them despite their heat, and feel the craziest kinetic energy rattle through me as I stare at the droplets of copper blood on the arena floor, reminding me of what my reddish-brown blood had looked like staining the sands of our colony three rotations before. Sand whipped through the air then in place of snow and yet, I can’t help feeling the same thing I felt then — not at the end of the day when I was ruined, but at its start.
Mama was so optimistic that the male who hunted me would be like the one who claimed her — even Jaxal had been begrudgingly hopeful — and for just a second as I knelt naked on the sands and watched the alien ship touch down onto our planet, I thought that nothing could hurt me. That I’d be forever invincible.It’s because I am. I’m still here, with none of the scars he gave me, and he’s in chains.
“The trial for advisor Svera is complete. Svera is absolved of hercrimes,” Miari sneers the word in a way that casts major shade Raku’s way even though he doesn’t let it rile him.
Instead, he steps forward slightly, into the circle. “We will now begin the second trial. Va’Rakukanna, step forward and name your champion.”
