Page 46 of Alien's Challenge
Bones, painted gold because why not, radiated out from the skull like a sunburst. The design added a certain nefarious flair, but really, it was hard to tone down the nefariousness on abone throne. The entire thing was perched on a dais, letting the warlord sit higher than the people standing before him.
It was the ornament of a petty tyrant.
The tyrant in question was also a Nakkoni. His scales were silver, edged in a shimming violet that could have been powder or could have been natural.
“Davith,” Faris said.
The warlord jumped down from the throne and circled Faris. “You’re nothing more than a common thief. How far the Imperial family has fallen,” he tutted.
Casually, as if inspecting a farm animal, he grabbed Faris under the jaw and tilted his head to and fro.
Alice could see Faris’ strain at the bindings on his hands.
“New growth. Aren’t you a little old to molt?” Davith tapped Faris on the brow, laughing. “It’s not even hard yet. You’re as soft as a hatchling.”
“And it took five of your guards to subdue me,” Faris said.
“You must forgive them,” Davith said. “A single guard could have done the job, but how often does one get the chance to best one of the Imperial bloodline? They could not resist. I’m envious of them, to be frank.”
He produced a knife and ran the flat edge of the blade along Faris’ cheek. “I owe you a scar. You stole the vessel from the Weaponsmiths, my allies, then you fly it into my territory," Davith growled, though his voice whined at the last syllable.
“They do not tolerate thieves. I am obligated by my allegiance to hurt you but, rest assured, I do this because it gives me pleasure,” the man said with a nasty grin.
The blade sliced along Faris’ cheek. Blood, bright red, welled.
Awesome, a tyrant with a grudge.
Alice felt like she was trapped in one of those overly complicated fantasy shows, the super grim kind with a complicated political history. Characters held grudges and spoke of things that happened a century ago like it was recent.
One hundred and twenty-eight seasons ago, our harvest suffered from blight. When we asked to purchase grain so our people would not starve, you tripled the price. Today, we levy this tariff in the name of vengeance!
Someone needed to say something, or this posturing would be endless.
“Are you about done? My back hurts and I’d like to sit down,” Alice said.
Davith turned to her. Faris lunged, restrained by the guards. “The female you stole from Randevere,” he said.
“I liberated myself,” she retorted.
Davith’s quills went up. “She went with you willingly? Did she not see your disfigurements?”
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Alice protested.
Faris leaned back, letting the guards take his weight, and he kangaroo-kicked Davith with both feet right in the gut.
The warlord stumbled to the floor. “Take them to the cells!”
Chapter 14
Faris
“Perri sold us out!” Alice paced the cell.
“He did not.”
“Sure looks like it from here, which is the inside of a jail cell.”
“Sit. Calm yourself,” Faris said.
