Blackjack Wayward (The Blackjack Series) (13 page)

“Keshek,” I said, but Kendralis didn’t hear me, continuing his tirade.

“No, my brothers. This abomination will not lead us, nor will Drovani claim the post of High Champion. Instead we will hurl them into the abyss and this whole matter will go with them, flailing endlessly. We will not–”

“KESHEK!” I yelled, and finally he stopped and turned to face me, his mouth widening in shock. The room was deathly silent, and when I flashed a look over at Drovani, I saw, for the first time, a smile start to cross his face.

“You are a Keshek, a clumsy, stupid Keshek.”

He was bewildered that I even understood his language, and to hear me speak, to hear me insulting him, took a moment to process.

“If your coward of a father were here, in this room, I would break his head with the Eethush he should have used to kill you when you were a child.”

Kendralis Daikhan’s eyes widened, his teeth clenched, and his breathing became heavy.

“How-–how dare you?” he managed, reaching for a weapon he didn’t have.

“The only abomination here is you,” I said, and I punched him so hard my fist embedded in his chest. I reached back, grabbing him with my free hand to press through his body and get a hold of something hard, probably an organ near his heart. Kendralis clawed at my chest and arms, but his death took only moments, and his blood soon covered most of my chest and legs. I kept a good grip of his chest, holding him even though my arm fell to my side casually.

“Any other objections!” I said, roaring at the warlords, expecting half of them to charge, but instead no one did. Drovani was aghast, his mouth wide open in shock.

I lifted up Kendralis, his body now lifeless, and with my free arm grabbed one of his dangling hands.

“I don’t object,” I said, using a girly voice to mimic Kendralis, then threw him across the room, spattering the warlords he flew over with blood. The body slammed into a back wall with a wet squelch and slid down to the floor, leaving a large gory splotch in its wake.

Kendralis’ blood stained my face and chest. Clenching my teeth, I looked around the room once more, making sure they knew who the real power was here.

“Then without objections,” I said, almost in a growl, “I think this meeting is over.”

I felt the goddess come up behind me.

“The matter is settled,” she said. “Let us speak of this no more. We shall meet again for the war council. Now return to your ships, gather your men, and prepare for war.”

The warlords stood, Kendralis’ allies bowing and leaving the room, their faces awash in revulsion. Most of the other assembled Vershani came forward and bowed to the goddess, then to me and to Drovani, who now stood beside me. After a short while, only a few warlords remained, with Aryani, Drovani, and me, and a few Vershani soldiers who came to dispose of Kendralis Daikhan’s body.

Lords Thel and Krut were there, as was another fellow, dark and mysterious, with similar coloration and hair to Drovani. In fact, he looked almost like a twin brother save for a few select scars and longer, more elaborate hair.

“That did not go as I had hoped,” Lord Thel said, shaking his head.

“It was what was necessary,” Drovani said, and I appreciated hearing him support me.

“We needed Kendralis,” Thel continued. “His forces are the finest in Hedaris.”

“And he was prepared to use them against us,” Krut said. “He would have betrayed us at the first chance.”

“Kendralis’s men are now the worry,” said Drovani’s look-alike.

“This is my cousin, Varhoven,” Drovani said.

“Let me go to his ship,” I said. “I’ll convince them.”

They all looked at me like I was a fool, until Drovani laughed, “By the goddess, that might just work.”

Mention of Aryani made me turn to her, and I caught her staring at me. As Drovani and his men continued their discussion, I peeled away, stepping up the dais toward her.

“You cannot,” she whispered, checking me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, suddenly embarrassed not just for my appearance, but for what I had done. I had no idea what the consequences of my actions would be.

She shook her head, concealing a small smile.

“He was insubordinate, Lord Blackjack,” she said, stepping closer. “He questioned my judgment and you defended my honor.”

I swallowed hard, again overcome by her beauty, stumbling through every word.

“I–I ... just....”

“You defended my honor,” she repeated.

Drovani came over. “He was allowed to question, but he overstepped. He was attempting to wrest control of our fleets by discrediting you, but his mockery disrepected the goddess. Again, I owe you thanks. Had he won, we would’ve been thrown overboard and the goddess’ power diminished.”

“Instead, you have made me strong,” she said, but I could barely discern the words, assaulted by an irradiation of wonder that made it hard to breathe; I thought my heart would pound out of my chest, and that everyone could hear its thunderous beating. “Another reason I have to thank you.”

I lowered my head, unable to speak.

“Drovani,” she said. “Gather Kendralis Daikhan’s amulet.”

The Vershani looked shocked, perhaps for the same reasons I was, “No, my lady. It is not proper,” he said, but a stern look from her made him bow and run outside.

“Give me that,” she said, pointing at the amulet I wore.

“Sure,” I said, taking it off and wiping some of the blood on a clean spot of my toga. I handed it to her and she threw it to the ground, shattering the item into a thousand fragments.

“You are Seshine no more,” she said, and all the warlords moved closer, wanting to see.

“Forgive me, my lady,” Krut said. “Is that wise?”

She nodded.

“As the Goddess of the Eastern Slopes, Watcher of the Northern Wood, and Defender of the Spirit of Vershanos, I am tasked to find peace amongst my people. To bring this peace to our people by uniting tribes by marriage, and to bear a child that will lead the Vershani armies in the millennia to come. This has been so for all our history, for thousands of generations past.”

She looked at the Warlords, who nodded and lowered their faces as Drovani returned and handed her the amulet that Kendralis Daikhan had worn, an amulet so similar to mine.

“This time I choose to break with tradition. Just as we have chosen a non-Vershani to lead the army that will reclaim our world, so shall I choose a man to marry for a different reason altogether.”

Aryani motioned me to lower myself, and I knelt before her. She raised the amulet and slung it over my chest.

“You are known as Blackjack no more,” she said, then bade me stand.

I obeyed and she adjusted the amulet. I could feel our proximity, waves of energy colliding in the bare foot of space separating us. Her eyes were upon mine, and had the warlords not been present, I would have taken her right there. Her mere presence was like an aroma that threatened to overcome my senses.

“I choose you as my husband, and henceforth, you shall be known as Blackjack Daikhan.”

And she kissed me.

Chapter Seven

Once the warlords finished their discussion, Drovani led me away. Aryani disappeared behind the chamber doors, and it took an act of will to deny myself her presence, but there were things to be done. Drovani and I took a launch across the gap between his ship and Kendralis’, and as I scanned the skies, the pirate ship was nowhere to be found. It bothered me that I couldn’t remember the name, and I had only been aboard her a day before. In its place was a battle fleet of Vershani warships, over two dozen like Drovani’s and at least another fifty ships ranging from battle destroyers to tugs and cargo ships. The entire fleet lay in formation behind Drovani’s flagship, and with the council of warlords placated, they all saw him as their nominal commander.

And me as his champion.

We arrived alongside Kendralis’s ship, disembarking along with a dozen hard-edged, deadly-looking warriors led by Elgar and Hronteth.

“This is irregular,” said one of Kendralis’ warriors, the only burly Vershani I had seen thus far. He also had a thick beard and wore a heavily decorated set of armor that denoted his high rank. “Where is Lord Daikhan,” he asked, and then his eyes settled on my chest, on the necklace that his master had once worn. It was still spattered with Kendralis’ blood, and it was only then that he noticed the horrible sight of my crimson-stained toga.

I reached forward to grab the man and hurl him overboard, but Drovani was like a blur, drawing both blades across the Vershani’s neck, leaving a twin pair of slices trailing a spray of blood. Kendralis’ commander tried screaming, but instead a bubbling of blood dribbled from his neck. Another pair of Vershani drew their weapons, but Drovani’s men leveled their spears, and all desire to fight left them. They dropped their weapons and fell to their knees.

“As little bloodshed as possible,” Drovani had said on our crossing between the gargantuan ships. “And we must do everything to sway Kendralis’ brother.”

It was this man that came from the Captain’s cabin, drying his hands on a rag of cloth. If Kendralis was big for his kind, and a Keshek, then this fellow was the biggest Vershani of them all. The king of the Keshek.

His musculature was exaggerated, unnatural, and mostly concentrated on his upper body, making him look ridiculously top-heavy. His facial features were a strange combination of Kendralis’ handsome lines mixed with something harsh and rough. Another thing that spoke of a mixed Vershani lineage was how hairy he was. His rippling chest was covered in a heavy shag, almost a fur, and his hair was darker and longer than most of his kind. His teeth were more pronounced, in particular the lower canines that jutted outside his mouth, and they looked to be about three inches long.

“That is Kerla,” Drovani said, as the man walked toward us, flanked by his closest associates.

“I got this,” I said, leaving my group to meet him.

“Where is my brother?” Kerla asked Drovani, ignoring me altogether. “And why does this Keshek wear his mark?”

“I killed your brother,” I said, getting his full attention.

The man’s wide eyes bored into me; his muscles flexed and teeth clenched.

“Your brother stood against the council, Kerla,” Drovani said. “He insulted the goddess’ wisdom, and he now walks the Everlong with Threfash the Charlatan.”

Kerla’s face shook, the sudden knowledge of his brother’s death overwhelming him. He looked past me at Drovani.

“This treachery will cost you, Drovani.”

I swung my head over, in front of the burly Vershani.

“Don’t forget about me,” I said.

“Kendralis was right to not trust you, to not follow you in this foolish Civil War you propose. And you, monkey-creature. Leave my sight, or I will gut you myself.”

“Your name is Kerla, right?”

He stared at me for a moment, taking in my grim face and realizing that a confrontation was inevitable. Kerla drew a magnificent silver two-handed sword and Drovani’s men freed swords from their scabbards, but I waved them back and motioned for Kerla to come. He saw what I proposed and did the same, telling his men to stand back and let us fight.

“For Kendralis!” he roared and charged me.

I knew his first blow would be at my head. Tall as I was, he was going to bring that big sword up and decapitate me, figuring to end the fight with one swing. Instead of ducking under the blow, or dodging aside, I strode into his swing, catching his arms and slamming my hips into his chest. I don’t know Judo so it was clumsy, but the effect was as intended: he flew over my shoulder and slammed on his back beside me, his sword now in my hands.

I looked over to Drovani, who could hardly contain the amazement in his expression, but as I stepped over to Kerla, he shook his head. Resting the tip of the blade on Kerla’s chest, I then moved closer and held it straight down, ready to impale the two-hander through his body and down into the planking beneath him. Kerla screamed, both in rage and surprise. Drovani sauntered over and knelt beside the fallen Vershani.

“It is simple, old friend. Either you accept your fate, or meet it. Join your ship and men to ours or you will join your brother in the Everlong.”

Kerla’s eyes flashed from Drovani and me to the blade pressing against his sternum.

“You and the Keshek can die,” he spat.

Drovani looked at me, smiling, and then back at our captive. “Are you sure, Kerla?”

“I spit on you,” he said.

“Very well,” Drovani said, coming to his feet. “The crew will be decimated for following in Lord Kendralis’ and Lord Kerla’s sedition. Every tenth man will be thrown overboard for the fall to nothingness. Begin with Kendralis’ and Kerla’s children. For your part, Lord Kerla, Blackjack Daikhan will cut off your testicles and legs. Just above the knee will do.”

Kerla’s eyes flashed with fear, “No!”

“Then put fire on the stumps,” Drovani said, ignoring the screaming man. “I want a pet to eat my scraps.”

“Coward! You coward! I was promised death!”

Drovani stopped and regarded Kerla.

“I will keep my promise,” he said, matter-of-factly. “Just not today. Perhaps in a few years.”

I saw a hint of playfulness in Drovani, so I decided to play my part.

“So balls first, huh?” I said, lifting the sword from Kerla’s chest and letting the tip drift toward his crotch.

“Wait! Wait!” Kerla begged.

Drovani raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t have to be a perfect blow, Blackjack Daikhan,” he said, noting that I was trying to gauge the blow as best as I could. “As long as his manhood is damaged, I will be satisfied.”

“I said wait!” Kerla screamed, slapping at the downturned sword.

“You wish to speak?”

He nodded, streams of sweat pouring down his temples.

“Go on,” Drovani said, though he immediately added to me, as if an aside, “After the legs, we must take his tongue too.”

“I wish to retract my previous comments,” Kerla said.

Drovani recoiled, as if surprised. “You wish to ask for my forgiveness?”

Kerla nodded.

“For all your comments? Dear me, I’m afraid I am so distraught by this whole matter that I have forgotten what you said.”

“He wanted to spit on us,” I said.

“I retract that,” Kerla said. “Fully.”

“So you wish to join us, then?”

“Wholeheartedly. And my other brothers will all agree.”

I looked around for more Keshek Vershani, but Kerla was the last of the big ones. It made me think that when he meant brothers, he didn’t just mean by blood and that everyone on the ship was somehow related. Drovani waved me aside and motioned for Kerla to stand. The man did, holding his head low to his new commander.

“Forgive my crew,” he said. “Forgive my brother. And finally, forgive me.”

Satisfied, Drovani nodded. “Accepted,” he said and motioned to his large contingent of heavily armed guards. “I will leave my men here to ensure this doesn’t happen again. Consider it a gift to mark our newfound understanding.”

The guards walked over to Kerla and flanked him.

“They will not leave your sight,” Drovani said as he walked back to the launch, followed by a few of his men and my two personal guards. I came last, still holding that magnificent two-handed sword.

“Nice, huh?” I said, showing off the weapon, but Drovani ignored me, his chin raised high in victory as our skiff parted from the larger vessel.

Drovani stood at the bow platform, feet spread wide, managing every tug on the small craft like the experienced seaman he was. Except there was no sea, and he wasn’t a man in any case. Nevermind. What was important was that he was content, having quelled all voices of dissent, and was now basking in the glow of a unanimous victory. In fact, from his vantage point, he could see all the major warships of his new fleet coming into formation, thousands of warriors all at his command.

I was happy to let him enjoy the moment, but he half turned and motioned for me to come forward. Not having his vast experience, I walked near the low sides of the skiff, ready to grab a handhold should the small ship hit a heavy gust.

“Allow me,” he said, gesturing toward the sword I had taken as loot. Handing it over, he held it in his callused hands, studying the pristine length of the blade, the rune markings near the hilt, and the gem encrusted cross-guard.

“Like it?” I said. “You can have it.”

He smiled. “This is a coward’s weapon, Blackjack.”

I looked at it, not knowing the difference between a good and a bad sword.

“See?” he pointed to the razor sharp blade. “It is unused. Untested. This weapon is beautiful, but useless in battle. It belongs on a wall, as an adornment.”

He held it up, regarding it for one last time, and threw it overboard.

“I will commission a weapon worthy of you, my friend.”

I watched the blade flutter into the nothingness until it was gone from sight.

“I guess it was too small for me anyway.”

Drovani turned to me.

“You will need the two swords I gave you,” he said. “One for the shield wall, and another for when you break their wall.”

“I see.”

He smiled, knowing I didn’t.

“When the battle starts, you will stand shoulder to shoulder with your men, shields interlocked into a wall. This line of steel will move forward until it meets theirs, and here, my friend, your strength and your power will ensure that our line will break theirs. For this part, you will need a long blade, thin and deadly, to reach between the shields, find your enemy’s vitals or their bellies, and rip them apart.”

I laughed. “Sounds like fun.”

“It is,” he said, joining in the laughter. “It is harrowing fun, horrible and wonderful at once. You are not alive until you stand amongst your brothers, break the enemy line, and watch the cowards flee. It is then that you will need a second weapon, a longer sword, usable with both hands, to chop at the enemy’s backs and legs, to drop them for your companions that follow to butcher and finish.”

He drew the sword he carried at his waist, a weapon with a blade some three feet long, as wide as a man’s hand. The edge was sharp, even sharper than Kerla’s sword, but it bore dozens of nicks and scratches and the metal was darker, older. This was a sword that had seen many battles and killed beings of all shapes and sizes.

“This weapon will do for the battle line,” he said, his loving gaze caressing the weapon, knowing every mark or marr, as one would the skin of a lover. “Take it,” he said, handing it to me.

Even in my hands it was impressive, light and deadly.

“It feels fragile,” I said.

“Which is why you carry two,” he responded, motioning to his second blade, which had the same worn handle and, from a cursory look in his scabbard, appeared to be an identical brother to the sword I wore.

“Here,” he said, facing me. “Your shields, gentlemen,” Drovani said to Elgar and Hroneth, who came forward and handed us their shields. Drovani took Elgar’s and stood apart from me. “About this far,” he said, drawing his second sword, which bore a blade just as marred as the one I held.

I took Hroneth’s shield and stood opposing Drovani. Though I towered over the Vershani commander, his stance and posture spoke of experience. I did my best to mimic his stance, but where he looked loose and prepared, I felt stiff.

“We will do it slowly,” he said, sensing my concern and inexperience. He eased forward until our shields met, then he showed me the basic moves to slip the weapon past the shield and into my torso and legs. I was about to try it myself, when Elgar shook his head.

“It’s no good,” he said.

Drovani looked at him and straightened up.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“He’s right,” Drovani said and coming back at me, this time faster, but he checked his blade, making sure he didn’t cut my neck as he brought it over his shield. “It won’t work this way, Blackjack. Here, stand beside me, as if we are both fighting together.”

I came beside him and we interlocked shields and faced an imaginary enemy: in this case a sleepy Hroneth, who leaned against the gunwale watching us.

“See?” Drovani said, making sure I noticed how high my shield was in comparison to his.