Chapter Ten
Calix let out a heavy breath through gritted
teeth, and put the point of his sword beneath
the man's chin. One twitch of his hand would
spill the man's throat out into the sand
beneath him. The world calmed.
Slowly, savoring the words, he asked, "Are you
sure I'm the bitch?"
Brocchus didn't reply.
"Yield," Calix said, the word vicious and
guttural.
Everyone watched with baited breath. Calix
leaned forward, allowing his weight to
compress the man's chest, knowing how he
would soon struggle to draw breath. Then he
turned his sword until the razor edge glided
along Brocchus' throat.
Calix smiled and let the sword slip, just a
little. Brocchus' eyes went wide as the sword
nicked his skin, a thin rivulet of blood trickling
down the side of his neck.
That thing inside Calix-the beast that had
grown more ravenous as he had-growled in
satisfaction. Satiated, for the moment.
"Yield," Calix whispered now. Purring as
Cassia had purred for him last night.
Brocchus gritted his teeth, then nodded.
"Say. It," Calix demanded, pressing the edge of
the blade farther into Brocchus' skin.
"Yield," Brocchus finally croaked. "I yield."
"That's what I thought." Then he drew his arm
back and struck Brocchus, driving his fist
brutally into the man's jaw.
The guard's head snapped to the side and
Calix heaved himself to his feet, limping to
the edge of the sand pit. He stumbled there
and one of the soldiers-the boy who had first
spoken to him-grabbed him.
Not hesitating, he dragged Calix's arm over
his still-bony shoulders and helped him over
to a nearby table.
"Tullius, Antius, take him to the stocks," the
captain ordered, and Brocchus was hauled
roughly to his feet and jerked away. Calix
raised an eyebrow and the captain said, "For
conduct unbecoming at the very least. Poor
form in a sparring match. He also just struck
an officer."
"Leave it," Calix said, fingers lightly probing
the bruise blooming at the corner of his
mouth. "I've been hit harder in a whorehouse."
The men around him all laughed.
"Sir?" one of the men said. Calix looked over
to find a man perhaps a little older than
himself and nodded his head, signaling for
him to continue. The man stepped forward.
"Sir, I just wanted to say thank you, in case I
don't get the chance again."
Calix's eyebrows drew together, and he
ignored the throbbing in his ankle for a
moment longer.
The man shrugged. "My brother was at Lorna
in Marbel five years ago, sir. He told us what
you did there. How you defied orders. He said
he would have been a dead man if you hadn't
decided to sneak over the wall instead of
charging the gate like you were ordered."
All Calix could do was nod, his back flaring
with remembered pain. He'd been flogged for
his insubordination. Twelve lashes given in
front of the entire company, each keenly felt. It
would have been more if Lorna hadn't fallen.
Arcturus had emptied his pockets to pay for
the salve he bought in a nearby village to
keep the wounds from becoming infected
in the stifling summer heat of that southern,
swampy wasteland.
The scars were still there, lightly etched in his
skin.
"All right, enough of that, boys," the captain
said gruffly. "Let's get the general on his feet
and up to the castle. Court physician's better
than what we have down here, sir."
Calix shut his mouth at that, knowing he
would still likely have to use a crutch for a
month, if not more.
The boy and the man who had thanked
him each took an arm, the captain himself carrying Calix's sword as they made their way
back to the castle. He gritted his teeth with
each agonizing step.
He had torn the ligaments eight years ago,
charging across a plain dotted with the
holes of a rat-like creature. In the middle of
a fierce clash with a very large Mortanian,
he had stepped in one of those holes, nearly
destroying his ankle.
He should have died then and there.
Now, it was still prone to weakness and
twisted easily-something he had tried to
remedy with tightly laced boots.
They finally made it into the castle, and the
captain had a servant lead them back to
Calix's rooms. On the way there, they passed
the princess.
She was seated upon a bench in one of those
grand hallways, speaking to a young man in a
black coat and vest, richly embroidered with
gold and emerald thread. The princess looked
over as they passed, her dark honey eyes
locking with Calix's, but she didn't say a word.
Not a flicker of expression or remembrance of
last night crossed her beautiful features, not
even a subtle blush, and he nearly wanted to
grin. Delightful creature, indeed.
He schooled his features to polite blankness
and they all nodded respectfully-the captain
bowing-before continuing on their way.
Carrying Calix's sword as they made their way
back to the castle. He gritted his tooth with
each agonizing step.
He had torn the ligaments eight years ago,
charging throughout a plain dotted with the
holes of a rat-like creature. In the middle of
a fierce conflict with a very massive Mortanian,
he had stepped in one of these holes, nearly
destroying his ankle.
He must have died then and there.
Now, it was nevertheless inclined to weak spot and
twisted easily-something he had tried to
remedy with tightly laced boots.
They sooner or later made it into the castle, and the
captain had a servant lead them lower back to
Calix's rooms. On the way there, they passed
the princess.
She used to be seated upon a bench in one of those
grand hallways, talking to a younger man in a
black coat and vest, richly embroidered with
gold and emerald thread. The princess looked
over as they passed, her darkish honey eyes
locking with Calix's, however she didn't say a word.
Not a flicker of expression or remembrance of
last night crossed her lovely features, not
even a delicate blush, and he almost wanted to
grin. Delightful creature, indeed.
He schooled his points to well mannered blankness
and they all nodded respectfully-the captain
bowing-before continuing on their way.