Doom and the Warrior Copyright Š 2018 Lexy Wolfe All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher. This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Published by Indigo an imprint of BHC Press Library of Congress Control Number: 2018946374 ISBN: 978-1-947727-67-0 Visit the author at: www.bhcpress.com Also available in ebook
Also by Lexy Wolfe The Sundered Lands Saga The Raging One The Knowing One The Timeless One The Fallen One The Unforeseen One
ONE
A
PAIR OF MEN dragged a girl not more than seven years of age from a burning hut. She kept slipping from their grasps as she struggled to escape them. She bared her teeth and bit one man, making him howl in pain. A sorcerer dressed in deep black robes approached and scowled at the two. “Can none of you handle a mere child?” he asked coldly. His backhand ripped her from her captors’ hands and flung her against a sharp rock protruding from the ground. He grabbed her ebony hair, dragging her to her feet. “Incompetents,” he muttered as he stalked towards the wagons bearing numerous cages with other humanoid creatures. “Get the wagons ready or I will have your skin flayed and ensure you live to see your pulsing insides spill out.” “Yes, Master Alimar!” The two scrambled towards the wagons. They and the other men began securing wooden walls to the iron bars, concealing the cages. As Alimar passed one of the wagons, a clawed hand lashed out at him as a young, demonic-looking boy attacked, his youthful wings fanned wide and horns gleaming in the sunlight. “I will kill you!” he shrieked defiantly. Alimar sneered. “You are nothing, gromek, but what I allow you to be.” When the green-skinned boy lashed out in defiance and tore his robe sleeve, Alimar spoke sharp words of magic, making a tearing gesture from the gromek to a hound standing nearby. The boy screamed in pain as his wings and horns vanished from his body, sprouting from the head and
8 │ LEXY WOLFE back of the dog. His despairing, shame-filled howl echoed through the jungle. Forgotten in the sorcerer’s grasp, the green-eyed girl suddenly twisted and pulled free. But instead of trying to flee, she turned around and bit the sorcerer’s hand, her teeth sinking in deep. He swore, yanked the gromek’s cage opened and flung her against the far wall. He stalked to the elegant coach awaiting him, the now-winged hound following. The workers dared not look at him nor make a sound. Even the noise of the wooden walls covering the cage’s iron bars was muted. The noise of heavy wagons disrupted the abnormal stillness of the shadowy jungle as men wielding machetes hacked with fervent desperation. Workers flinched when the man standing atop the elegant coach heading the train of cages cracked his whip. “Faster! Master Alimar wanted to make the coast before nightfall!” The light glinted off the workers and foreman’s wrist and neck shackles. Alimar’s long-fingered, slender hand moved aside the curtain concealing the coach’s occupants. The pale sorcerer’s dark eyes glinted menacingly as he looked up towards the foreman. “Overseer Belim, what is the delay? I expected to be on our way home by now.” Belim swallowed as he looked over the side but avoided meeting his eyes. “Forgive me, Master Alimar. It is these infernal Southern Wildlands. All their terrains have been treacherous. These trees and vines begin growing back the moment they are cut. We have lost five men to this damned jungle alone!” Alimar’s eyes glinted threateningly. “If conserving slave lives concerned me, I would have instructed you thus. I ordered you to get us to the coast. I wish to get my new pets home to Griffin Isle. You know well death will not absolve you nor protect you from my wrath if you fail.” His voice darkened with increasing threat. “Are my wishes clear now, Belim?” The overseer nodded, pale with terror. “Very clear, Master. Forgive me.” He turned back to the men who hacked at the forest with even greater desperation. He cracked the whip again, calling orders unnecessarily.
DOOM AND THE WARRIOR
│9
Inside the coach, a young man glanced nervously at the sorcerer abruptly possessed of an unnatural serenity. Alimar stroked the head of the dog bearing the immature gromek’s horns and wings. “Master, I understand that removing the attributes that are a source of pride to the gromek’s kind punishes him for daring to attack you. But, the girl had suffered considerable damage during her acquisition. I do not understand why you risked losing her by putting her in the same cage as that animal after you—” “Are you questioning me, Gilhadnar?” Alimar’s voice possessed more ice than the highest, glacier-bound peaks. He pinned a mirthless glare on the other man. “Perhaps I am going dull so you think a mere apprentice such as you has the will and strength to overcome me?” Gilhadnar held up both hands in submission, shaking his head wildly. “No, no, no, Master! I want nothing but to learn from your brilliance. But is it not risky putting her in the pen with that gromek? They are as close to demons as anything gets without in fact coming from one of the hells. A mindless animal. If it kills her, you will not be able to find a replacement since you eliminated the rest of her kind to increase her rarity for your collection.” “Then you had better hope she does not die, hadn’t you?” Alimar asked coldly. Swallowing tightly, the apprentice nodded. “Yes, Master Alimar.”
TWO
B
EAMS OF SUNLIGHT shone through the cracks between the boards and illuminated the straw-lined cage dimly. Yellow, demonic hate-filled eyes flashed in the light. The young gromek growled and tensed to attack whenever he thought someone might be opening the door. Once the wagon began moving, he realized no one would be coming anytime soon. Spines along his back lowered as he turned his attention to the girl that shared the pen with him. He inched close enough to poke her unmoving body, jumping back when she flinched and uttered a small, pained whimper. He edged close and looked over her; the way she lay from where she had landed looked uncomfortable. “Soft, pink thing,” he grumbled under his breath in a low but youthful voice. “You cannot feel good laying this way.” Unsure, he rolled her onto her back, awkwardly trying to arrange her limbs into a less painful tangle. The girl awoke without warning, her green eyes wide. She smacked at his hands in a panic. “I am not trying to hurt you,” he told her in a caustic voice. Without a sound she curled onto her side, holding her head. His defensive anger lifted in concern. “I know nothing about your kind. But I am sure you bleed too much. Bleeding is bad.” “Don’t care,” she said in a muffled voice after several heartbeats. “If you bleed too much, you will die,” he pointed out. Keeping to a low crouch, he sidled to the door where a bucket of
DOOM AND THE WARRIOR
│11
water sloshed as the wagon swayed. He snatched a piece of tattered cloth from the corner, shaking most of the dirt and straw from it, then returned to the girl’s side with both. His visage turned even more demonic when he scowled at her slurred voice. “I will die? Good. Better death than cages.” The young gromek grabbed her shoulder and rolled her onto her back, leaning so close his breath blew in her face. The spines along his neck and backbone rose, his lower fangs exposed because of his undershot jaw. His snarl bared his vicious teeth. “Not good! You cannot die yet.” “Why not?” she challenged, undaunted by the ferocity twisting his face. “Because he lives,” the gromek snarled. “My people say live until you get revenge on your enemy.” He sat back into a squatting position, taking the rag and dipping it into the water, wiping blood away with unsure movements. He spoke with disdain. “Don’t your people take revenge on their enemies?” She closed her eyes, turning her face away. “I do not know,” she whispered. “They did not teach you to take revenge on your enemies?” He snorted with contempt. “Mother always said pink skins were soft.” “It has nothing to do with the color of my skin!” the girl retorted, eyes unfocusing with growing lethargy. “I cannot remember. I have…no memories.” Her voice drifted off as her eyes rolled back. The gromek reached around to turn her head, then pulled his hand back in shock to stare at his palm. It was dark and wet with blood. “No!” He sat on the floor, pulling her into his lap. Fear replaced anger as he begged, “No, you cannot die. Please.” Not knowing what else to do, he wadded up the cloth and held it to the back of her head. “You cannot die, tiwaz. Not like this. I was supposed to be tiwaz. When he stole my horns, my wings, he shamed me. I am weak. You cannot die because of trying to protect something as worthless as me.” “Not…weak…” she whispered. “Not…worthless.” “I am,” he countered. “You, a pink skin, were more tiwaz than me. You fought back even after he hurt you. You kept me
12 │ LEXY WOLFE alive. I am honor bound to keep you alive so you can finish what I could not even start.” He moved the rag with care, dipped it in the water, and put it back against her head. She hissed in pain, then relaxed. “I will know vengeance on the monster that put us here through you. You have to live.” The girl was silent for a time. “What is…tiwaz?” “It is an old word for warrior for gromeks,” he answered. “Not any warrior. Tiwaz is a warrior with great honor. He guards and protects and brings vengeance on his enemies without fear or hesitation. Like you.” He sighed, looking away. “Not me.” He startled when he felt her hand along his jaw, turning his face back towards her. “You do not fear me,” he stated more than asked. “I thought all pink skins were afraid of gromeks.” “Why fear?” she asked. “You help me. Not hurt like him.” She swallowed, her expression reflecting the pain she suffered and the effort she forced herself to speak. “Tiwaz. Warriors like that…would not protect weak. Not protect worthless.” She managed a weak smile. “If you are not Tiwaz, then you are the doom of your enemy instead.” He considered, then nodded with enthusiasm. “Yes. Yes! I will be his doom. We will both live to see him dead and know freedom again.” He looked at her. “What is your name, Tiwaz?” She sighed, closing her eyes. “I have no name. It is gone, like my memories.” He remained silent for several moments before speaking. “I don’t have a name, either. I will be known as Doom. And you, my friend, are Tiwaz. The warrior.” He shifted, settling her more against himself. “Only when you have found your name, will I have a name. Now rest. Heal. We must endure whatever pain our enemy gives, become stronger until he cannot stand against us.” With a weak smile on her sickly pale features, she closed her eyes.
THREE
I
N THE CROWDED hold of the ship, Alimar smirked as he regarded the pen that held Doom and Tiwaz. The girl was unconscious and deathly pale, held in Doom’s protective arms while the green-skinned boy growled in warning. “Your concerns she might be eaten or savaged were pointless, my apprentice,” he commented in droll tones to Gilhadnar. “It appears the gromek is protective of his pen companion. How quaint.” Gilhadnar humphed, crossing his arms. “Perhaps protective, but inept. I can tell from here she’s on death’s threshold.” Alimar waved off his concern. “She is stronger than you think. Much more malleable. It is why I wanted a child. The adults of her kind always died once I enslaved them. Even capturing their souls failed to entertain me. I will not allow this one to escape me in death.” He snapped his fingers, turning away. “Bring her to the apothecary.” The apprentice leaned in and grabbed the girl by the arm to drag her out. When Tiwaz’s head dropped on the ground, Doom raked his claw-like nails from the man’s shoulder to elbow. The apprentice howled in pain, releasing her. Pulling his wand, he glared at the boy. “Why you stupid—!” He fumbled the wand he raised to cast a spell when Alimar backhanded him so hard he fell against the pen’s wall. “Have you no wits about you that you would cause more head trauma dragging her about like a child’s doll? They are my pets and you will suffer any harm done to them by your hand thrice-fold,” Alimar stated coldly. He gestured in dismissal. “Go
14 │ LEXY WOLFE have the ship’s healer tend to your injuries, Gilhadnar. I will not waste potions on your stupidity.” The bleeding man fled, casting a dark look on the caged children. Alimar narrowed his eyes on the gromek. “If you are so keen to tend to her wounds, I assure you, you will have plenty more opportunity in the future. Until then, do not interfere. I want her dead as little as you do.” Doom said nothing, did not move an inch, as Alimar entered the pen just far enough to pick up Tiwaz. The sorcerer secured the pen door with a few words. Doom lunged against it, pressing himself against the bars as he desperately tried to keep the girl in sight. He howled in fury, shaking the bars when the apothecary door shut.
ONCE HE LAID the unconscious girl on the table that dominated the room, Alimar waved his hands; ropes snaked up like living things and wrapped themselves around her elbows and ankles. He took a small bottle from a locked cabinet, returning to the table. Putting his hand beneath her head, he poured the thick, red liquid down her throat. A moment later, she awoke, hacking and struggling wildly against her bonds. “Be still!” he commanded. He smirked at the hateful look that flashed in the depths of her vivid green eyes. “You should be grateful I consider you valuable. I do not often bother healing my slaves. Healing elixirs such as this are uncomfortable if they enter the lungs. However, it cannot kill you even if I held your head under a barrel of it. It would keep you alive even while you are drowning in it. The experience is very traumatizing, I assure you.” He added over his shoulder as he put the bottle in a different cabinet, “Unless you wish to experience it for yourself, I suggest you behave and obey me.” He returned to lean against the table with a facetious nonchalance, his cold eyes raking over her nearly nude body. “Yes, you will be perfect for what I need.” He laughed coldly when her eyes went wide. She desperately struggled against her bonds,
DOOM AND THE WARRIOR
│15
contorting her body away from him. “Relax, I have no need to prove my power over you sexually, girl. Children are too easily dominated for such crude methods. Besides, I have other slaves for that purpose.” He turned to hitch his hip on the edge of the table, crossing his arms. Watching him with distrust and wariness, she stopped struggling, her eyes never leaving his. The sorcerer reached out to caress her cheek, smirking when she tried to bite his hand, giving him a baleful glare. “Such a brazen spirit! You attacked me when I punished the gromek for his audacity in lashing out at me, and knowing what I can do to you, you attempt to attack me still.” He patted her cheek condescendingly, avoiding her teeth again. “Excellent. You will serve me well.” “No one owns me!” she snarled. “Ah, you can still speak. So, you are not completely addled from your injuries. Perfect. While it pleases me to have two unusual specimens as you and the gromek, I cannot allow you to remain unshackled.” He continued speaking as he drew out several implements. “Do you know much about magic, girl?” She remained silent, watching him unwaveringly. “There are many different flavors of magic. Different resonances. Different means of implementation. “Runic magic is cast through writing. Symbols that, done correctly, imbue the object they are a part of with what their symbols intend. Runes are most common as they behave as individual symbols or letters to be strung together. Like an alphabet…” He laughed at himself. “Of course, you are illiterate. You have no understanding of civilized things such as reading and writing.” The girl bristled at his accusation of ignorance. “I know pictures can have power,” she stated. Alimar seemed amused. “Yes. They can. Of all the various runic symbols discovered over the centuries, glyphs are the most potent. In a single, elegant design, they are able to channel considerable energy for their purpose. They are permanent, usually used as wards and protections when they are etched into weapons, armor, lintels of homes.” He drew a thin knife,
16 │ LEXY WOLFE the light glinting off its razor sharp edge. “The conclave that establishes the ethics and rules of magic says they are never to be placed on a living being. Even those who practice the darker aspects of the arts obey that rule.” He met her eyes briefly. “I never listened to those prattling idiots.”
OUT IN THE hold, Doom jumped up from the dark corner of his pen when he heard Tiwaz’s shrieks. The bars bent in his desperation to get to her, but held. Eventually, her shrieks went silent. The dark sorcerer emerged a considerable amount of time later, the girl’s body lying limp in his arms. Torn between attacking Alimar and grabbing her, Doom snatched the girl and dragged her to the back of their pen, hovering over her protectively. The sorcerer ignored Doom. He shut the pen, then fixed hard, dark eyes on the gromek. “Remember this, Gromek. She will suffer for any of your disobedience. As much as you will suffer for hers.” “Tiwaz will be my vengeance. I will be your doom,” he growled. “I promise you.” The man smirked. “My doom? Arrogant child. Don’t make promises you cannot keep. But that suits you for a name. A reminder of your shame and the futility of defiance. ‘Doom.’” Unknowingly giving the gromek the moniker he had chosen for himself, Alimar’s mocking laughter filled the hold as he headed back to the upper deck. Doom bared his teeth, growling deep in his chest. Once the sorcerer was gone, he turned his attention to Tiwaz. He patted her cheeks with care, trying to wake her while avoiding scratching her with his nails. He looked at her arms while examining her for injuries. Seamless metal shackles encased her wrists, gleaming golden but harder than the iron bars. Blood streaked her arms, oozing from beneath them. “Tiwaz,” he said with urgency when her eyes finally opened. Weakly, she pushed herself up, her back to the gromek, ignor-
DOOM AND THE WARRIOR
│17
ing his repeated calls. As she held her hands up, looking at the golden shackles, he asked, “Tiwaz, what did he do to you?” Her answer was a wordless scream filled with burning anger and fathomless grief. Doom grabbed her and pulled her close, holding her as she sobbed inconsolably.
FOUR
A
N OSTENTATIOUSLY DECORATED carriage lead a long line of wagons filled with cages concealed within crates. They wound their way up from the docks of the Western Empire’s capitol of Golden Mount to the sprawling estate of Shurakh Arln. What the high walls of black stone did not conceal, massive looming trees did. Workers carefully unloaded a large crate in the middle of the private gladiatorial arena on the property. Two men approached Alimar, glancing at it. “Why do you need me here, Master Alimar?” the burly woodsman asked, irritation blunting his words. He crossed his arms. “My duties to you are clear. I hunt. I capture beasts for your private events. I have nothing to do with them once they come to your arena.” He waved a hand at the crate as slaves worked to dismantle it. “Zuneer is the one that trains them for the arena. Whatever you brought back is his responsibility to train.” Zuneer snorted. “There is no training wild animals, Urbin. The most I do is assess their temperaments to prepare my gladiators so they live long enough to make it worth the while of Master Alimar’s guests.” Both men stared as servants removed the panels to reveal the pair of children. “What the hell…?” Alimar, having patiently let the two men quibble, stated, “I want you to train them.” “Train them?” Urbin exclaimed. “They are babies! Barely old enough to—”
DOOM AND THE WARRIOR
│19
“Did I indicate you had a choice?” Alimar questioned, his voice chill. The men fell silent, averting their eyes. “You stated repeatedly the specimens I brought before were too old and set in their ways. Young mature quickly in the Southern Wildlands by necessity. They may be perhaps seven years of age, but I assure you, they are quite clever. “Their youth should make them malleable enough to allow you to train them to serve me properly.” He pointed at Doom. “The gromek is to be trained in your arts, Urbin. Once he is grown, I expect him to be capable of handling the larger beasts that daunt you.” He added, “Include healing in his instruction. His other responsibility is ensuring she remains mended. You have seven years to make him productive.” “What am I supposed to do with her?” Zuneer demanded, hands on his hips. “It takes me years to develop an adult into a passable gladiator, and that is if they want to be a gladiator from the start.” “I will allow you five years to see to it she is turned into the best fighter alive.” “Five? Even seven is barely enough, but five is too little!” Zuneer crossed his arms. “I have my limitations, no matter what you threaten me with, Alimar. Why only five for this one?” The sorcerer looked at the girl glaring up at him. “I intend to use her to attend to my failed experiments as well as serve as my bodyguard when I go out once she is matured.” He smirked. “So make certain she is good enough not to deface herself too much. The paradox of deadly beauty is an effective distraction when dealing with my other business associates. According to those who tended the slave cages on the ship, they will answer to Tiwaz and Doom. Those names amuse me.” Zuneer and Urbin traded troubled looks, then nodded, stating in unison, “Yes, Master Alimar.” Each man took their new charges by the arm, starting to lead them away in different directions. The youthful pair grabbed each other’s hands and held fast to one another. No matter what the men did or threatened to do, the pair abjectly refused to be parted.
20 │ LEXY WOLFE Alimar smirked at the show of defiance to him and loyalty to each other. “House them together. Use their loyalty to each other to enforce their obedience.” He looked over his shoulder at Zuneer. “And do not break the girl. I reserve that challenge for myself.” The sorcerer turned and strode out, leaving the children to their trainers. Urbin and Zuneer regarded the pair, crossing their arms to stare at the children who, once released, linked their arms and sat on the sands. “I’m open to suggestions,” Urbin stated after a drawn out silence. “I don’t even have children of my own, much less know how to deal with…that.” Zuneer considered the two. Finally, he crouched down to be more on eye level with them. “We won’t lie to either of you. You are not safe here. Once Alimar owns you, there is always the risk of punishment. Even when you have not done anything to warrant it.” He reached into a pouch and pulled out a piece of jerky. Doom snatched it out of his hand, sniffed it, then tore it in half, offering part to Tiwaz. She looked away, refusing it despite her stomach’s loud growling. “You need to eat,” Doom murmured. “This is safe enough.” She shook her head, remaining silent. “Tiwaz, I don’t care if I’m beaten for anything you do or don’t do, but you must eat to be strong. I do not want you hurt because I could not convince you to eat.” After some time, the girl took the offering, eating it with the tiniest of bites. Zuneer watched the interaction with sharp eyes. “Ahh. I see how it is,” he muttered. He looked at his counterpart. “Suppose the first thing to do is get them penned. I know just the place to keep them. Be easier for you to avoid the rest of my business.” At the other’s quizzical expression, he explained, “The beast stalls along the outer wall of the arena. You frequent them already and it’s away from my lot.” Urbin grunted. “Surprised you don’t want to toss her in with the rest of your gladiators.” The man snorted derisively. “Half of those numbwits don’t have enough brains left and Alimar does not give them enough females to sate them. Sure way to break her spirit is letting them louts get on her before she can defend herself.”
DOOM AND THE WARRIOR
│21
The woodsman studied the girl. “Given the look in her eyes, at least two or three will lose their nads before they’d learn once she is trained.” Zuneer shook his head, amused at the observation. “No doubt. Besides, the beast stalls are bigger. If the gromek grows to even a fraction of a size Alimar’s told me about his kind, he’ll need the space.” “Fair enough.” Urbin took Tiwaz by her free arm and pulled her after him. Doom growled, dragging along as he held onto the girl while digging in his heels. “Lead the way.” Zuneer nodded, letting the woodsman handle the pair. He picked up one of the torches as they entered the arena’s main structure and pulled open a heavy door that led into darkness. The newly lit torch illuminated the corridor. Heavy doors and ceiling-to-floor bars lined the wall opposing the arena. Zuneer stopped where the bars met a half wall. He opened the solid wood door, letting Urbin shove the pair inside. The thump of the door closing echoed ominously. The arena master went to the wall, lighting the wall torch across from the pen. “There. I have an extra key for this stall in my apartment upstairs. We need to discuss how to work this.” Urbin looked at the two youngsters with a frown. “I have northwatch mead. Won’t wash the taste of what Alimar wants from our mouths, but it’ll help.” The other man looked up with a grateful expression and followed him, leaving the pair alone. Doom prowled the space they found themselves. Save for the door and bars on the outer wall, it was nothing but smooth, bare stone from floor to ceiling. Once done with his search for any possible exit, Doom looked back over at Tiwaz. The girl huddled in the darkest corner. She hugged her knees to her chest and hid her face in her arms. Crouching in front of her, the gromek put his hand on her arm. “You cannot give up now. You must stay strong and fierce.” “I do not know how.” Her muffled voice sounded small and frightened. Doom looked down for a time. Raising his eyes again, he stated, “I don’t, either. I just know we must.” He looked towards the door. “They want to teach us things. If we do what they
22 │ LEXY WOLFE want, they won’t hurt us as much.” He took her hand in his. “I will be strong for you. You be strong for me. One day, we will be free. I promise you.” She nodded, leaning against him as he sat beside her and put his arm around her shoulders.
FIVE
U
RBIN LOOKED AROUND as he moved through the dense forest, then beckoned to the figure behind him, gesturing towards a solitary buck. Without rustling a single leaf, Doom joined his trainer. Dressed in dark leathers to blend into the shadows, he loomed over the human by a good foot. The recurve bow creaked softly as the gromek drew back, releasing after several heartbeats. The arrow, longer than the average human walking cane, flew through the air towards the buck but only grazed its chest. The alarmed animal fled with a crash through the brush. Doom sighed, lowering the weapon and closing his eyes. “Forgive me, Urbin.” Urbin squinted up at him. “In the ten years I’ve known you, I have never seen you this distracted.” Doom remained silent, looking away in shame. “You worry about Tiwaz. Don’t blame you. Alimar’s death matches are brutal.” He patted the gromek’s back just below the shoulder blades. “Take heart. She’s never lost a fight yet.” “It isn’t that. He uses spells to force her to kill her friends. She’s withdrawn from nearly everyone but me, but he always finds out who she cares about among the other gladiators” With a frustrated growl, he punched the side of the tree, making the elder oak tremble. Loose leaves fluttered to the ground. “Why does Master have such a fascination with her? Everyone says he becomes bored within five years of a new acquisition. It has
24 │ LEXY WOLFE been twice that. I know.” Yellow eyes turned to the human. “You taught me numbers.” Urbin grunted at that, resettling his backpack as they walked. “I taught you more than Alimar wanted you to know. He does not want his slaves too educated. Gives them ideas, he says. Makes them discontent.” Doom put his massive hand on Urbin’s shoulder, careful not to squeeze too hard. “You know Tiwaz and I have never been ‘content’ here. Knowledge does not make it any better or worse.” “Just don’t let Alimar find out, lad. It’d just be my head, but it’d be worse for you.” Urbin shook his head. “And Tiwaz. The only reason I can figure he is so fascinated with her is she intrigues him. Defiant but obedient. Brazen but docile. He wants to break her spirit but she yields when he expects her to break.” Doom growled, his face flushed darker green with shame. “If he wanted to break her, he could just kill me.” “If breaking her was the only thing he wanted, you’d’ve been dead long before now. No, he enjoys toying with her.” Urbin shook his head as they reached camp. “Alimar is a twisted, evil bastard. The longer the torture, the more it pleases him. And as long as this has been going on…” He shook his head in dejection. “Zuneer is both proud and despairing. She is his finest gladiator. The best in the Western Empire. A damned legend. And he wishes she would lose so she could be free.” Yellow eyes narrowed. “You think it would be better if she were dead?” Urbin shook his head. “Once Alimar owns you, only death will free you. And that only once tormenting your soul after death stops amusing him.” Doom frowned. He raised one arm to examine the seamless, matte black shackle on his wrist, then looked at his trainer’s bare wrists. “You are not a slave. Why do you stay?” The man exhaled noisily, looking away in shame. “I am not a slave according to the Western Empire’s laws, but every one of us who serves Alimar is enslaved. If I were to try to leave his service?” He shook his head. “I would not be the only one to suffer his wrath. Any Alimar thought sided with me, anyone related
DOOM AND THE WARRIOR
│25
to me by blood or law, would suffer the most torturous deaths. And I cannot bring myself to kill myself.” “And this emperor of the Western Empire allows this cruelty?” Doom demanded in disgust. “I thought he was supposed to be this great and kind ruler.” Urbin snorted. “Alimar is careful not to cross the lines that would draw the Sphinx Emperor’s attention. Alimar is as powerful as he is evil. So long as his evils stay within Shurakh Arln, considered sovereign on this island, he is left alone.” He looked up at Doom, sadness in his eyes. “It is why he tends to hunt within the Southern Wildlands for most of his slave acquisitions. Few of the reputable slave houses wish to be involved with him.” “Why?” the gromek wondered. “It doesn’t make sense, if they are selling slaves why they would care.” “Slavery out there is not what it is with Alimar,” Urbin stated as he arranged firewood in the stone ring and dug out his flint and steel. “Some prefer to call it ‘indentured servitude’ because slavery is an ugly term from the reign of the high elves. But there’s no sense in calling it anything other than what it is.” Doom sat on the broad rock, unstringing his bow and setting it on his rolled up sleeping gear beside his quarterstaff. “What is it like out there, Urbin? Slavery, I mean.” He looked at his shackles. “I have been Master’s slave longer than I had been free but I remember gromeks never had slaves.” “Well, there are two types in general. Criminals and debtors.” “What is a debtor?” Urbin chuckled. “Someone who owes someone else money. When they end up owing more than they could possibly repay, they get sent to the slave house to have their debts paid. In turn, the slave house will sell their contract to recoup what they paid and some profit. Once the contract is complete, they are free. Criminals often serve their terms through similar contracts. Unless they’re considered too unreliable or dangerous, then they’re either imprisoned or executed. If the contract extends to their descendants, the slave houses are required to ensure those descendants can survive as freemen.”
26 │ LEXY WOLFE Doom rubbed at the shackle on his wrist. “I envy them. Tiwaz doesn’t even remember what freedom was like. She never asks me about my life before Alimar came.” He clenched his fists, squeezing his eyes shut. “I promised her we would be free one day. But I do not know if that day will ever happen.” The man stared at the flames as they grew to envelop the logs in a soothing, warm glow. “Don’t give up hope, lad,” Urbin said in a gruff, quiet voice. “And don’t look to the likes of me to be your example. I am just your trainer, nothing more than that.” In the following silence, he looked up at Doom’s profile. “You’ll be there for her. We’ll be back well before the games Alimar has scheduled, I promise you.” The gromek nodded, clenching and opening his fists in agitation.
About Lexy Wolfe Lexy Wolfe is the author of the highly acclaimed epic fantasy novels of The Sundered Lands Saga. After her time in the Army as a Russian linguist was cut short due to injuries, she has continued a tradition of serving as a translator, now between technical and business folks. Lexy enjoys learning as much about everything, with a special love of all fields of science. Having to set aside a childhood dream, inspired by Carl Sagan, of becoming an astronaut and traveling to other worlds, she now weaves vivid worlds and vibrant characters into intricate stories.