BloodLust (Rise of the Iliri Book 1) (3 page)

They stood, tossing back their drinks, but Sal stayed, his grip holding her in place.  As the door closed behind the last man, her heart beat faster.  She was alone with him.  He could order her to do anything and she couldn't refuse.  Being part iliri, he had to know that she was beholden to him now, whether she liked it or not.

"Breathe," he said softly.

"Yes, sir."

"My name is Blaec.  They call me LT.  It's ok for you to do the same."  He slowly pulled his hand away.  "You're taking all of this rather well."

"Not really, sir," she said honestly.  "I just got hit in the head then started hearing voices.  It's just that I'd better learn to roll with it or I'll be sitting back at a desk tomorrow."

He smiled as he stood.  "Fair 'nough.  Ok, soldier.  The next trial starts at 1300 tomorrow."

"Yes, sir.  I wouldn't miss it for the world.  And before you say it, I understand my place and that being able to hear your thoughts does not guarantee that I will be chosen."

The Lieutenant moved a step closer.  His hand found her shoulder, one finger brushing the skin at her neck.  "There's nothing wrong with being iliri, Sal.  Whether you pass the trials or not, our kind tends to stick together."  He tried to meet her eyes, but she couldn't.  "Do you understand me?"

Sal bit her lip, unsure of how to answer, so just nodded.

"And I won't touch you again, unless I have permission.  None of the Blades will.  You are not our pet."

"I'm no one's pet, sir.  Not anymore."

He stood.  "No, not anymore.  You're also not alone, but..."

The emotion she smelled was confusing.  Protective?  Supportive?  Timid?  Scared?  They were all mingled together into one, but she couldn't begin to guess why the leader of the most capable military unit in the country would feel like that around her. 

She finished the thought he left hanging.  "But you can't give me an advantage in the trials.  I understand, sir.  You need to choose the best soldier to keep your men safe."  She dared to look up at him.

"Yes.  Exactly.  That doesn't mean we won't help you in other ways.  There aren't that many of us left."

"More than you know," she shot back, her ears flicking defensively.  "Serving all over the country.  We're locked in cages, chained with poverty, leashed by laws...  There's thousands of iliri in this country."

He shook his head.  "I mean those who've found their place.  I have to protect my men at all costs.  I have to do what is the best for them.  Not for me, not for you, but for them.  You can't hide what you are, but we've been doing it for years."

"I understand, sir," she said, turning to the door, her heart sinking.  He was trying to tell her that she'd never pass, but she wouldn't give up that easy.  She wouldn't just walk away without a fight.  "Thank you for giving me the chance to try."

"Next trial starts at 1300 tomorrow, Private.  Be there."

She nodded as her hand closed on the knob.  Even if she wouldn't get accepted, maybe she could get a referral to another elite unit.  It was worth a shot.  "I'll be there until I'm dismissed, sir.  I won't be scared off."

"Good.  Have a good evening, Private."

She pulled open the door to find Shift standing in the street, waiting.  At the sound, he looked up with a smile.  "Ok, little one, let me show you to your room and keep the big baddies away from you."

"Thanks, Shift.  I can take care of myself, you know."

He just laughed and gestured up the street.  Together they walked past the row of cabins.  "I know you could," he said, finally.  "Doesn't mean you should have to.  This black uniform of mine gives us both a little protection that your white skin doesn't get."

"Yep."  She watched the dirt pass beneath her feet, trying to ignore the resentment that was welling up.

"You know it's ok to feel things, right?"  He stepped into her path, forcing her to look up.  "Seriously, Luxx, you don't have to play human around me.  You reek of your emotions, and you can't bottle everything up like this.  You'll go brerror."

"I don't even know what that means, but it's Sal."

"Shit, right."  With a sigh he moved back to her side and kept walking.  "It means loner, Sal.  Lone wolf, anti-social, banished from society."

"Isn't..." her throat was clenching, so she took a deep breath and tried again.  "Isn't that what I am now?"

"No.  I think you're just lonely.  I think you can't trust anyone."  He rested a hand on her shoulder, touching nothing but cloth.  "I also think you could use a friend."

"Never really had one before," she admitted, her ears sinking lower on her head.

He saw and nodded.  "Well, I'm here, if you decide I'll do.  I can't give you special treatment in the trials or anything, but I've always got an ear."

"Nice flat ones," she mumbled, aware of how abnormal her own were.

He heard.  "They may not work as well as yours, but they're available."

They walked on in silence.  At number 12, he paused, then entered first, making his way across the dark room.  Her slit eyes dilated fully and Sal could see the lantern on the table in shades of grey while Shift sought it by feel.  His fingers bumped into it, then he fumbled in his pocket and brought out a striker.  A few flicks later, a spark landed on the oil-soaked wick, bringing a golden glow into the tiny room.

"It's not much, but it's yours for a bit."

"Thanks, Shift.  I really do appreciate it."

"Welcome.  Your bag's in the wardrobe.  Packed between the Blades, no one will give you shit.  It's the best we could do to cut down on the harassment."

She nodded, looking around the room.  It wasn't much, but the bed looked soft, the furniture would hold her things, and the bathing chamber was private.  It was much nicer than the quarters she was usually assigned.  When she turned back to Shift, she was smiling.

"It's perfect.  Thank you."

"So you know, I'm two doors down in 14.  Arctic is next door on the other side in 11 and Zep is across the street in 17.  The others are scattered on this row, but if you need us..."  He let the words trail off, an open invitation. 

Sal thanked him again, then shooed him out of her small but private space.  The door barely closed behind him before she peeled out of her uniform.  Folding it carefully, she set it beside the table and began to unpack, hanging her clothes to let the wrinkles fall out.  Her mind wandered over the Lieutenant's words.  Her chances were probably slim, but he hadn't told her to give up.  Instead, he seemed pleased that she was willing to fight to earn her place. 

Finally reaching the bottom of her bag, she pulled out a worn book on military basics.  She cradled it to her chest as she flopped on the bed and opened the cover.  Before she began studying, she dared to allow herself to hope.  "Please let me pass these trials.  Please!" she whispered, then focused her mind on weapons regulations for mounted soldiers.

Chapter 3

The first two days of the trials started with paperwork.  Written tests on strategy and tactics, knowledge of weapons, poisons, and siege warfare were all covered.  By the third day, the remaining applicants were excited to finally get the chance to show their weapon proficiencies.  When the Lieutenant approached, they sprang to their feet.  Most stood at parade rest, others at attention, but they all hoped to make a good impression. 

LT looked them over.  "Today, you get to prove your fighting skills.  Report to your assigned officer, where you will be assessed on various styles of combat, from hand to hand through the basic weapons.  Today is melee only, so no, you won't get to shoot any shit."

The recruits chuckled politely, and he continued, "The order of weapons is to be determined by the officer in charge.  You will be given a score based on your proficiency with each type, as well as your innovation and decorum in combat.  Questions?"

With none forthcoming, they split into their groups.  Shift waited with another Black Blade – the dark skinned human.  Riblour, Saong, and Kinetry, the recruits from her group, gathered around them.  When she approached, Shift nodded in her direction but made no attempt to introduce the new elite and Sal refused to ask.  The Lieutenant made it sound like the Blades were all iliran, but this man was obviously human.  It made her wonder how truthful her initial meeting had really been.

Keeping silent, she followed the group into a small, green pasture where practice weapons waited on a canvas tarp spread across the grass.  Each of the recruits retrieved a set, and Shift put them through the standard military warm-up.  Today, his mind stayed silent, locked well away from Sal.  She hoped he was just trying to stay impartial.

The human stood with a scowl on his face the entire time. 

Shift demonstrated new moves with the sword, staff, spear, and knife, guiding each applicant through the proper execution with a patience Sal wouldn't have expected.  Over and over, he made corrections, working them until the moves flowed easily.  When the moons began to overtake the sun, he called a break in their training.

"Ok, so ya pretty much got it.  Take five and catch your breath, then we'll see if any of you are as bad-ass as you think."

Sal set her weapons down, the size of them too large for her small body, and rubbed her arms.  Taking the brief respite for what it was, she stretched and breathed deeply, forcing air to her tired muscles.  When her male competitors began to mutter about the lack of refreshments, she rolled her eyes.  They weren't here to be pampered.  They were supposed to prove that they could make the cut. 

Sooner than she expected, Shift called them back to their feet.  "Ok, pair up.  Riblour with Saong, Kinetry with Luxx," he said, "and Zep, if you can run through Luxx and Kinetry?"

The human nodded, one of his tiny, shoulder length braids blowing across his eyes, but he ignored it. 

Sal moved to where he gestured, away from the other pair.  In the distance, yet another Black Blade watched their group, leaning against the base of a tree.  Evidently, she'd become a spectacle.

"Here's the deal," Zep said sternly, demanding her attention.  "You will fight.  If I believe that one of you is about to be irreparably harmed, I will stop you with the command 'hold'.  Full contact is expected.  A blow that should kill you will be declared by myself, otherwise, you will fight until one of you surrenders.  The winner wins.  The loser is the one dead or the quitter.  Understood?"

Kinetry nodded, but Sal had to know, "Any weapon limitations, sir?"

Emotion finally found it's way to Zep's face, a glimmer in his eye told her she'd asked the right question.  "None," he said.  "Just like real combat."

She turned, removed her cap, and lay her weapons out for easy access, keeping an ear on her opponent.  Kinetry, across from her, did the same, glancing up every few steps.  When she approved of her spacing, Sal turned to Zep, waiting for a sign to begin the combat.  His brown eyes studied her briefly before returning to watch Kinetry's broad back. 

As the recruit turned, Zep said calmly, "Lay on."

Kinetry sprang into motion.  Dropping to his knees, he grabbed a spear, and thrust at her.  He was slow – strong, but slow.  Without reaching for her own weapons, Sal stepped to the side, watching how he placed his feet, smelling his nervousness, but holding her instincts in check.  Kinetry circled to match her.  His heels crushed the grass as he moved, his knees too tense.  When she made no attempt to attack, he began poking at her with the wooden spear.  Its head was round but solid, and would hurt if it connected. 

Sal watched how his face changed before the real strike came and shifted casually to the right, grabbing the spear with both hands.  Growling, she pulled in the direction of his thrust.  It sailed harmlessly past her hip and out of his grasp, surprising the man with how easily she'd just disarmed him. 

Frantic, he hurried back to his stash of weapons for a wooden sword.  Sal kept her attention on him as she returned to her own pile for something her size.  She found a practice knife.  Placing it in her belt, she just waited, still squatting. 

Kinetry rushed her.  Rolling, she snaked her hand out and grabbed the butt of her spear.  Resting the point on the ground, the shaft served as a shield for the wild blows her opponent threw.  With so little control, it didn't take long for his arms to tire.  That's when she lifted the tip and yanked it sideways, knocking his feet out from under him.  He hit hard, but she had to gain control of the weapon before she could finish him.  Moving up the shaft, she placed her body midway along the length of it.  She found the balance just as the recruit flung himself to his feet. 

Not daring to waste the chance, she shoved the point at his unprotected chest.  The round, wooden tip struck hard, knocking him back into the dirt.  A true spear would have impaled a man with that force.  Sal waited to hear her victory called.

"Light.  A wound," Zep said instead.

Shocked, she missed her chance to point the tip at Kinetry again.  He'd already found his feet, and with unexpected force, he swatted the spear from her hands.  She retreated, dodging the rest of his blows with ease.  Twisting out of his way, she found herself among his weapons.  A staff lay at her feet, begging for her attention, so she took it and countered blow for blow.  Each time he left an opening, she scored a hit: his thigh, a hand, his ribs.  Bruised and winded, Kinetry powered on with sheer stubbornness. 

She aimed at his shoulder, shocked when her weapon skipped off and connected with the side of his neck.  Gasping, he staggered to his knees, disoriented, and Sal flicked an ear at Zep – who said nothing.  Her fellow soldier couldn't take more of this, she decided.  It was time to end it.

The staff fell from her hand as she pulled the practice knife from her belt.  Darting in, she looped her left arm around his neck, flowing with his movement as he tried to spin.  Her right hand held the knife securely at Kinetry's throat, the point to his jugular, and she squeezed slightly while he pulled at her arms.  Zep just watched, showing no signs of calling the match.

"What more do you want?" she snarled at the Blade.

"Could you do it?" Zep countered.  "Could you finish him, or just secure him for a stronger, harder soldier to come clean up your mess?"

She tightened her arm on Kinetry's neck and growled, locking her ears back.  Humans always assumed her small size meant weak.  Always!  She would show him just how "weak" she was.  Her lip curled slightly, the low, deep sound resonating in her throat.  Eyes locked with Zep's, Sal held the pressure while Kinetry's struggles grew weaker, his hands struggling to pry her arm from his throat.  With one leg shoved against his back, she waited for the weight of his sweet-smelling body to be completely in her control.  Eventually, his eyes rolled in his head and his mass sagged to the ground. 

Zep finally called out, "Luxx wins!"

She eased the man down while he gasped for breath, then stepped back.  Shift, Riblour, and Saong stood just meters away, the scent of their surprise strong on the spring breeze.  Shift moved to Kinetry's side, placing his hand on the recruit's neck to check his vitals with a deep sigh.  Slowly, Kinetry's breathing eased and his eyes fluttered open. 

"Sorry, man, you lost," Shift told him.

"I knew I would," Kinetry croaked through his damaged throat.  "I saw her that first day, and no one taught me how to beat that type of agility."

At the respect in his ragged voice, Sal's anger subsided, leaving shame for her lack of control in its wake.  Maybe the humans were right.  She'd done it again, acting like little more than the beast they accused her of, all because the human had taunted her.

"Zep," Shift said, never taking his attention from the man on the ground, "you're supposed to shake the hand of the victor." 

Still glaring, Zep offered his hand and Sal grasped it, expecting the rotten feel of human flesh.  To her surprise, his mind crawled weakly into her consciousness, his touch warm and pleasurable.  Standing so close to him, she smelled nothing but human sugar, but otherwise he felt like the other Black Blades. 

I didn't think you had it in you,
he admitted,
I was wrong.  I just don't want fancy footwork to be all I have to back me up if things go bad.

Dark eyes glared at her with seeming hatred, but his mental voice acknowledged that she'd impressed him.  Slightly.  She sent the equivalent of a mental nod, having nothing else to say, and held her lips closed.  He was like no human she'd met before, and she didn't trust him.

Kinetry was assisted to his feet and taken to the infirmary while Shift escorted his group back.  The other recruits lounged around the fountain with LT, relaxed and waiting.  Their conversation hummed in excited tones.

Sal moved to a clear spot.  Riblour and Saong sat with a group of recruits across from her, keeping their distance.  She could see them talking, their heads turned in her direction.  No matter how hard she tried to ignore it, telling herself that soldiers loved to gossip and the rumors would only make them keep their distance, it didn't stop the resentment.  Evidently, she'd never be anything but a freak.