Part 38 (1/2)

The Neetha villagers swarmed to take their places on the steps flanking the Fighting Stone, to watch the bloodsport.

Two swords were tossed onto the Fighting Stone.

Lily watched in horror as Solomon picked up his blade-he held it all wrong, as though he had never swung a sword in anger in his life, which so far as Lily knew, was probably true.

Warano, on the other hand, twirled his sword easily and fluidly in one hand: seasoned and experienced.

Ono appeared beside Lily's platform, spoke across the tenfoot gap. ”This madness. Even if thin man beat Warano, he be sentenced to maze for killing royal son. Is your friend skilled fighter?”

Lily's eyes were filling with tears. ”No.”

”Then why does thin man challenge Warano for you?”

Lily couldn't answer. She just gazed out at Solomon, standing out on the Fighting Stone on her behalf.

Zoe answered Ono's question. ”Where we come from, sometimes you stand up for your friends, even when you can't win.”

Ono frowned. ”I see no sense in this.”

At that moment, a great drum was struck and the obese chief of the Neetha a.s.sumed his place in a royal box overlooking the Fighting Stone and called, ”Fight!”

It would be the most horrific spectacle Lily had ever seen.

Warano lunged at Solomon with a flurry of powerful blows, and Solomon-gentle Solomon, kind Solomon, who had bounced Lily on his knee as a baby-parried them as best he could, staggering back toward the edge of the Fighting Stone.

But it was clear this was a total mismatch.

Wideeyed and venomous, with five cras.h.i.+ng blows, Warano disarmed Solomon and then without so much as a blink, ran him through, the b.l.o.o.d.y blade of his sword protruding from Solomon's back.

Lily gasped.

Solomon dropped to his knees, skewered by the sword, and he looked over at Lily, locking eyes with her, uttering, ”I am sorry, I tried,” a moment before Warano sliced his head from his body.

Solomon's corpse slumped to the ground, headless.

The crowd roared.

Tears flowed down Lily's cheeks. Zoe clutched her to her chest, holding her tight. Wizard and Alby just stood on their slab, watching in abject horror.

Warano raised his fists in triumph, his eyes insane, before casually using Solomon's body to wipe the blood off his blade.

Then he kicked the body off the Fighting Stone, leaving the crocs to fight over it.

”Are there any other challengers!” he roared. ”Does anyone dare oppose me now!”

The crowd of natives cheered.

Lily sobbed.

But as she did so, in a distant corner of her mind, she heard a strange voice coming from Ono's radio saying,”-picked up a residual heat signature about a half hour ago. Just found it. Looks like a downed Huey, UN markings. Near a strangelooking forest.

Sending you my coordinates now, sir-”

The cheering died down and suddenly there was silence around the Fighting Stone.

Long silence.

The only sound was the foul crunching of the crocs tearing Solomon's body apart.

”So there is no one then!” Warano shouted again, quickly translated by Ca.s.sidy.

”Excellent! I shall take my new woman and enjoy her...!”

But then someone spoke.

”I challenge you.”

This time it was Zoe.

THE RESPONSE from the a.s.sembled Neetha said it all. They had never seen anything like this.

Awoman challenging a royal son.

They murmured animatedly, aghast.

”Unless the chief's son is too cowardly to do battle with a woman,” Zoe said.

Sensing the moment, Diane Ca.s.sidy immediately translated Zoe's words for the others and the crowd went into total apoplexy.

Zoe shouted to Warano, adding the sweetener. ”If he defeats me, this Warano can have two white wives.”

When Ca.s.sidy translated this, Warano's eyes lit up like lightbulbs. To own a white woman might have been the ultimate status symbol, but to owntwo...

”Bring her to me!” he called. ”After I beat her, I shall keep her, but as a master keeps a dog.”

Zoe was released from her platform, and she strode down the long plank that gave entry to the Fighting Stone.

Once on the Stone, the plank was withdrawn, and she faced off against the giant Warano.

Wearing only a singlet, cargo pants, and boots, she wasn't exactly big. But her lean muscular shoulders, glistening with sweat, contained a wiry strength.

Standing before the Neetha chief's number one son, the top of her blond head came level with his shoulders. The great black warrior loomed over her.

He kicked Solomon's sword across to her, saying something derisive in his own language.

”Is that so?” Zoe picked up the sword. ”But I don't think you've ever met a woman like me before, a.s.shole. Let's dance.”

With a roar, Warano lunged forward, swinging his sword in a crus.h.i.+ng downward motion that Zoe parried away with some difficulty before sidestepping out of the way.

Warano stumbled and turned, snorting like a bull.