Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,87
of them were now chasing him. “Why gang up on me? What’s wrong with killing each other?”
“Shut up and die, Zetithian!” a big blond Terran shouted.
Moe dodged a blow from a particularly lethal-looking blade wielded by a long-armed Herpatronian. “Clearly, you’ve never met my mother. She would disown me if I were to go quietly.”
“I have met your mother,” the Herp growled. “Why else would I have to steal to survive?”
“Then you really are a bunch of crooks.” Moe parried yet another blow before retreating fast enough that the Herp’s sword met nothing but air. Spinning like a top, the Herp crashed into two Haedusians. None of them got up again.
“Three down, only about a dozen or so to go.”
Darting toward an unoccupied section of the arena, Moe took stock of his opponents. Several were fighting among themselves while two others were hurtling toward him. “Ganging up on me again? Didn’t your mommas teach you to play fair?”
“There are no rules here, Zetithian!”one of them shouted. “If we kill you, Pelarus might be pleased enough to release us all.”
Moe skidded sideways, putting himself beyond their reach. “I wouldn’t count on it, big guy.” Which was a misnomer because the one who’d spoken was a short, hunchbacked Vetla whose armor wasn’t exactly a perfect fit. His long, bony fingers were pretty effective at holding a sword, however, and he was surprisingly quick on his feet.
“You might be better off playing dead and letting me win.” Moe went on. “I’ve got friends. The revolution is about to begin.”
“Not soon enough for you,” the blond Terran said with a sneer. “Besides how could we trust you not to kill us when we were down?”
“My inherent sense of fair play?” Moe parried a blow from the Vetla with ease. “Unlike you, I really am an honest fellow. My only crime is loving the woman Pelarus wants.” Grinning, he added, “She likes me best.” He glanced at the crowd, which was undergoing a rather surprising transformation. “Oh, and by the way, the women are going to win. If I were you, I’d switch sides while I still had time.”
A moment passed before Moe noticed his two opponents appeared to be losing steam. Then he realized why as the Vetla yanked off his helmet and stood up straight.
“Temfilk!” Moe exclaimed. “I could’ve killed you, you stupid fool.”
The Norludian snorted. “Aw, you wouldn’t hurt a dwithan,”
“I wouldn’t have let that happen anyway,” the Terran said as he began to morph into Nexbit. “Now we just have to wait until the rest of these guys finish each other off. Although it might be best for us to keep fighting to allay suspicion.”
“Gotcha,” Moe said. “We can have a little sword practice while we wait.” He glanced toward the battle raging nearby. “Where are the Racks?”
Temfilk chuckled as he struck Moe’s shield with a half-hearted swing of his blade. “Didn’t come out when the gates were opened. Smart move, really. The damned Nedwuts didn’t even notice them.”
Moe had his own theory about that, particularly given what was happening in the stands. He turned toward dais where Pelarus sat on his throne as though oblivious to the danger surrounding him, then began a steady drumbeat of sword on shield. Nexbit and Temfilk followed suit. Surprisingly, so did the remaining combatants.
“Pelarus,” Moe yelled. “You have something of mine, and I want it back.”
“And what would that be?”
“My mate, you pompous prick.”
“She is my bride-to-be,” Pelarus said with a haughty sneer. “I refuse to bandy words with a man who would cheat on his opponents.”
“Cheat? Get down here, you ridge-faced bastard, and I’ll show you how much I’ve been cheating. I’ll beat the crap out of you with one hand tied behind my back. No weapons. Just you and me, bucko.” He caught himself grinning at his use of his mother’s favorite choice of name-calling.
Further proof that this apple didn’t fall very far from the tree.
“You stole Klara from me,” Moe went on. “I should have the opportunity to win her back.” Raising his sword, he addressed the spectators. “Citizens of Srekatoa, what say you? Should he fight or remain on his throne like the coward he is?”
The crowd erupted in a cacophony of voices, most of them shouting “Fight, fight, fight!”
Pelarus appeared to be unmoved, merely raising his hands for silence. “And if I refuse?”
Yirland rose from her seat, standing alone and proud amid a cluster of her followers. “You no longer have a choice.”
The echo of her voice hadn’t begun