Totally you the man.
Um.
Was my husband bragging about his escapades with me right in front of me?
I stepped out of his arms and planted my hands on my hips.
“Uh… baby,” I called and both men turned to me, both looked at my face, clearly both read my face and before I could say more, Lahn did – not to me, to the warrior.
And I didn’t speak Korwahk but it was clearly, “See what I mean?” and whatever he meant made the warrior roar with laughter again.
The thing was, Lahn did it with him.
I stood there, staring.
I’d never kissed my husband and I’d never seen him laugh. I hadn’t even seen him smile.
Until then.
Jeez, how weird was that?
He had a great laugh and he looked good doing it.
And he had very white teeth.
They stopped laughing, the other warrior said something and tipped his head to me. Lahn nodded, smiling and then suddenly he grabbed my bicep and my body was in motion. Then, I had no idea how he did it, but he swung me up on his back so my arm was around his neck and my thighs were at his hips. His big hands came to my ass and he started walking while talking to the other warrior who fell in step at his side, all the while carrying me on his back.
I curved my legs fully around him to hold on, my other arm going around his chest and there was something about this, something sweet, something intimate, something I liked.
Oh man.
We walked through the encampment and drew every eye from every person we passed. I noticed Lahn didn’t smile or nod his head. I noticed Lahn had his hands on my ass, me on his back and a warrior at his side and that was his whole focus. The people we passed did not exist. He didn’t acknowledge them in any way.
So I did, smiling and nodding at anyone who caught my eye. And there were a lot of those too.
Lahn’s fingers tensed into my flesh and he turned his head and said something to me.
I didn’t understand, obviously, so I dropped my chin to his shoulder and whispered, “I don’t understand you, baby.”
His dark eyes caught mine and he said quietly, “Lahnahsahna Circe … okay?”
Oh man.
Yeah, I was okay. Okay with Lahn attempting to communicate with me in my own language.
Yeah, totally okay.
I closed my eyes and squeezed my arms then nodded, opened my eyes and whispered, “Okay.”
That got me another squeeze on my ass as Lahn looked forward again and his warrior said something to him.
I looked forward too, sighed, held tight and enjoyed the ride.
* * * * *
Okay, it was safe to say, the minute we entered the ginormous tent where the games were held, I knew I wasn’t going to like it.
This was because there were a lot of beefy men sitting around on benches, it smelled like man and booze and there were two men beating the crap out of each other in the middle of the circle of benches. And by that I meant, sweaty, bloody, grunting, beating the crap out of each other.
Very few eyes came to us such was the attention on the match. But an entire bench was open at one side, the other warrior broke off from us and Lahn walked right to it, swung me off his back (jarring my shoulder as he did, the big guy was rough but I was getting the feeling he didn’t know it). He deposited me, feet to the ground, sat, opened his legs wide, grabbed my hand, tugged it so hard it jarred my shoulder again and my knees gave out so I sank to the stone ground. He hauled me between his legs; I did my best to get comfortable and looked around.
Lots of warriors, though I couldn’t find the one who claimed Narinda, not that I was sure I would remember what he looked like. There were no women except the two scurrying around with jugs and filling the leather covered cups the men were guzzling from. One scurried to Lahn, he took the full cup she offered, put it to his lips, gulped back a huge swallow then righted himself and his eyes locked on the fighters.
No beverage was offered to me before the woman scurried off.
Hmm. Apparently women weren’t provided with refreshments.
Figured.
To get comfortable, I scooted close between his legs and draped an arm on Lahn’s thigh. I didn’t know if that was all right but I figured if it wasn’t, I’d find out soon enough.
He didn’t remove it so I leaned into it and looked at the shouting, cheering, stamping warriors.
Man, they were eating this shit up. Nearly frenzied.
Then I looked at the fighters. One looked about to drop. This was good and bad. Good for me because it meant this match was nearly over. Bad for him because it was clear there were no technical knockouts in this game and he looked like he could use one.
I was right. Five minutes later he was down and out.
One minute later he was dragged unceremoniously across the stone ground as the other fighter beat his chest, threw out his ripped arms, stamped his tree trunk legs and shouted his triumph. Then he tore a leather cup from a passing waitress type person and downed most of it in one gulp and poured the rest of it over his body, shaking his big head, blood, sweat and booze flying everywhere and he shouted again.
Yikes.
“Lahnahsahna Circe,” I heard Lahn call my name and I leaned back to look up at him.
“Yeah?”
He brought the cup to my lips. “Gingoo,” he ordered and it didn’t take a linguistics master to know he meant drink.
I parted my lips, he tipped the cup and I noticed as he did he was watching with intense interest.
I expected a beer-like substance, seeing as we were at a sporting event.
It wasn’t a beer-like substance. It was a straight, raw, spirit and it burned my throat but it didn’t taste all that bad. He took the cup away and I grinned at him.
“Kay ahnay see,” I said, he stared at me a second, his bearded chin jerking back in surprise and then his entire head tilted back as he roared with laughter.
I didn’t know what was so funny.
His head tipped down, his eyes moved through the tent and his fist crashed against his chest before he shouted, “Kah Lahnahsahna ahnay see!” then he lifted the cup, spirit splashed out, I heard a roar of cheers and turned my head to see, belatedly, that all the warriors had their eyes on me. Some were stamping their feet. Some were clapping. All were smiling.
“Lahnahsahna hahla!” one warrior yelled and they all cheered again.
I felt Lahn touch the back of my head, I looked up at him again and he held the cup to my lips. “Gingoo, kah fauna,” he ordered gently and then he tipped the cup and I took another drink. When the cup came away from my mouth, the warriors again cheered and Lahn grinned down at me. “Hahla,” he muttered, still grinning.
“Hahla,” I repeated, not having the first clue what I said but happy to say anything to keep him grinning at me like that.
I got what I wanted but he gave me better. The grin broadened to a blinding white smile.
Then his head went back to the action as two more fighters came out.
I smiled to myself and turned back too, thinking, okay, this wasn’t so bad.
Without any ado whatsoever, they went at each other. I noticed immediately this was not like a boxing match from home. Not that I watched much boxing at home but these guys didn’t have gloves, for one thing. For another, there were no referees. And also, I didn’t think boxers were allowed to part wrestle, kick, aim at (and sometimes connect with) the groin and the like.
It wasn’t brutal, it was brutal.
And in this match, I instantly had a favorite. I didn’t know why, I just liked him. Maybe because the other guy kept trying to kick or punch him in the groin so I didn’t think that was fighting fair.
So, when my guy started to look like he was winning, I got excited.
And therefore, not thinking, I cheered. And, as the battle wore on, I cheered loud and I cheered hard.
When the bad guy went down, my arms went straight up, I bounced on my behin
d between Lahn’s legs and I screamed, “Woo hoo! You decked him! Way to go! You rock!”
The victor did not stamp, shout, beat his chest or down a half cup of raw spirit.
His eyes came to me.
Then I felt that all eyes had come to me as the warriors’ bellows petered out.
My arms dropped.
Uh-oh. I fucked up.
Lahn’s huge hand curled tight around the back of my neck.
Uh-oh!
The triumphant fighter took two steps toward me, I tensed and he stopped.
Then he leaned into me, I reared back and he boomed, “Suh Rahna Dahksahna!”
“Suh Rahna Dahksahna!” Another shout rang out.
Then the stamping began as they stood, stomped their feet, punched the air with their fists and chanted, “Rahna Dahksahna! Rahna Dahksahna! Rahna Dahksahna! Rahna Dahksahna!”
Okay, um… it appeared, crisis malfunction. Apparently these boys liked it when their women cheered during blood sports.
Good to know.
I smiled uncertainly at the boys and then felt pressure on my neck. I tipped back my head to see Lahn looking down on me, his face expressionless.
I bit my lip, his gaze dropped to my mouth then his eyes lifted and locked on mine.
Then he muttered, “Good.”
I felt my face melt into a smile.
He shook his head, his lips tipped up then he brought the cup to my lips. I took another big drink; he took the cup away, squeezed my neck and then took his hand away. His attention went back to the center and mine followed. The boys calmed down, new combatants entered the circle and the games resumed.
* * * * *
I knew things were not going to be good when Dortak came in dragging his terrified looking, cowed, eyes-sunken in, arms covered in bruises new bride.
Unlike when Lahn and I arrived, the minute Dortak hauled his woman into the tent, eyes went to him and the vibe changed. There was still cheering, stamping and the fighters didn’t miss an opportunity at landing a blow, but a lethal undercurrent slithered low through the tent and it did not feel good.
When I saw her, without thought, my hand moved swiftly, searching until it found Lahn’s and I curled mine into his. He didn’t give me a reassuring squeeze. He moved my hand to his thigh and curved my fingers around the firm muscle then his hand left mine.
Okay, I didn’t know how to read that. Maybe he just wasn’t the kind of guy who held hands during knockdown, drag out warrior fights. But I was guessing it was an indication that I was his kickass rahna Dahksahna and I needed to suck it up. This was their world and I was in it.
And suddenly, that sucked.
The night had been kind of fun, I knew I was more than slightly tipsy on the spirit Lahn kept giving me and I was feeling loose and truly happy for the first time since I got to this world (again, I was more than slightly tipsy… but still).
Now, the night was not fun and as hard as I tried, I could not take my eyes off Dortak and his bride.
Something there had to give. She was clearly miserable and he was clearly mistreating her. It wasn’t only the bruises; it was the defeated look on her face.
I was going to have to have a word with my husband. The problem was, he understood, at my count, two of my words and I didn’t understand much more of his.
I laid my cheek against my hand on his thigh and stared without interest at the fighters. But my gaze kept drifting back to Dortak and I caught it when one warrior leaned over to Dortak, jerked his head at me, telling him something while smiling, something Dortak didn’t think was worthy of a smile if the ferocious frown he aimed my way was anything to go by. Therefore, I knew my cheering and drinking had been recounted and Dortak would not have been amongst those shouting my title in approval.
I pulled in a steadying breath to stop myself from having a visible reaction to the hate coming my way and my eyes went back to the fighters.
Minutes later, I heard a cry from his direction and it wasn’t from a warrior. My eyes moved there and my torso shot straight.
Dortak had his hand in his wife’s hair, he was yanking her head this way and that at the same time pulling his sex out of his hides.
No, he wasn’t going to…
He pushed her face into his lap, forcing himself into her mouth.
I surged to my feet and took a flying step forward but two iron arms clamped around me, one at my belly, one at my chest and Lahn’s mouth came to my ear. He spoke quietly, even gently but I didn’t hear a word he said (regardless of the fact I probably wouldn’t understand them) as I stared in shock and tried to get venom to spew out of my eyes and fly with precision at Dortak who held my angry stare and used his meaty fist in his wife’s hair to force her mouth back and forth on his shaft.
“Stop him,” I whispered as Lahn pulled me back then sat, not pushing me to the ground but settling me in his lap. “Stop him,” I repeated louder and he turned me in his arms and shoved my face in his neck so I could no longer see. “Kay me ahnoo!” I snapped into his neck.
“Rayloo, kah fauna,” Lahn murmured and kept my face in his neck with his hand cupped on my head and my body in his lap with his strong arm clamped around it.
I lifted a hand and curled it around the other side of his neck. “Kay me ahnoo,” I told him and his arm gave me a squeeze. “Kay me ahnoo,” I repeated on a whisper but he didn’t do anything except for the fact that he didn’t let me go.
I knew it was over when his hand loosened on my head and dropped down to become an arm wrapped around my body.
He still didn’t let me go and he didn’t shove me off his lap and force me between his legs. He just kept me where I was, holding me in his lap. I carefully took my face out of his neck and looked at his profile. He was silently watching the fighters. Then I chanced a look at Dortak. His bride was still between his legs, body facing the fighters but her head was bent, her cheeks flaming and her eyes were directed to the ground.
I turned back and shoved my face in Lahn’s neck.
I felt his chest expand with a big breath that he let out very slowly.
I didn’t want to be there anymore and I curled into him and tried to shut everything out, hoping it would be over soon.
This became impossible when I heard taunting, loud words hurled in what seemed to be our direction. I lifted my face out of Lahn’s neck, turned my head and saw Dortak standing before us, jeering at Lahn, spittle coming out of his mouth, his face red and his fist beating his chest. My eyes darted to his wife who was where he left her on the ground but now curled into herself, arms tight around her legs, eyes peeking from behind her knees.
Lahn said something calmly and I looked up at him to see he looked as calm as his voice then swiftly I looked to Dortak who had not taken to Lahn’s calm very well. He was red in the face and the veins in his neck were standing out as he continued to shout.
What was going on?
Lahn asked him a question to which Dortak spat out a, “Meena!”
Lahn nodded. Then he stood, me in his arms, he set my ass on the bench, his eyes coasted across mine then he straightened and turned.
The instant he did the warriors all rose from their seats, arms up, shouts deafening and they were saying only one word.
“Dax!”
Oh fuck.
Was Lahn going to fight this guy?
Dortak immediately swung a punch, connecting with Lahn’s jaw.
I rose to my feet.
Lahn took two steps back, pointed at me, his finger moved to the bench and he clipped out, “Lutoo! Boh!”
Dortak closed in and connected again, this time with Lahn’s ribs.
I sat, not wanting to divert his attention again but I sat on the edge of the bench and how I stayed on the bench I had no clue since I was shaking like a leaf.
Dortak connected, again, again, again, a quick succession of blows that Lahn didn’t appear even to try to deflect.
Then another one to the face so brutal Lahn’s torso swung around a
nd down, his hand going to the blood that was now dripping from his mouth. Dortak charged to attack but Lahn lifted an elbow, connecting with Dortak’s nose not only with the strength of his arm but Dortak’s momentum. Dortak stumbled back and Lahn went in, palm to throat. He lifted Dortak clean off his feet and slammed him flat on his back on the stone, the crack of his skull hitting the stone sounding with a sickening thud that made my stomach to turn.
The warriors went wild.
Lahn had gone down on a knee to take Dortak to his back and he swiftly moved one leg to put his knee to Dortak’s arm in order to incapacitate it, the other calf he shoved in Dortak’s neck as he twisted the rest of his body to Dortak’s legs. He caught a flailing ankle, yanked the man’s hides back and then he pulled a small knife out of a sheath.
All cheering silenced instantly and I rose again to my feet, the fingers of both hands coming to my mouth.
None of the other fighters had weapons. They used their fists, their feet, their wits… not steel.
Lahn removed his legs from Dortak but swiftly turned and kept him down, one hand wrapped around his throat, the other hand holding the knifepoint aimed a half an inch from his eye.
Then he growled something in his face.
Dortak’s only response was to choke. Lahn was strangling him. Dortak’s face was turning purple and veins were popping out along his temple.
Lahn repeated what he’d growled earlier.
Dortak kept gasping for breath, his hands pushing ineffectually at Lahn’s arm, his legs kicking out.
Lahn repeated what he’d growled.
Dortak made gurgling noises.
Then, quick as a flash, the knife moved and blood covered Dortak’s face as he howled.
I gasped, stepped back and hit bench so stopped.
Lahn pushed off him and up to his feet, tossing the knife down so it landed on Dortak’s chest, bounced off and clattered to the stone ground.
Lahn stared down at him then spit in his direction, the spittle landing on Dortak’s shoulder.