The Golden Dynasty

Chapter Seven The Games

The tent flaps slapped open, I jumped, Ghost’s head came up, Teetru, Jacanda, Packa, Gaal and Beetus (who, every last one, even the reserved Teetru, squealed in delight at the vision of me and Ghost earlier when we rode up with Lahn to the tent, he dismounted, yanked me down and then remounted without a word or look and rode off), all surrounding me on the bed and playing with Ghost who also jumped and looked to the tent opening where Lahn was bending low to enter.

He stepped a step inside. Ghost jumped off the bed and scampered over to him, all furry white body and big paws. The baby tiger made it to her new Daddy, jumped up with two paws and clawed his hides.

Lahn stared down at the creature, crossed his arms on his chest, lifted his head and skewered me with a glare.

Oh hell.

“Vayoo,” he growled at me, I had no idea what that meant but Teetru and Jacanda started to push me off the bed.

It was night, I’d had dinner and I was guessing it was time for the games.

I got off the bed, sauntered over to my husband and bent to pick up Ghost who was now clawing at the rugs. She was heavy so I lugged her up and got eye to eye with her.

“Be good,” I warned.

She shoved forward, rubbed my jaw with her head, made a purry noise I knew was Loolah and I laughed and brought her close to give her a hug.

Then she was pulled from my hands and my head turned to Lahn to see him drop her on the ground.

“Lahn!” I snapped but his big hand came out and engulfed mine.

“Vayoo, Lahnahsahna Circe, boh,” he bit out, pulling me toward the tent flaps.

“Oh, all right,” I muttered then turned to the girls and called while waving, “Goodnight ladies. Take care of Ghost.” I pointed at the cub and got a bunch of smiles with waves and nods.

Then the tent flap slapped back and I followed Lahn through it. Or, more accurately, was hauled through it.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, slow down,” I called as I raced to keep up with his long strides.

“Mayoo,” he replied.

“I can’t mayoo, Lahn, jeez, you’re, like, six foot seven. You’ve got a whole foot on me. Every stride you take is two of mine at least,” I said to his back, he stopped abruptly and I nearly slammed into him.

He turned and glared down at me then said a bunch of stuff I didn’t understand but I’d been around guys long enough to know that when the end of what he said went up in a question, he was likely asking me something about females that even if I could understand him, and he me, I could never explain.

So I put my hand to his chest, leaned slightly into him, tilted my head way back and said softly, “That’s just the way it is, big guy, so,” I took my hand off him and pressed it palm flat toward the ground, “slow down.”

His eyes were riveted to my hand and he looked beyond unhappy. He looked, weirdly, pissed off.

Uh-oh.

Okay, maybe I was reading there were times to be The Tigress but when The Tiger was eager to watch a bunch of warriors beating the shit out each other, I should just hurry and keep up.

When he kept looking at my hand in that angry way, I took a precautionary step back, his eyes cut to mine then he moved fast. His arm shooting out, his fingers wrapped around my wrist, they tugged me hard and I fell into him just as he pressed my hand flat on his chest exactly where I’d placed it moments before.

I stared at him as his eyes stared at my hand just under the scratches at his chest and I felt my heart start to hammer.

Then he looked at me.

“Kay ahnay see,” he murmured and pressed my hand deeper into his chest.

I knew what that meant.

He was saying he liked it.

Oh my.

“Uh…” I mumbled, “good.”

“Good,” he muttered and I tipped my head to the side and smiled tentatively at him.

“Yeah… good.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth and his other hand came up, his calloused skin rough at my jaw, his thumb pressed hard against my lips.

“Kay ahnay see,” he repeated quietly and my breath stuck in my throat.

Oh. Wow.

He liked my smile.

Wow. He liked my smile!

I stared up at my warrior husband.

His neck was bent deep so he could look at me, his skin was firm and warm under my hand, his body the same against mine and his face, God… he was gorgeous.

Without thinking, I leaned deeper into him, my hand gliding up his chest, taking his with it, it went up, up, up to curl around his neck, his hand dropped and started to curve around my waist, the other one already there as I tipped my head far back, my eyes closing slowly as he lips got closer and then we heard, “Poyah, Dax Lahn! Poyah, rahna Dahksahna!”

Damn it all to hell!

My eyes opened to see his head, still close, was turned but he had not straightened away from me. I looked in the direction he was glaring and saw a warrior approaching. It was the grinning one from the wedding rite who was so pleased with his bride. He was grinning now too, looking no less pleased, in fact, infinitely more so.

Someone was getting himself some and he liked what he was getting.

My body tensed when I felt Lahn straighten and he snarled a bunch of not happy words at the warrior. Although clearly not happy, as in way not happy, the warrior didn’t miss a step nor did his grin falter. In fact, it got bigger and then he threw his head back and roared with hearty laughter.

He stopped laughing and shook his head as he made it to us and said a bunch of stuff and, while doing it, once gestured to me with his head.

Lahn returned his volley and also gestured to me with his head.

The other warriors eyebrows went up in disbelief and then he said something that sounded disbelieving but, if I wasn’t wrong, it was a kind of “you the man” disbelieving. I was pretty sure I was proved right when his eyes came to me and he looked me up and down then turned to Lahn and nodded his approval.

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 behind 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 and 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.

Then he turned and started to me.

I watched him move, my body shaking then I saw Dortak get up, still choking and my body froze as I saw Lahn had carved a deep, gaping, curving gash from temple over cheekbone partially through his lip and across his jaw.

“Lahn,” I whispered and Dortak bent, snatched the knife off the ground, straightened and I shouted, “Lahn!”

Dortak charged and Lahn turned like I hadn’t shouted his name to indicate imminent danger but like I’d suggested he might want to look over his shoulder and observe the flight of a pretty butterfly. Then his arm came up, he caught Dortak’s wrist that was connected to the hand that was carrying the knife, used it to swing him around and caught him around the throat with his other forearm. Lahn then twisted Dortak to facing this bride and he used the knife still in Dortak’s hand to slash another curving, deep gash down the length of Dortak’s chest, down, down nearly to his groin and then he moved Dortak’s hand and sunk the blade in Dortak’s side.

Dortak grunted in pain and my knees buckled.

Then Lahn pulled out the knife, let Dortak go, he dropped to his knees, hands to his wound and Lahn wiped Dortak’s blood off the knife against his hides. Then he tossed the knife well away.

Then he turned and stalked to me.

I tried to step back but nearly stumbled over the bench as he came at me and I tried to come to terms with the violent justice I just witnessed my husband dish out. Perhaps it was justified but it still freaked me out.

His long legs had him to me in seconds, he grasped my bicep, turned his back to me, swung me up, my legs automatically curled around his hips as he wrapped my arm around his neck and then he stalked out of the tent.

Welp. Guess that meant the games were over.

Yikes!

* * * * *

“Hold still,” I snapped at Lahn, who was sitting on one of the chairs in our tent and he kept jerking his head out of the way when I tried dabbing his cut lip with the wet, soapy rag I’d managed to explain to Teetru I needed.

My eyes moved from his annoyed ones and I tried to dab at the blood again.

He jerked his head away.

“Lahn!” I hissed. “Hold still!”

He didn’t hold still. He tore the rag from my hand, tossed it on the table and came out of the chair with his shoulder in my belly.

I let out a gust of air as I went up then I went down as he threw me on the bed then I let out another gust of air when he landed on top of me.

“Lahn, we need to clean your cut lip.” On a wheeze I told him something he wouldn’t understand and clearly had no intention of sitting around and allowing me to do. It was a miracle I got him to sit in the first place. It only happened five minutes ago and I still didn’t know how I managed it.

His hand went between us and he yanked one panel of my sarong aside.

I knew where this was going.

“Lahn –”

“Rayloo,” he growled.

“Lahn! Your lip!”

That bloody lip (and his not bloody one, they luckily came in pairs) came to mine. “Rayloo, Circe.”

I glared into his eyes as his hand glided up the skin of my side.

Shit, that felt nice.

“All right, rayloo. I’ll rayloo, whatever the hell that means,” I grumbled, his eyes went soft and his hand went away from my side.

It came up to my face where the pad of his thumb put pressure on my chin and his fingers put pressure on my lips.

“Rayloo,” he said quietly.

Ah. Rayloo.

His hand left my mouth.

“Quiet,” I whispered.

“Quiet,” he repeated.

“Rayloo,” I tried it out and he shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with me (as, perhaps, he would considering he’d told me to be quiet and I kept talking) but affirmed, “Rayloo.”

“Okay,” I said softly.

His hand slid down my arm, took mine in his and then it pulled mine between his legs and moved it down inside his hides. Then his fingers curled mine around his hard cock.

Wow. Nice.

I bit my lip and squirmed under him.

He shook his head like he didn’t know what to do with me again, his hand left mine around his cock and his went into my panties.

Okay, I was wrong; he knew what to do with me.

So I shut up and let him do it.