Dragon Lords 4-Warrior Prince (14 page)

Suddenly, she heard the telltale strike of metal to metal. She smiled mischievously. Today was her lucky day. Lifting her shirt, she took out the knives hidden in her waistband and bounced them lightly in her hand. It was time to have some fun.

* * * *

Pia grinned at the surrounding men. It hadn’t taken long for her to draw a crowd. At first, everyone had stared at her--especially her short hair--in wonderment. Then, when she took her knives and began to throw, the men had begun to gather around to watch her. They nodded their heads in grudging respect of her skill and soon no one cared that her hair was short or that she was a woman invading their practice field.

Pia smiled to herself. It was the same everywhere she went. Warriors were easily won over with a little show. She tossed the last of Zoran’s knives at the throwing post and turned to look at the small crowd.

"Any challengers?" she called to the men. The men smiled in return, looking around their ranks.

"I’ll take that challenge, my lady," one of the soldiers said. He was a scruffy looking lad with long lips and an easy smile.

"And you are?" Pia questioned.

The man bowed gallantly before her, his nature effortless in its good humor. "Hume, my lady."

"Well, Sir Hume," she said loudly, an impish grin lining her features. "I hope you don’t mind losing to a woman."

The surrounding men howled with laughter. Hume waved his hand gallantly at them, completely unconcerned.

"If I have to lose," he said most courteously. He took up her hand and bowed low over it. "Let it be my heart to one as lovely as you, my lady."

Pia smirked, not taking notice of the gallantry. She snatched her hand away and waved him back as she went to retrieve her blades. The crowd laughed louder at the man’s bold banter and the lady’s firm dismissal of it. All of them were taken by the beautiful woman who threw better than most men and smiled so straightforwardly that it made their single hearts melt.

Pia walked up, lifting the hilt to Hume in offering.

"No, my lady," he murmured graciously. His eyes sparkled. "By all means, you go first."

* * * *

Agro cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Draea Anwealda."

Zoran turned up from the papers he was still trying to get through. He lifted a finger before concluding the last sentence with a slight sigh. He hadn’t been able to get the documents read the night before. His mind kept thinking of Pia and the boring trade agreement couldn’t compete. With a sigh, he reached over to a nearby table and grabbed a pen. He quickly signed his name before handing the documents over to a waiting soldier, saying, "Deliver these to the King immediately."

The man nodded and was off.

Zoran stepped out of the small one room building, which he loosely referred to as an office, onto the practice field. Smiling, he nodded at Agro. "What brings you out?"

"Ach, the wife is pregnant and she’s kicked me out of the house again," the man said, waving a dismissing hand as if it were not big deal. "She says I make her crazy, but I tried to tell her she’s always crazy at this time."

Zoran chuckled and began walking toward the far end of the field to the village. He’d seen the man’s slender wife. She was the only person who could make this giant tremble with fear.

Agro was a beefy monster of a man with two green eyes that were currently blackened with matching bruises. He had an easy smile that was always full of mischief. He’d grown up around the four Princes, knew them well, and was well liked by them in return.

"She do that to your face while kicking you out?" Zoran asked, motioning to the black eyes and still chuckling.

"Ach, no! That was your brother, Ualan. He got a bit testy at the Breeding Festival and needed to vent," Agro said. "And I might have said a few things that aggravated him."

Zoran’s smile faded slightly.

"So how’s your new blushing bride?" Agro asked. Zoran wondered at the man’s roguish grin. He was up to something. "Word is she hasn’t been out since the wedding. You keeping her tied up somewhere?"

"Ah," Zoran waved the question away.

"I see it’s true you disfigured her," Agro said with a smirk.

Since Agro was like a brother to him, he let the insolence pass.

"I don’t know why you would’ve done it. She has a glorious color to her hair. When the sun hits it, its like spun gold," Agro said.

Zoran nodded, but then, taking in what the man said, he stopped and frowned. When had this man seen Pia outside? He hadn’t been there when he’d introduced her to his parents at the festival.

Unhampered, Agro continued in his mischief, "Yeah, she’s a beauty all right. Not like Yusef’s little firebird who’s all vigor and flames. No, your wife is all air and light. Why, those eyes of hers, what would you say are they brown? Green? I couldn’t rightly tell. Ah, it doesn’t matter--"

"What are you talking about?" Zoran asked when it became clear the man intended on rambling until he stopped him.

Agro grinned.

"Where is she?" Zoran demanded hotly, his face snarling. His stomach tightened into knots and he placed his hands on his hips.

"Ah, so you don’t know that your wife’s gone and joined the military?" questioned Agro needlessly.

"Joined the...?" Zoran began in confusion. In order to join, she’d have to get his permission. "What are you going on about?"

"She’s practicing right now with the men," Agro said, motioning Zoran’s attention to the growing group of soldiers around the knife post.

Zoran frowned, storming forward. He told himself it wasn’t possible. Pia was locked safely away in their home. There was no way she could have gotten out.

Agro watched the Prince in curiosity. He knew Zoran well enough to know he wouldn’t like his beautiful new bride around the rowdy soldiers without him. He also knew that an unruly wife was just what the Prince needed. Zoran was too serious. He ran his life like he ran his military. He needed a little conflict at home to loosen him up and add smile lines to his tense, sober face.

Zoran came around the group of men and froze. Hume was throwing his knives at the post. Pia, his wayward wife, was standing next to him, clapping good naturedly as the man hit his mark.

Zoran’s limbs tightened in outrage and, for a moment, he couldn’t move.

Pia laughed as Hume copied her throw and hit her marks. A bright smile came to her face as she glanced around. She missed the hard countenance of her husband at the edge of the crowd.

Hume, his wide lips grinning from ear to ear, teased, "Would you like to try again, my lady? I’m trying to take it easy on you."

"Hume!"

Pia jolted in alarm at the gruff bark. All eyes turned around at the noise. She blinked in confusion to see her husband. She’d thought he would be off guarding something. She glanced over at Hume.

The soldier stepped forward and bowed to her husband, as he answered, "Yes, Draea Anwealda."

"Since you have so much energy, lead these men through a march of the east field course," Zoran commanded.

"Yes, Draea Anwealda," Hume said. He began calling out orders.

Pia trembled, seeing how all the men stood at attention, only to solute Zoran at the order to march. Her heart hammered in her chest as she turned to watch her husband. Instantly, she saw his authoritative pose. He wasn’t a guard. He was the commander. How could she have missed it?

The men filed into an orderly line and jogged off without giving her a backwards glance. Zoran stared hard at his wife, trying to control his anger. Agro, who watched Pia’s stubborn expression from behind him, slowly slipped away, grinning like a fool.

Pia swallowed. They were alone on the field. Unable to come up with a single thing to say, she smiled, shrugged and turned to go gather the knives from the post.

"Don’t you move," Zoran said. His tone was soft but there was no doubt that it was a command.

Pia froze, despite her instinct to run away as fast as she could. She kept her back to him. A grimace purposefully formed on her features as she waited.

Zoran took a slow step to her. Pia tensed. He continued past, going to grab his knives from the post. Clenching them in his fist, he marched back to stand in front of her. His arm rose, motioning to a nearby guard, who was passing, to come to him. He handed the knives to the man and ordered that he put them in his office. The guard bowed and obeyed, leaving the couple once more alone on the field.

Pia gulped and looked Zoran directly in the eye while she waited for him to speak.

"Who let you out?" he demanded after a long, hot pause in which he glared at her.

Pia frowned at his hard tone, growing irritated with him. She’d been having fun until he showed up and ruined it. Bitterly, she murmured, "Don’t you mean to say, how did I escape my prison?"

"Pia," he said, his eyes narrowing.

"Warden," she said insolently in the same tone. She crossed her arms over her chest and mimicked his militant stance.

"Do you think this is a game?" Zoran asked, outraged that she would openly defy him on his field--the place he commanded. He’d never wanted to kiss anyone as bad in his life.

"It’s your fault I’m out here," Pia said. Her brow rose on her face, daring him on into a fight.

Zoran realized that she wasn’t scared of him. She seemed to thrive on his growing anger.

"My fault?" he growled in disbelief.

"I asked you nicely to let me out of the house during the day. I wouldn’t have had to sneak out behind your back if you hadn’t forbidden me to throw your knives," she fumed. "I tried to reason with you, tyrant."

"I told you no!"

"I’m not your lap dog," she said. "I’m not one of these men you can order about."

"You are my wife," he said, as if that one thing gave him the right to be angry.

"This is all I know how to do, Zoran," she proclaimed waving her hand about the field.

"I thought you could sew," he answered with a dark snarl.

"And I thought you were a royal guard, so I guess we’re even. I only told you I could sew to try and get out of the house," she said honestly. She uncrossed her arms and put them on her hips. She took a menacing step forward. Poking him definitely in his rock-hard chest, she said, "I’m sick and tired of you, Zoran, and your macho, controlling attitude. Either you get your act together and resign yourself to the fact that you didn’t marry a homemaker, or give me my divorce. The choice is up to you. But I’ll not be kept a prisoner anymore."

As she screamed the word divorce at him, he glanced around. A few villagers were gathered below them, pointing and watching the royal couple in awe. He saw Agro, a frown on the man’s lips, as he tried to usher the curious onlookers away.

Pia wasn’t concerned with the villagers. She was too mad. Zoran’s eyes flash with a golden fire, as he shot forward and grabbed her arm. Tugging her behind him, he began leading her away from the field.

Pia stumbled, tripping over her feet as she tried to dig her heels into the ground to stop him. When that didn’t work, she jumped and landed on his back. Her arm wound around his neck as she squeezed.

Zoran stumbled in amazement that she actually tried to attack him in public, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Her long legs wound around his waist. Zoran jerked, throwing her over his body.

Pia flipped over his shoulder, through the air, and landed hard on the ground. She grunted as she fell forward, bruising her knees. Zoran descended upon her. Wrenching her arm behind her back, he hauled her to her feet.

Pia struggled against him, moaning slightly when he pulled her arm higher. She refused to scream. Her body tensed waiting for any opening to escape. Her lungs heaved for air.

"Behave," Zoran ordered, giving her a hard shake. He pulled her back into his chest. His fire-laden eyes shone with excitement. Pia tensed. His mouth came close to her throat and she felt his teeth on her neck, biting lightly.

"Let me go," she ordered with a growl.

"Do you concede the fight?" he asked against her flesh, goading her.

"Never," she said. "I’ll never concede to you, you lying bastard!"

Zoran pulled back from her throat. With a swift jerk, he twirled her into the air. Pia screamed in surprise. He caught her easily over his shoulder and stormed into the castle.

"Draea Anwealda," the guard said at the front gate. His eyes were wide as he saw the struggling, screaming Princess over the Prince’s shoulder. The Prince nodded at him as if nothing was amiss.

Pia glared at the soldier as she was carted away. Suddenly, she dug her nails into Zoran’s back, clawing him.

Zoran flinched, arching as he loosened his hold. Pia kneed him in the chest and pushed up, falling over his back to the floor. Hitting the ground in a summersault, she rolled, hopped instantly to her feet, and ran for the castle entrance.

"Stop her," Zoran ordered the guard, striding after his wife.

The guard instantly moved in her way, blockading her. Pia smiled cruelly. This man was obviously underestimating his prey. She ran faster. His arms widened as if to catch her. Pia ducked at the last possible second, kicking his legs out from under him. The surprised soldier landed on his back but sprang forward to grab her ankle as she tried to rush past.

Pia fell to the ground, bumping her chin on the hard earth. Her teeth jarred in her head and she kicked at the soldier’s head, barely missing.

Suddenly, Zoran’s hand was on the back of her hair, hauling her up. Pia moaned loudly, more in outrage than in pain.

"On your feet," the Prince bellowed to the soldier, who instantly obeyed and stood back up.

This time Zoran wasn’t so pleasant in his restraint. He hooked a large arm around her neck and dragged her before him. When Pia tried to bite at his arm, he flexed his muscles and cut off her air. She began struggling for breath, clawing at his arm to be free. Her head spun and her arms weakened. When her scratches lightened, Zoran loosened his hold. Pia gasped for air, clutching at his arm. He marched her down the long hall, dragging her when her feet stumbled at the awkward angle. He turned the corner to his home.