Fight And The Fury (Book 8) (16 page)

Nath glanced at Selene. Her eyes were wide, and her jaw hung open. In a moment, she recovered and focused on him.

“That isn’t part of the custom,” she said without batting an eye, “but the champion is entitled to such a bold request.” Her eyes flitted towards the champion. His big arms roused the crowd. “I’m sure they wouldn’t think any less of you if you declined. And I’m certainly not going to make you do it. That’s up to you.”

Nath’s eyes narrowed. It wasn’t what Selene said that bothered him. It was what she didn’t say. Omission was one of the best ways to hide the truth and bury a lie. Wrap meaningless words around it.
She’s hiding something. I can feel it.
His eyes drifted to the fallen warriors in the mud. Why would he avenge people he didn’t know? They knew what they were in for. And that man in the arena, he would love to teach him a lesson, but it was beneath him. At least it should be.

“I think I’ve seen enough,” he said, getting up and turning away. “I wish to return to the tower.”

“Understood,” Selene said, “understood.” She addressed the citizens. “Citizens, the Battle Royale is over. And you, Champion, will have to make another request. Nath Dragon is our guest, and we dishonor him by challenging him to a death match.”

The crowd became restless and started to boo and shout.

“Teach him a lesson, Nath Dragon!”

“Avenge that brave woman!”

“Feed that brute his helmet!”

“Stuff those gauntlets in his mouth!”

The comments stirred his blood, making him turn and look down on the challenger.

“Yes, teach me a lesson, Nath Dragon,” Iron Helm said, “or be a coward and walk away.”

Nath set his jaw and headed for the wall.

Selene grabbed him by the crook of his arm and said, “It’s not worth it. You’re right. You are better than this. Let’s go. The crowd will forget about it soon enough, and who knows, maybe you can dazzle them someday with other awesome feats.”

“He called me a coward,” Nath said.

“A word, a meaningless word. Come,” she said, “Come.”

As Nath began to turn away, the champion removed his helmet and said, “Come back and play, Dragon, or are you afraid I might kill you!”

Nath’s face flushed red. He recognized the face. The voice.

But it was Selene who spoke first.

“Kryzak!” she yelled. “You traitor! You dog! How dare you infiltrate this honorable event! I should have your head for this.”

“I only wish to please you, High Priestess!” the war cleric said. “To win my honor back. Return to your side. I’ve learned the error of my ways. ”

Nath glared at the man with the tattooed forehead, taking it all in. The war cleric had changed. And he was bigger. Uglier, with scales on his head. Ah, part draykis. Barnabus had to have done this. Why would he not side with Selene?

“You are a failure, Kryzak,” she continued. “Trying to overthrow me was a fatal mistake. I rule this army, not you. I am done with you.”

“But I am the champion now!” He thumped his chest. “Let me fight him. Let me earn the right to rule by your side.”

“You have no right, aside from one. A champion’s request. And if you have any wisdom left, you should plead for your life.” She motioned to her soldiers. They surrounded Kryzak. “I suggest you move on.”

Kryzak laughed. “My request stands.” He shot a look at Nath. “Come down here, big mouth. You know you want to. Please the crowd. Please yourself.”

The crowd began the chant.

Nath! Nath! Nath! Nath!

His claws dug into his paws. He hated Kryzak after what he’d done, drowning Shum and almost killing Brenwar, Sasha and Bayzog.

He has it coming!

He leapt into the arena, and the crowd went into a frenzy.

“Nath!” Selene yelled. “You don’t have to do this!”

He glanced back at her and said, “Yes, I do.” He turned, oblivious to the veiled smile on her lips, and faced Kryzak. The war cleric stood tall, his girth thick and unnatural. A crooked smile crossed over his lips. He said, “Anything goes?”

Nath replied, “Anything you have won’t be enough.”

The fighters squared off in the middle of the arena, and the soldiers disbursed along the wall. Selene rose her arms and hushed the crowd.

“The Champion of Narnum versus the great Nath Dragon.”

The people cheered. The rain poured down.

“Anything goes. This match is to the death.”

“Aren’t you going to put your helmet on?” Nath said to Kryzak. “You’re going to need it.”

Kryzak sneered and strapped it on.

Selene dropped her arms, and the brass trumpets blared.

Nath sprang and knocked Kryzak’s helmet from his head.

The big man staggered back, wiping the blood from his jaw and shaking his head.

“You looked better with it,” Nath said, “I’ll say that much.”

“Try that again,” Kryzak said.

“Am I supposed to wait for you to put the helmet back on?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Kryzak shook his head. “You and that tongue of yours. It’s time I ripped it out.” He muttered an incantation, lowered his head, and charged.

Nath braced himself. A smacking collision of bone, muscle, and scales followed, jolting Nath’s entire body.

Sultans of Sulfur! What is he made of?

Kryzak punched hard. Swift. A donkey didn’t kick that hard.

“Oof!”

The war cleric socked his belly, doubling him down. A nasty uppercut followed.

Clack!

Nath’s feet left the ground. He splashed back-first into the mud, his jaw loosened and his face hurt. The roaring crowd surged in his head. He pushed his fist in the mud and gathered his feet beneath him, teetering a little. His skin tingled.

Treachery! Magic!

But it was an anything-goes match.

Across from him, Kryzak raised his fists up, working the crowd and beating his chest.

“I am the champion! I will kill Nath Dragon!”

Nath’s eyes slid over to Selene. She leaned back in her chair: smug, satisfied.

Treachery alright.

Kryzak dug his iron helmet out of the mud and tossed it over.

“Perhaps you need this helmet more than I do! Ha, ha, ha!”

Nath crossed the distance between them in a second.

Wham! Wham! Wham! Wham!

The war cleric absorbed every hit and dished out his own.

Pow! Pow! Pow! Pow! POW!

Nath’s head snapped back over his shoulders. He stumbled through the mud, reeling, and splashed down on his knees. His head rang over the frenzied crowd. Nath shook it. Kryzak was a rock. His punches great hammers.

Think, Dragon!

With a groan, he rose up in the pouring rain.

Kryzak held the iron helmet. He crushed it in his hands.

“That will be you, Nath!” He slung off his gauntlets and tore off his robes. His hulking frame was dragon-scaled and ridged. An abomination of man and dragon. Similar to the draykis: part living, part dead, and radiating a dark aura. “I’m more dragon than you. I’m more everything than you.” He slammed his clawed hands together. “Come, let me show you I am invincible.”

“Everything has a weakness,” Nath said, sloshing through the muddy arena, “and certainly something as ugly as you does.”

Nath approached, mind racing.
I should be able to handle this. I’m a dragon, and no ordinary one at that. He can’t be stronger than me. He can’t be.
He closed in.

Kryzak punched.

He shifted aside and jabbed Kryzak under the chin.

Kryzak countered.

Nath blocked and rammed an elbow in Kryzak’s temple. A flurry of punches followed, driving the cleric backward and off balance. Nath’s foot swept his legs.

Splash!

Kryzak laughed and got up.

“Fool! You cannot hurt me! Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He dashed the muddy water from his eyes. “Everything you do makes me stronger. I’m stronger than a giant now. Stronger than a dragon. Ha, ha! Of course, you can walk away, like a coward, but will your pride let you? Do you fear a true life-or-death battle?”

“I fear nothing!”

“You do fear! You are a failure! And you are about to fail in front of all Narnum and let the entire world down!”

The crowd began to boo. Their chants became ugly.

“Ha!” Kryzak continued. He lorded over the fallen woman. “Did you think you would avenge her? Did you think you would teach me a lesson, be the noble Nath Dragon? Ha! You jumped right in without thinking, and now it will be your doom.” He flung a club at Nath and stuck his ugly chin out. “Come on. Take your best shot. I’ll give you a free one. Or would you rather run,
coward
.”

The sneer on Kryzak’s scaled and tattooed face enflamed Nath’s rage. He charged into the cleric with ram-like force. He put everything he had behind his punches.

The titans battled all over the arena, using fists, feet, knees, clubs, shields, and helmets. One heavy-handed blow after the other, the pair rocked each other back and forth.

Nath punched until his paws ached, probing for a weakness. He struck knees, temples, eyes, ribs, ankles. Everything he could think of.

Whop!

Kryzak drove him down with two fists in his back.

Nath bounced up and slugged into his ribs.

They twisted in the mud. Pummeled one another. Slammed into the dirty waters. Clubs busted off heads and shoulders. Shields splintered.

“You fight hard, but you cannot win!”

Wham!

Nath’s knees wobbled.

Wham!

He landed in the mud again.

The war cleric leapt high and descended towards Nath, jamming his clawed toes into Nath’s gut.

The pair of giants wrestled in the muck, raising the cry of the crowd to its highest crescendo. They grappled and fought.

Nath spat mud.

Kryzak head-butted him in the nose.

Bright stars erupted inside Nath’s eyes. Blood ran down his nose. Dazed, he felt his arms fall limp for a moment.

Kryzak spun behind him, locking both arms behind his neck in a full headlock. “It’s over for you, Nath Dragon!” The cleric cranked up the pressure. Two dozen men in one.

Nath strained. His arm and neck muscles bulged and cracked.

“No!” he yelled.

“Yes!” Kryzak said, forcing Nath’s chin into his chest.

Nath surged back. His feet dug into the mud, and he pushed back against the force.

Kryzak slipped in the mud, but his mighty arms held.

“No,” the war cleric said, “I’ll never let go until you’re dead!”

Iron thewed muscles bulged underneath Nath’s black scales. Wriggling and shaking, he raked his claws over the cleric’s skin.

Kryzak would not give.

This can’t be happening!

“Once this is over,” Kryzak said in his ear, squeezing harder and harder, “I’ll find all your friends and kill them.”

Red-faced, soaked in mud, rain, and sweat, and nose bleeding, Nath choked out, “Never!”

He drove both elbows into Kryzak’s rib cage.

The cleric didn’t budge.

Nath’s paws stretched out towards the crowd. He started choking.

“It’s over, Coward!” said Kryzak’s voice. Eerie. Throaty. Annoying.

Nath’s gold eyes flared. His dragon heart raced. Smoke rolled from his nose. He summoned every ounce of strength within and turned it loose in a super-human heave.

“GRAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Fire exploded from Nath’s mouth, turning the rain to steam.

Kryzak’s grip loosened.

Nath tore free.

“Impossible!” Kryzak said.

Nath didn’t hear a thing. He cut loose his rage. He hit hard and fast.

Whop! Whop! Whop! Whop!

Kryzak’s body sagged. Pain filled his eyes.

“How?”

Nath snatched the bigger man off the ground and hurled him into the wall, driving the crowd wild. The surge of energy consumed him. He was bigger, stronger, and faster than ever.

Kryzak gathered his feet and lumbered forward, arms raised.

“You cannot beat—”

Pow!

Kryzak’s aura faded.

Nath wailed away with fury in his eyes. Kryzak battled back a few more seconds until his entire body gave out. Nath locked the war cleric’s tattooed head in the nook of his arm and dragged him out of the mud.

“To the death,” he said, amping up the pressure.

Kryzak’s grey eyes bulged.

Krack!

He dropped Kryzak in the mud, took a deep breath, and with a whoosh of torrential fire burned all of his enemy’s skin, scale and muscles to the bone.

“…and then some.”

The crowed hailed him all day and long into the night.

Nath! Nath! Nath! Nath! Nath! Nath! Nath! Nath! Nath…

CHAPTER 32

Nath lay in bed. The sheets and pillows were soft. Every bit of his body was sore. It had been almost a week since he battled Kryzak in the arena. A long week. With a groan, he sat up on the bed’s edge and stretched his long, sinewy scaled limbs.

“Ah!” he said, wincing.

Whatever spell Kryzak had cast, it was a powerful one. Fighting dragons had been less trouble. The war cleric had almost beaten him to death. Nath could still feel the blows thundering into him. He stood up, rubbing his neck, cracking it from side to side, and then checked his hair in the body-length mirror.

“He never should have gotten mud in my hair,” he said, smiling a bit. His lips were cracked, and his cheeks were bruised and swollen. He eyed himself toe to head. “I’m still the finest looking dragon in this town.” He took a seat at the edge of the bed and rested his chin on his fist.

What is she doing to me?

Now, after the fight, the bewitching woman had few words to say to him. “I’m disappointed,” was all she had said. It threw him. He spent days wondering what she meant by that, but still angry, he didn’t want to speak. Selene had guile. And he had trouble being able to tell whether she set up the entire incident with Kryzak or not.

It’s best to assume she did
, he thought.
Evil lies, always.