Taming The Queen Of Beasts

If you like music while you're reading, try "Ain't No Grave" by Hidden Citizens and Adam Carpenter. It's what I was listening to while writing this chapter and the following two or three!

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<strong>AARYN</strong>

Elreth's eyes snapped to his and something passed between them—a jolt of fear, but also trust. Strength. There were no words, nothing but a feeling. But his heart surged.

Yet, there was no time to think, no time to question. No time even to allow himself to fear. The call had been made and had to be answered.

And without conscious thought, Aaryn knew that Tobe had leveled a call not just to stand in the way of the disformed becoming a tribe, but to see them dominated as individuals. The Equines would set them down, seeking to increase their own power among the people. It was well within their rights, but… why?

Aaryn let his eyes narrow as he met Tobe's gaze.

Tobe was a good male, but he'd become more and more distant from Reth and the royals ever since Elreth had become Dominant. Was he under pressure from his own elders to increase the stake of the Equines? Or had his personal ambition grown so that he'd just been waiting for this kind of opportunity?

In the end, it didn't matter. There was no choice but to meet the challenge, and so Aaryn threw back his head and called the disformed to align.

As the Alphas and Elreth all moved to the side of the circle, all the trained fighters and Protectors within the disformed stepped forward, while the rest moved to the back to watch and cheer for their brothers and sisters.

Thanking the Creator for his own training, Aaryn prayed that his people would fight the fight of their lives as they turned to face the lines of Equine guards.

He was vaguely aware that Elreth's eyes stayed on him from where she stood to the west with her parents at her sides, and her back to the Leonine. Aaryn wanted to look at her, to flash her a sign not to worry. But there was no time—and a tiny part of him feared how the look in her eyes might shift if he were to lose this fight.

"For the Queen, and for our strength!" he snarled. Behind him, the disformed roared and growled, as Tobe called his guards to attention and to strike. Then, stones skidding out from under running feet, the air buffeted with the cries of Anima determined to win, both forces rushed forward to clash in the fray with cries and calls, gasps and grunts, and the slap of skin on skin.

Aaryn ran forward, only to become a whirlwind. He didn't see faces. He didn't register words. He didn't feel the first blow. Nothing mattered except that enemy hands and feet not reach him, and his own limbs find their marks.

Strike.

Punch.

Thrust.

Turn and twist, one leg out to hook that ankle, then push upright to use the heel of his hand against that temple…

All thoughts of Elreth, or the disformed were gone. Aaryn barely breathed as he gave himself over to the battle in the manner Reth had taught him—no time for thought, only instinct. He moved and breathed and struck without thought, allowing his body to respond, to let his mind register and use his body to meet every threat.

He paid no attention to anyone else, didn't let himself think about what the outcome might be. He only met the attacks thrown at him, striking, thrusting, kicking, calling for his brothers and sisters to keep their eyes up, to meet the enemy. He twisted, whirled and turned to find one massive Equine male reaching for Apryl who had stepped up with the Protectors. But she was off-balance and beginning to topple. Without help, the male would bring her to the ground.

With a snarl, Aaryn stepped forward, grabbing the horse-man's fist as he was about to throw it, and twisting, pressing his hip into the male's side and yanking down to flip him over his leg.

With the male on the ground, he let him go and whirled again, just as another guard bore down on him with an elbow aimed straight for his spine. If it had landed, the blow would have winded him and likely take him off his feet. But with a cry, Aaryn dodged quickly enough that the blow glanced off his ribs, but it stole his breath, making his vision sparkle with stars as he gripped the male's wrist and shoulder, attempting to twist free.

Again and again Aaryn dodged or countered blows. Again and again he danced free of one attack, or took a guard to the ground, only to turn and find another. Until the moment came when he felled one sentry, only to find himself surrounded.

Aaryn froze, hands up in a defensive stance, his eyes darting from male to male, turning a circle, but finding no quarter. To attack one would leave him unguarded on another side and hand his enemies the win.

He cursed and turned again, searching for a gap, any gap that would let him slide through so he could turn and not have warriors at his back.

But a deep, panting voice—one of the Sentries that had trained with Aaryn and Reth at times—said quietly, "There's no shame in surrender when you are dominated, Aaryn. We take no joy in the winning of this. It was only a challenge for you to meet."

Aaryn blinked, his heart sinking as he turned again.

He was utterly surrounded. And his people were on the ground, some lying on their backs, others kneeling. All but two of them out of the fight, their chins and heads down, eyes on the dirt because they submitted.

There was little comfort in the fact that most of the Equines were down also—including Tobe. It didn't change the fact that Aaryn stood there, outmanned and outmaneuvered.

Aaryn blinked and wanted to growl as he realized…

The disformed had meet a challenge for dominance, and they had been defeated.