Thank you Lynrith…. Let's just say Lotor and Allura's relationship is evolving as they get older…and not entirely on romantic lines. They are both growing into the very uncomfortable roles of being responsible for their actions and how it affects them and everyone around them. By the end of the story, she ends up making decisions that will come back to haunt her.
The Arena
A Wyverin officer escorted Allura and her entourage to Lotor's box in the Royal Battle Arena of Veraktu. It was here that the contest for Emperor would be decided. Allura found herself uncomfortably seated next to Zarkon. He leaned over and gave her a smile that was all fangs and no warmth. She had remembered seeing pictures of Drule battle arenas in her school books. From the descriptions she thought they would be much larger, though she had to admit this one was impressive; down to the large screens that brought the bloodshed to the masses in high definition. Lotor's Royal Box was separated from the field by a small wall. One could smell the unmistakable odor of organic debris in the air. It was a bit too close for comfort and Allura wished she was seated far above with the general population.
Allura was frighteningly nervous; so much rode on the day's outcome. The screens were now displaying the gathered crowd; relishing the expressions on the nobles' faces as they sent their loved ones off to do battle and die. The cameras focused in on the looks of excitement and fear which punctuated the otherwise jubilant spectators. Finally, the camera settled on a box filled with guildsman of some rank. Allura could not help but stare at these beautiful people. Like silver dusted elves they sat there impassively; almost bored at the ruckus below. The camera fell upon one face in particular, making love to her every feature. The woman had seen her image on the screen and smiled back seductively, giving a slight toss to her copper colored hair. Zarkon watched Allura with interest. He had also heard rumors that she was the mistress of Tamrack. It was a hell of a way to meet the wife. Zarkon pointed a bony finger, relishing the moment.
"Her name is Tanal. She is the daughter of a minor house but her beauty has opened up many doors. In many ways, she reminds me of my Althea. Tanal is far more beautiful than my queen ever was, but Althea was far more sensual. I have never seen Tanal's icy façade melt and many men are put off by her. No one ever fought in the Arena to claim her as their own. And yet, here you sit seemingly unaware that the disgraced Prince of the Korrinoth does battle for the Arusian princess that has repeatedly rejected his affections. Well, what can I say, it is good for ratings." He sighed, not sure he wanted the attentions of the press. "You are in his box. The people will talk. You continue to shame my son." Allura did not know whether to take his statement as a compliment or a slur.
Allura took it for the latter.
"I can find another place to sit." Allura moved to get up, her small guard quickly standing." Zarkon grabbed her wrist to pull her down. He heard the click of safeties being removed from blasters and growled.
"If it makes you feel better, go ahead and tell them to point them at me." His hand made a general gesture to the crowd and asked Allura to look carefully. What did she see? Allura motioned her men to put their blasters down. Depending on the section, the seats were filled with Westerner, Drules and Wyverins. "My Lady, I have a bad feeling about this."
In all my years I have never seen more than a handful of guildsmen at an Arena event. They find this sort of stuff below them. It might wreck their fine clothes. Your Tamrack seems to be cut from a different cloth than his people. He has quite the following."
Zarkon sat back and ordered a bottle of wine. The waitress poured him a glass and then bowed. He encouraged Allura to drink telling her the competition would go much easier; knowing full well what her reaction would be. He was seven when his grandfather took him to his first Arena match. He remembered being whipped by one of his father's officers for vomiting. Allura shook her head. The fact that he was sharing a box with his mortal enemy, the woman that brought down his empire and his son, was making this moment all the more surreal by the moment.
"How does this work? Will we be seeing Lotor anytime soon?" Allura straightened herself. Zarkon shrugged.
"The lesser candidates will be carving each other up first. They like to save the talent for the end. It adds to the excitement. He is slated for much later so he might visit his box, or he may be brooding in the preparatory cells below." Zarkon shifted in his chair. Allura could tell that he was not as calm as he was pretending to be. "Knowing Lotor he is praying. He tends to do that before he goes into the Arena." Zarkon pursed his lips. Allura tried to imagine Lotor being reverent and began to laugh.
"What about this could a human find so amusing? Considering my son might die, I could use a good joke or two at this moment." Allura looked at him and threw her head back.
"Lotor praying. He does not take me as the religious type." Allura had a smug look on her face.
"You have a terrible intelligence agency." Zarkon gruffly answered.
Borak entered the box, and after bowing to both Zarkon and Allura, took his seat behind the monarchs. He gave Allura a smile. It had been several years since they had seen each other. She remembered Coran dictating the terms of the now useless treaty to the Drule who sat at the table conveying not an iota of emotion. The Drule, she remembered that helped her and Coran escape on the night that Zarkon killed her family. Sheonly learned later on that an innocent died in her place.
"Borak, the games have not begun. Perhaps, you may want to take Allura for a long walk on the grounds. You know how tiresome these early rounds can be." Zarkon looked at Allura. Your guard, of course, can accompany you." Allura was quite aware that Zarkon did not want her in the box whatever his reason.
"I would like that. Maybe we can find Lotor and wish him good luck." Allura politely responded.
"That is an excellent idea. Looking at the line up; he is going to need it." Zarkon said dejectedly.
Allura exited the box with the tall Drule. She had noticed his absence in the current discussions between her and the Drules, and wondered if Zarkon and his closest advisor had a falling out. Borak was Zarkon's Coran when it came to matters of diplomacy.
"My Queen, do not take offense. He is trying to guard you against the roughness of the Arena. Since I also have an aversion to it also I think he is trying to spare us both the barbarity of the sport. My King can be a generous man." Borak motioned her down a long spiral staircase, her stopping as the captain of the guard demanded to proceed in front of her. Borak rolled his eyes. Security was nothing these humans could provide their Queen. They were in the hornets nest.
"I have not seen you in the meetings with Lotor and Zarkon. It would have been nice to see a comforting face." Allura spoke as she managed the intricate stairway obviously designed for form over function.
"Lotor is not speaking to me. My presence would have been an irritant to him. I am here to support Zarkon if Lotor does not survive. I think it just might kill him this time." Borak shrugged as if it meant nothing, but Allura, ever astute to people's emotions saw that it was anything but. Lotor had often spoken of Borak more as if the man were a close relative rather than a servant.
"Was it the treaty? He can't expect you to be responsible for that. Those terms were dictated by the Galactic Alliance." Allura's voice was peppered with exasperation.
"Correction, Queen Allura, they were dictated by you, but the Alliance was hot and heavy to get their hands on your robot for their own purposes so they gave into your every whim and desire. But that is not the reason. I betrayed him, and in essence, betrayed the Crown of Korrinoth. I have dishonored myself and my family. I am lucky he lets me live." Borak spoke in a rapid patter Drule to the two Wyverin guards at the gate to where the claimants had entered.
"We may enter if we disarm ourselves." Borak stood in a vestibule. "Are you coming or shall we walk through the gardens until this morning's blood bath is over?"
"We should go." Allura could not help herself. Her curiosity was getting the best of her. Borak sighed and began to empty a small arsenal of weapons, at last, divesting himself of a lazon sword. Allura counted at least four blasters emerging from behind his cloaks. He turned when she let out a small gasp.
"Things could get ugly today if the wrong person wins." Borak stiffly answered.
"And who is the wrong person?" Allura nervously asked as her guards were being searched.
"Depends on your perspective." Borak said with a smile that was far more pleasant than Zarkon's. A Wyverin moved to touch Allura and Borak barked something back in Drule. Whistles and growls were enjoined but Borak saved Allura from a thorough frisking by the Wyverin officer.
They went through the winding halls of the battle arena's underbelly. In the background noise, Allura could hear men grunting, lazon humming, and to her surprise, an occasional chanting of prayers. Borak pointed out the priest and priestesses that seemed to be interlaced with the warlords; offering their blessings and their prayers of protection. The band of humans traipsing through the preparatory chambers elicited a few odd stares but most of the participants were too focused on their own predicament to give them too much notice. A few officials pointed Borak in the right direction.
Borak only hesitated once, and when he told the group to stay behind for a few minutes, Allura became slightly nervous when he disappeared for more than that. Upon his return, he told them to move quickly through a particular section and not to make any undue noise. When they exited he seemed relieved. It was only then that she learned that they went through an area that was reserved for Lord Vashru and his entourage.
Finally, they found Lotor, who was in the middle of a massage. Allura left the guards outside. He looked up and groaned in disappointment. His mood seemed sour. His hair had been carefully braided in the style of a Westerner warlord. The intricate beads carefully braided into place and falling into the small of his back. He was looking quite savage when they had entered. Allura was still trying to get the image of three women were vigorously kneading his naked form as he chased them away out of her head.
"I guess I missed the prayer service." Allura said as the way of an announcement.
"That was much earlier." Lotor sighed. "A priestess is scheduled to visit me in about an hour. She gets to hear my last testament. Since I have nothing to say, it will be rather short." Lotor jumped off the table causing Allura to quickly turn her eyes away. This time he was wearing nothing. Lotor laughed at her discomfort.
"Allura, I find it odd that since we have become allies you keep finding opportunities to catch me in a state of undress. If I did not know better I think you like to see me immodestly clothed." He started to put on the undergarments of his battle armor with a chuckle.
"We never finished our discussion last night. You did not tell me how you would protect Arus if you lay dead. I want you to withdraw from this travesty. Hazar has already done so this morning." Allura's tone was that between a schoolteacher and a mother.
"Hazar has just taken a wife. He has more to lose than I do." Lotor picked up his boot and carefully examined the articulated layers. He took out a small knife, sliding it up and down the overlaps, making sure they were impregnable.
"Marry me, and I will happily withdraw." A wry smile crossed his lips. "It is a reasonable request from a wife."
"Never, after all your family has done to my people….how could I ever even consider such an arrangement. My people are barely tolerating the presence of your men on Arus as is. The media already questions my authority to rule. Our union would be the final nail in the coffin." Allura's face flushed and her eyes defiant. Lotor did not help things by giving a deep laugh.
"Still holding out for Tamrack or maybe it is your fly boy that your heart hungers for? My father's agents tell me he has a woman." Allura glared. She knew that Lotor was talking about a general's daughter that Keith was now dating. It was no secret but she was surprised that his inquires, into her private life, went so deep.
"Either would still be preferable to you." She threw her head back defiantly.
"Nggh..a happily married man or one that is about to be. Perhaps it is best that you look for your own husband. I am sure Coran has one or two in mind for you." Lotor flashed a wicked gin as he continued. As much as he was pretending to be in a playful mood, his voice was bitter. She had seen these moods in him before, and knew that he could be unstable when they came around.
"Even as you send me into the Arena as your gladiator, knowing by the end of the day that I shall most likely be sliced to bits by Vashru, you still refuse me such a small thing because of what people will think. Humor me with a yes, just for today, even if it just for pretend. After all, think of all I suffered at your hands. I was called a traitor in my father's court because the Arusian Queen deemed it so. And that, my dear, was not even the worse of it. My people, even my most beloved servant and friend, turned his back on me and yet here I stand for them and for you. Borak, why do I even bother with any of you?" Perhaps it is better if I withdrew and just shore up my tiny part of the Universe. I have no desire for the imperial throne; I should let you all become Tamrack's concern." Lotor sighed. "If I die, my best suggestion is to find Lord Vashru and beg his bed. You will find even being a minor wife of an Imperial Emperor is better than having your people enslaved by him."
"Lotor…" Allura began but was quickly shut down in his flawless Arusian.
"As usual, the Arusian Queen has mercy for all but her most loyal of servants. Be silent, your words weary me. Perhaps it is best that you go and convince Lord Vashru that you will make an excellent wife to him. I am sure his ears with be receptive to your plea. Your people have no history with his so the match will be acceptable." He turned Allura around and even gave her a small push towards the door. "He is only about a hundred measures from here. He has even walked by my door several times today in an attempt to bait me and break the truce." She could tell he was in a foul mood, but out of principle alone she stood her ground. She would not be put aside so easily.
Lotor walked over to a small serving area and poured two drinks. He looked away from her.
"Borak, come and drink with me." Lotor motioned the man over. Borak hesitantly took the glass. Lotor lifted his glass. His voice was boisterous as if he was conducting some insane celebration.
"Raise a glass and toast my foolish judgment. I never even gave submission to Merok who bought me from slave traders, yet I offered it to you. Never did such an honorable man fall so low." Lotor clinked the glasses together. "Drink up, counselor. For once, you have outdone my father in your betrayals." Borak quickly downed the drink, his eyes cast to the floor. "Now, the air is cleared between us." Borak fell to his knees and bowed.
"Borak, I made the same mistake once and its shadow follows me to this day. In fact, it has taken a physical form and stalks my very doorways. I say, dear friend, we should scoff at the gods warnings. Bear your sin with your head held up high. Sometimes we need to sell our souls to survive. A lesson, Queen Allura, has yet to learn." He reached down and pulled the man up.
"Tell my father, I will be up to join him after the priestess comes." Lotor sighed.
"Shoshi, you do not have to do this. No one will think you are a coward." Borak's voice was gentle. Allura watched tears form in the man's eyes. She had never thought anyone could love Lotor, but the moment she witnessed spoke otherwise.
"Althea would." Lotor whispered into the ear of the tall, Drule who towered over him.
"Withdraw, I need to meditate. Remember, I am Lotor of Korrinoth, the sword of Lord Vashru will not touch me." Lotor threw back the mass of braids; the beads clinking into each other, and laughed so hard the guards peeked in.
"Yes, my Lord." Borak bowed and backed away toward the door. Allura thought to say something but the man shot her a look. Her captain of the guard seemed relieved when she rejoined them. Her men were a mess around the Wyverins that walked freely in the halls.
After they left, the old witch emerged from the shadows. She stood, in her dark robes, reminding him of some ancient sentinel of old. Her hand fell to his shoulder, and as usual, he flinched. When he was younger, she thought it was due to her looks, but after being around him for several weeks she now knew it was her. His men, mostly Wyverins, touched him freely and he gave no such reaction. She did not know why it hurt so much, after all, he was just a tool of the gods….but it did.
"I was crueler than I needed to be." Lotor's words drifted slowly into the air.
"That is the purpose of the potion. It will only heighten your anger as the day grows. It should be easy to call up the bloodlust." She walked around him twice as if appraising a piece of meat. He had seen that look before when she was picking out a robeast for his father's arena. Was that all he had become to her?
"I do not need a potion for that." Lotor said softly, so no one else but her could possibly hear.
"So the rumors are true? Perhaps you are the heir to the Wyverin Prince." She cackled.
"You have your doubts, witch." Lotor grimaces as her nails poked into his flesh. He lashed out and grabbed her fingers.
"You are quick like he was, that is for sure." She laughed. But can you singlehandedly kill a room full of Wyverins and live. He could. I saw him do that." Her voice hissed.
"I never had the opportunity." Lotor bit his lip.
"I did not suggest you look for it." She sighed. "Come now, and bear witness to the priestess Haggar."
Borak had already collected his mini arsenal when his comm buzzed. He looked down at it and sighed. Disgust was in his voice. "My Lady, Zarkon wants me to return. It seems that Lotor's friend Lord Tamrack has started to move along his tournament lines.
"So early, I thought they saved the best for last." Allura's eyes flew open.
"It is hard to rank a man who has never killed in an Arena before." Borak offered up. "Guildsmen are not known to settle disputes in this manner. They are more likely to seek financial retribution when wronged." Borak reconsidered is statement. I do not want to leave the impression that they are pacifists, quite the opposite. They are the first to fire over a trade dispute." Borak and Allura's entourage made their way through the crowds. The scene had changed to that of a circus. Allura took her seat. Below her, Tamrack was slicing through a young man as easily as a hot knife through butter. Allura turned away as the still standing body tottered before it fell. A roar went up through the crowd.
"That's three." Zarkon put up three clawed fingers and ordered another drink. "Your friend is doing quite well. Lotor said he would. A judge came out to examine the remains. A formality since there was no way the man could still be alive. A break was called.
"They will move to another tournament line up to give him a rest, but honestly he looks like he can go all day. They should hurry it up and double his competition." Zarkon's gravely voice boomed through the box.
"Are you that intent on speeding up the days events? I prefer to enjoy my last hours as long as possible." Lotor's voice answered right back. Allura rarely got to see him in battle armor and never so closely. His armor, in shades of black and silver, gleamed. His hair, though not to her liking, was tied back into a long ponytail and looked ominous. His braids kept tightly in place by a huge carved piece of black onyx. She wondered if all those beads tickled as they moved freely on the nape of his neck.
"Lotor, nice that you decided to join us." Zarkon bellowed back.
"Not for long father, my tournament round starts after the next round. There have already been several withdrawals after the blood started to flow." Lotor sighed. "It seems my first opponent is a young man whose father died in the Battle of Artros. Seems he only put in a claim to get a crack at killing me. I wonder if he is just the tip of the iceberg."
"You are that popular, huh?" Zarkon grunted.
"I have made a few enemies amongst he Western warlords." Lotor made the universal symbol for small with his gloved hand. "He is young and the last male in his family."
"Do not let sentimentality cloud your thoughts. A young blade can kill as easily as a seasoned one." Zarkon drank down another glass. Lotor was now speaking to his father in Korronite. She kicked herself for not trying to learn the difficult dialect as she was more than curious to what they were speaking about. Lotor had barely given her a glance since he entered the box. In actuality, he was ignoring her. Haggar's potions would have just left him with harsh words for her. Over the sound system, his name was finally called. He left the box without even saying good-bye. Allura took this for a good sign.
Allura could not help herself as she watched the screen below. There was a complicated ceremony before it all began. Zarkon explained the various parts as it went along. A priest came out and gave his blessing to the combatants. A man, in another set of elaborate robes, was the Arena commissioner. His judgments were final. Zarkon explained that even though it was usually a fight to the death, if the other person offered submission to his opponent the match was deemed over, that is, if his opponent accepted it. A whole slew of infractions could also get a combatant disqualified, but it rarely happened.
"How many people have offered submission today?" Allura asked.
"Two out of thirty." Zarkon said. "The other twenty eight were fools."
"Have you ever offered submission?" Allura asked. A dark shadow crossed over Zarkon's face.
"I only offered it once and it was an affair of the heart…it was duly rejected. I learned my lesson." Zarkon grimaced.
Lotor had the young man pinned in a minute. Zarkon was glad that he had not pranced around like a fool. His friend, Tamrack, had played to the crowd, which though entertaining, will eventually lead to a potentially fatal slip up.
"Allura looked away as Lotor lopped off the man's hair. He was obviously talking to the man, the mikes able to pick up parts of their conversation. He was asking the man to offer submission, that much was clear. The young man, fear in his face, seemed hesitant as Lotor's honeyed words desperately tried to persuade him. In the end, he relented. Except for a shorn ponytail and his pride, he left the Arena relatively unscathed.
His next opponent was a woman. The same offer was tendered. She rejected it and then spit in his face. With a scowl, he removed her head, the cauterization was not complete and her blood squirted all over his face, clothes and dripped in her hair. The crowd loved it when he cursed himself out for not having a clean cut. He sounded as if he were a swordmaster berating a first year student. Zarkon and Borak were beside themselves with laughter. The crowd roared in amusement but there was no merriment in Lotor's face over the win.
The third opponent in the match had some talent and it was five minutes before Lotor held his head up to the crowd. For a moment, he reveled in the roar of the masses. He was becoming a crowd favorite, not that it mattered much if he ended up dead but still he appreciated their encouragement. It had been an exciting match and the crowd was up on its feet chanting his name. Allura was shocked at the spectacle. Her people would have been abhorred at this display of carnage, while the Drules obviously celebrated it. Allura could take no more and rushed to the corner of the box. Borak walked over to join her, stroking her back, speaking to her in comforting tones.
Lotor, triumphant, walked off the field. The blood continued to flow. Allura sat facing away from the spectacle not knowing where to go but terrified to leave. Zarkon was correct. The crowd was getting more and more rowdy as the day progressed. Fist fights were breaking out and several persons, dead or injured, were carried out of the spectator stands. The worse was yet to come as the Wyverins had not even started their tournaments. That was what the crowd was really waiting for as no living Drule had seen them compete.
Lotor even made his way up to his box to see the show below. He must have taken a quick shower, because there was no trace of blood on him but she did notice a deep scratch on his face. He slipped into his chair, leaning over to talk to his father. He was obviously very familiar with all the candidates. He went down the roster with his father talking about these men. Some of them, he was obviously well acquainted with. Allura finally rejoined them.
"You really should not be here, Allura. Maybe it is best to hop back into your spaceship and go home." Lotor said; the hostility in his voice more than evident.
"I have a lot invested in the day's outcome." She replied back.
"Yes, I wager more than I do." Lotor stiffly answered. He had pointedly been ignoring her since she had entered. He was angry at her, that much she was certain of. Perhaps, he wanted her to throw herself on the ground prostrate and thank him for his participation in this madness. There was a hush in the crowd as the two Wyverin entered the field.
They circled each other, wings extended, fangs bared; both looking like demons from hell. It was faster than she thought possible. A flash of the sword, a rip of the claw across a jugular, and then, n a final blow, a knife plunged into the heart. Both of them lay twitching and dying on the field. Lotor yawned. The secondary knife was illegal, the candidate would be disqualified. The win went to the corpse lying on the ground.
"Bully for him." Lotor said with a chuckle. "I am sure his wives will be proud."
Zarkon was not as pleased. "Lotor, you should withdraw."
"Father, I have killed Wyverin before. They have their weaknesses." Lotor solemnly answered back. The humor in his voice had evaporated away.
"Does Lord Vashru?" Zarkon raised an eyebrow.
"No. There is only one time we came against each other and his men, in fear of their leader, pulled him away." Lotor softly said. "It was in the heat of battle."
"No explanation is needed." Zarkon replied.
"None was to be given." Lotor shot back angrily.
The Wyverin, unlike the Drules, had few candidates. Lord Vashru quickly dominated the field. Tamrack was moving up his lines as well as Lotor who was scanning a pad somehow trying to will the tournament lines to proceed in another direction. He had finished his third round, his mood turning more and sourer each time he had returned to the box. The sun was starting to set and lights had started to illuminate the Arena. Allura had spent the majority of the day facing the wall. Only turning when she was sure that Tamrack and Lotor had been successful; bracing herself for the carnage below. Three warlords had taken submission from Lotor now; none from Tamrack.
Upon his return to the box, she heard Lotor and Zarkon fighting. She spoke Drule but not Korrinoth. Finally, Zarkon, Lotor and his guard left the box for some time. Borak explained his absence. It seems Queen Merla was somewhere in the audience. This event, according to Borak, had attracted much attention among the remnants of the Ten Kingdoms. There were those who were hoping that the whole Imperium would be restored. Not all Drules, it seemed, were in favor of Hazar's Republic. There were some who longed for the Supremacy's return even if it was under the rule of a Western Emperor. Allura was shocked. It was the first time she had heard these rumors. The Galactic Alliance was under some false impressions regarding the state of affairs in the Republic.
"If I may ask, why are Zarkon and Lotor fighting?" Allura asked, whispering into Borak's ear.
"Zarkon is angry. He is thinks Lotor is spending too much time trying to convince his opponents to give submission rather than just cutting them down. In his words, it is a sword fight not a debating society." Borak shrugged. "I have to admit, it is not something you generally see in the Battle Arena. The press is going to have a field day with it tomorrow. I can see the headlines now, "Lotor the Merciful. It would make any self-respecting warlord cringe."
"There is nothing wrong with mercy." Allura bristled.
"Not when it costs so little to grant. When the price is high, it can devastate a soul or leave you dead in an Arena." Borak stared at her for a moment, lost in his thoughts.
The group soon returned. There spirits seemed jubilant. Allura wondered what back deals her past enemies had been cutting while they were away. Again, Lotor barely even registered her presence in the box making sure he sat far from her. Not that it should have mattered, but for some reason, she felt his presence would have been more comforting than Borak. The crowd was cheering as the two next contestants came on. Lotor, she noticed, took in a deep breath. The screens were focused on two things; a group of guildsmen surrounding the beautiful Tanal and the battle arena. Allura's head picked up. If the screens were on Tanal, Allura knew what this meant. Tamrack was up but this time, it was no longer Drules but Wyverins.
To the crowd's amazement, he survived the first two. Allura could not bear to watch the field, so instead she studied Lotor. He seemed calm during the first two fights, occasionally leaning over and whispering something to his father. It was when the third challenger came up that she saw his glove clench, and for a moment, the ice princess on camera, seemed to show a chink in her armor.
She finally brought herself to sit by Lotor. His amber colored eyes fell down upon her and his upper lip curled up in anger.
"I see you have taken an interest now that Tamrack is up." Lotor was not even trying to hide his contempt.
"I have shown the same interest in your success on the field." She countered back. "Can he take him?" Allura asked, her voice dripping with concern.
"No. Tamrack is as good as dead. I warned him." Lotor sighed. He was trying desperately to show that he did not care even though his heart was breaking. He did not take the loss of friends well.
"I do not think I can bear to watch. Lotor, stop it." Allura grasped into his arm.
"And how do you propose I do that? Tamrack seems very determined to kill himself." Lotor shrugged her off.
The match began. Lotor stood close to the wall as he watched his friend parry against the quicker and faster Wyverin. Each step Tamrack was forced back; Lotor felt the rage in him grow. In his mind, he was cursing each misstep the fool took as Vashru pushed him back. His heart beat increased and he felt the adrenaline course through his veins as he watched the Wyverin's strokes get more and more aggressive, cutting closer and closer to Tamrack. Tamrack's face darkened and for a moment Lotor was sure he was going to offer submission, but instead he cursed the dark demon lord that stood over him. And then, in a motion so quick that it hardly registered on the screen, Tamrack's arm was on the ground, the lazon sword still gripped in its hand. In a moment of self- preservation, Tamrack stumbled back, the flesh still letting off smoke. The Wyverin lord howled to the rising moons and started to slowly walk toward his now collapsed prey who had stopped screaming. Tamrack had got into shock as the Wyverin started his final approach. He never finished the kill.
Allura had been so fixated on the scene that she had failed to notice that Lotor was no longer in the box but had leapt the wall and managed to situate himself between Vashru and Tamrack. The screens were now focused on the encounter. It was the fight that they had all come to see and the crowd went ballistic. The Wyverin smiled, his elongated fangs, dripping with saliva.
"Well, cousin, it has been awhile since we last spoke." The Wyverin's deep baritone echoed into the field's wired mikes.
"His sword is mine. He withdraws." Lotor's eyes had changed to the color of a blood red sky. He could barely get the words out. The Wyverin turned to the cameras, to the crows and called out for all to listen.
"Citizens of the Empire, behold the abomination who vies for the throne. What does Drule law demand of you when confronted with such a creature? Look, he is afflicted with the bloodlust." The crowd murmured and some started to chant the word abomination.
"If I were an abomination, we would not be having this conversation." Every word was difficult to extract. His whole body ached to take out the creature before him. He looked down, not aware that he had drawn not one but both of his swords.
"Oh the bloodlust I could accept, but who wants a slave as their Emperor. Merok never freed you. You can remove the scar he gave your face; and the brand upon your forearm, but we all know you were his dog. A dog so loyal that he would betray a man he called brother." The Wyverin was careful to keep his ground. Nothing was more dangerous than a warlord afflicted with the bloodlust, even his people did the best to breed it out. In this state, he could just as easily kill ten men as one. The fact that he had not even made a move on Vashru was itself puzzling.
Lotor was shocked to see the commissioner scurry upon the field. It was then that he noticed that he was accompanied by a large contingent of guards.
"Is it true, has Tamrack of the Fifth House sworn submission to you." Lotor nodded. Even a simple yes alluded him.
"Did he ask your permission to participate in the competition?" The official looked at Lotor and with the greatest of effort Lotor forced the words out.
"I forbade him. Ask my Court, I cursed him out but I did not release him." Lotor's brain was on fire. The words were coarse and each of them burned his throat as he forced the air over his tongue and teeth. He did not want to talk. He wanted to kill. His target, the demon lord, was only feet from him.
"Tamrack of the Fifth House is withdrawn. Call the medics." The man snapped his clawed fingers and two Wyverin carried him off the field.
"You have violated the rules by entering the filed. Lotor of Veraktu you are hereby disqualified from the competition. Your wins are disqualified as well as the offers of submission tendered to you." The official's tone was terse. The crowd booed the official, most of them disappointed that that battle they had come to see would not occur.
"I accept the Commissioner's ruling without dispute." Sweat was pouring off Lotor as he bowed and made his way back into the underground labyrinth of the Arena, back to the room were he uselessly prepared for the day. His body ached. He vomited and then threw himself into a cold shower hoping the heat pouring off his body would dissipate. He had not felt this since the Battle of Veraktu when he earned the name the Blue Devil. He had burned tht day, burned so badly that even Vashru's men had pulled him away. How many had he killed that morning. At least 50 it was told but he did not remember a single one. The day's events played through his head. He had fought twelve naïve souls, nine he sent into the arms of the gods, including a woman. Through the mercy of Batak he had spared three. He could take some pleasure in that. As his blood cooled, his thoughts went to Tamrack. He wondered if is brother would even survive the blow. Losing his arm was the least of his problems; shock from a lazon sword was not the easiest malady to overcome.
"Damn that fool." Lotor said as he threw the boot into the wall, leaving a dent.
"Why ruin a perfectly good boot? It is not so easy to replace such craftsmanship." Lotor did not even have to look behind him. The voice always sent chills through his spine.
"How is Tamrack?" He turned around to see the serene Tanal staring back at him. Her green eyes, the color of emeralds, bore into him.
"I heard you were an excellent liar. What really impresses me is that you pulled it off under the influence of the bloodlust. Now that is rare indeed. My husband never offered any man submission. Yet, if he corrects you, then his head belongs to the Wyverin Vashru. Quite the move, in one sweep you have disarmed our future Emperor of half the firepower of the Guild. You really are something. I can see why he is so taken by you." Tanal sat in a chair and gave an odd smile.
"You have not answered my question." Lotor ignored her words. It was not his intention to lie, or even claim that any Guild House owed him loyalty, his only thoughts had been about saving Tamrack. The rest was incidental.
""He will recover. The blood loss was minimal and he has a strong heart. Perhaps all those years in the military served him well. He wants to talk to you and your princess before they move him to the main hospital. You know the competition is almost over. Several men withdrew and Vashru is just cutting through the last few Wyverins. No Drule has been left standing. He is not even taking a break. He will be Emperor at the end of the day." Tanal spoke in a matter of fact tone. She walked over to Lotor, taking his face into her hands and pulled his lips down for a kiss. His head was swimming when she released him.
"Do not say that Tanal of the Third House does not give thanks when it is deserved." She gave him a wink as she glided out that door. His brief moment of elation was ruined when her departure was soon followed by Allura.
"Where do we go from here? Lord Vashru is now the Emperor of the Western Territories. You practically handed him the crown." Allura's eyes were filled with tears.
"Would you have preferred Tamrack's death?" Lotor began calmly packing his sword up. The rest he would leave to a steward.
"Over the destruction of my world, yes." Allura said.
"Today, you were begging me to withdraw, now you yell at me because I did. Make up your minf." Lotor fumed as he rummaged through his bags. The steward had done an excellent job in arranging them, but Lotor was was a wreck and he was not paying attention as he rifled through them.
"I dd not realize the ramifications of Vashru's win until Borak spoke with me. It seems that this has altered the equation far more than the Galactic Alliance anticipated." Allura began to wring her hands.
"That is just beginning to dawn on you...in more ways than you think. Merok was a jurist, Vashru is a warlord. He will not stop." Lotor finally found the shirt he was looking for. Mentally exhausted, he slumped into a chair.
"If the survival of Arus is your highest priority, I suggest you march down the hall and wait for Lord Vashru in his chambers. I am sure he is in a celebratory mood, and since Romelle is on Pollux, I am sure you will make a suitable stand-in. In the right light, you two are almost interchangeable." He was waiting for the slap. She moved quickly but he was not in the mood to entertain this. He grabbed her hand and pulled her into him tightly. She felt his warm breath moving against her skin. A part of her contemplated calling her guards but that would only make him angrier. He loosened his hold on her. Tears were in his eyes; his voice trembled.
"Today, because of you, I went into an Arena. I killed nine people that I had no quarrel with and my shame was exposed to all. Did you not hear what he called me? I am an abomination, and yes, under the law, still a slave. Thank you, Allura, for reminding me what I really am. I showed mercy today and this is how Keturah rewarded me. Arus can burn for all I care."
"You always try to blame everything on me." Her voice was softer than a whisper.
"It is my royal prerogative to scapegoat. It is a family tradition. A thousand years ago, had you acquiesced to me, agreed to become my bride, none of this would have occurred. The war would have ended, you would not have fallen madly in love with a cad, I would not be battling an overgrown bat, and think of Romelle. Not even for Arus, will you share her fate. I gave up an Empire for a man I call brother and we do not share a drop of kinship. Tell me Allura, which is the nobler of species now." He was beyond tired. "Tamrack wants to see both of us. I wonder what his devious mind is planning?"
"He is in pain. He almost died today. Maybe he just wants to see the people he cares about it." Allura offered up.
"Nonsense, he is as high as a kite now. That is when he is at his best." Lotor finished putting on his clothes. Her eyes, this time did not turn away, and she saw the brand of which Vashru spoke. She touched it. He gently pulled her hand away.
"Why is it still there? You can have it easily removed." His eyes turned on her. Feral and cold, and for a moment he wondered what he should tell her. By law, it was not his right to remove an Imperial seal, even if Merok had cruelly burned it into his flesh.
"I kept it to remind me that the woman who refuses my affection made more than just my heart into a slave. Allura, let us go save your Arus." Lotor tucked his sword case under his arm. He shut off the lights in the room. He looked at the growing length of guards that followed him and Allura. All together, the Drule, the humans and the Wyverins made quite the parade. Lotor could not help it His deep baritone laughter filled the halls as they marched through Lord Vashru's territory causing his enemy's men to peak out of their cells.
"Tell your Lord, right now he may be the Emperor but he will never be the Wyverin Prince." Allura heard the air fill with growls, hisses and clicks but no one dare challenge them as they walked through the halls. And she swore, unless her eyes were deceiving her, that several had even made a small bow as he passed.
