AN: Still waiting on my edit, but I'm impatient so, I posted anyway.
All mistakes of the grammatical nature are, of course, all my fault.
They usually are. And hopefully I'll update before too long. Honest.
Many thanks to Caelan for never letting me forget this story, despite
the fact that I've slowly been writing it for almost 2 1/2 years.
Also, malu, I'm not sure if the following constitutes "action" but,
what the hell, it was entertaining to write.
Beware, humor ahead.
Also, reviews make me happy.
**************** Akayla Bay: Chapter Twelve ********************
Akayla Bay cursed fluently, in several languages, as she ducked a stool
that came sailing through the smoky air in the bar to shatter against
the mud wall behind her. "Can we stay Kayla? Please Kayla, let us eat
food that we mustn't make ourselves… What harm can there be in resting
for a few hours?"
She cursed again as a table followed the chair, before diving behind the
dubious safety of the bar. "Bloody hell, I'm going to kill him,
troublesome Outsider."
The bartender was crouched behind the bar with her, a bottle of half full
of vodka in a white knuckled hand. He wet his lips, brown eyes showing
their whites in his fear. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at his smell,
stale alcohol and urine. Water may be precious in the desert but sand was
plentiful and this man could have done with a good scrubbing.
"Shouldn't you be helping your husba…"
"Husband?" the Medjai asked with false sweetness as her quick fingers
stole to the hilt of her sword in response to his almost articulated
question.
The bartender tried to back away as he shook his greasy head furiously.
"No sir, miss, I meant… what if they kill him?"
Akayla rolled her eyes and tossed obsidian curls over one indignant
shoulder. "Then I will spit upon his foolish grave." She stood up though,
leaving the bar between her and the brawl as her fingers stayed near her
weapons.
The stupid Englishman was in the middle of a fight that involved him and
seven very annoyed, but inebriated, locals. He was lucky they were as drunk
as they were, otherwise he would have been knocked unconscious by a piece of
furniture seconds in.
Kayla ducked a broom and didn't so much as flinch as it shattered what must
have been a terribly expensive mirror behind her. The bartender moaned
piteously at her feet. She ignored him and watched Alex O'Connell swing
bare fists and bloodied knuckles with the best of them, exasperated. Trust
him to find a fight she couldn't even participate in!
Never mind that her companion was fighting for her 'besmirched honor'.
Akayla was trained for little besides death, bar brawls were beneath her.
If she waded in, even to just knock heads about, she would probably kill
someone and then they would have the drunks AND the local law enforcement
after them as well.
Disgusted, she waited, impatient to be off. She was already tired of this
town, as small as it was, tired of being beneath ceilings and surrounded by
walls. Annoyed by the smells, and the lack of respect from the populace,
and most of all, annoyed with Alex O'Connell.
Speaking of Alex…
He shoved one of the drunks towards the bar. The man sprawled across the
counter and leered up at her with a blackened grin. Kayla rolled her eyes,
drew a dagger, and carefully knocked him unconscious with the end of her
handle.
Maybe she could knock some heads together after all, especially if
it got them out of this hellish town faster.
She cleared the bar with a graceful leap. Two gleaming knives already
in each deadly hand. Akayla made a terrifying picture, dressed in black robes,
ebony hair cascading down her back like waves, fierce tattoos stark, even
against her honey colored skin. Her sable eyes were murderous, though in
truth, most of that rage was directed at one particular nuisance.
Five men went down in the space of a heart beat, all knocked unconscious in
quick succession, leaving her face to face with the so called nuisance. Alex
gaped at her, blonde hair askew, one eye already blackening, his lip swelling.
Before he could say anything though, the last man, swaying behind him, had enough
presence of mind to lift the single remaining chair high, and bring it crashing
down on the Englishman's hard head.
Alex crumpled with a groan and Akayla, with a sigh, knocked the last drunkard out.
The bartender wailed with despair behind the bar and she rubbed her temples.
Things were so much easier in the desert, and definitely more sober.
******************************************************************************
Akayla had just finished tying Alex to his horse when the drunks and their more
threatening looking friends caught up with them. She watched the small mob head
towards them with murder clear in their eyes, and decided that she had had enough.
She made sure that the Englishman's mount's reins were tied firmly to her own
saddle before vaulting up onto her mare. The horse danced, obviously as eager to
leave the town as she, and flew like the wind when the Medjai warrior touched her
heels to the mare's eager flanks.
The odd traveling party had disappeared through the town gates and into the sunset
before the mob had managed to quite realized what their quarry was up to. None of
them had imagined that a woman, even a Medjai, would have managed so competently,
and so completely to outsmart them. The Outsider certainly hadn't had the same
presence of mind.
******************************************************************************
Alex groaned as he woke, his skull throbbing along with the rest of his battered
body. He felt a moment of sheer panic when he opened his eyes to a blanket of
perfect, rich darkness but, as his vision cleared he could see that the black was
adorned with the familiar ornamentation of stars.
Reassured, he managed to roll to his side, so that he was facing a small campfire.
"Kayla?" he croaked out in question as he watched the flames add a meager measure
of warmth to her glacial features as she crouched across from him.
She ignored him for a moment, then sighed and rose with a liquid grace that was a
unique mixture between warrior man, and seductive woman. She moved like silk,
even when her movements whispered of steel. She knelt beside him, looking annoyed,
though her calloused fingers were gentle as they brushed his swollen lip and
bruised eye.
"Foolish, foolish Englishman."
"What happened?"
Akayla rolled her eyes and rose to retrieve the mortar where she had ground up and
mixed a pungent paste. "Hold still," she commanded, velvet voice a low purr that
held no invitation but to absolute obedience. The gentle touch returned to apply
the paste to his 'battle' wounds. "We," she replied finally, "were chased out of
town."
Alex absorbed this news as he let her doctor him. Finally, cautiously, he
tentatively said, "I don't remember that part."
A rueful smile was drawn from her full lips. "I imagine not. You were unconscious
at the time."
He stared at her with a sinking suspicion. "Did you knock me out?"
"No," came the flat answer, "I let the idiots you were fighting do that for me."
The rueful smile stretched to a satisfied catlike grin.
Alex grimaced at the censure he sensed in her. "I shouldn't have defended your
honor?" She raised a dark brow. "Did you even understand what they asked you?"
he demanded in a sudden, albeit painful, rush.
She laughed, the sound remote, and ruffled the bleached hair that was golden in the
firelight. "The question 'Would you like some real men between your legs?' was
quite clear, yes. I would have handled the situation very nicely, without the
threat of a retaliating mob, thank you."
He flushed a vibrant red as he digested her rebuttal. "I apologize," he finally
said slowly, "I should have known better."
"Yes," was her clipped, accented reply.
"Am I forgiven?"
Akayla Bay regarded him steadily as she considered this last question. "Are you
in pain?"
Alex shifted and stifled a groan in reply. "Quite a bit of pain, truth be told."
The cat grin returned. "Good, then you are forgiven."
He chuckled as she moved back to her side of the fire, amused despite his pain.
The ghost of her touch soothed him as he restlessly slept. Akayla sighed one last
time as she wrinkled her nose and ate her own cooking for yet another night.
All mistakes of the grammatical nature are, of course, all my fault.
They usually are. And hopefully I'll update before too long. Honest.
Many thanks to Caelan for never letting me forget this story, despite
the fact that I've slowly been writing it for almost 2 1/2 years.
Also, malu, I'm not sure if the following constitutes "action" but,
what the hell, it was entertaining to write.
Beware, humor ahead.
Also, reviews make me happy.
**************** Akayla Bay: Chapter Twelve ********************
Akayla Bay cursed fluently, in several languages, as she ducked a stool
that came sailing through the smoky air in the bar to shatter against
the mud wall behind her. "Can we stay Kayla? Please Kayla, let us eat
food that we mustn't make ourselves… What harm can there be in resting
for a few hours?"
She cursed again as a table followed the chair, before diving behind the
dubious safety of the bar. "Bloody hell, I'm going to kill him,
troublesome Outsider."
The bartender was crouched behind the bar with her, a bottle of half full
of vodka in a white knuckled hand. He wet his lips, brown eyes showing
their whites in his fear. She wrinkled her nose in distaste at his smell,
stale alcohol and urine. Water may be precious in the desert but sand was
plentiful and this man could have done with a good scrubbing.
"Shouldn't you be helping your husba…"
"Husband?" the Medjai asked with false sweetness as her quick fingers
stole to the hilt of her sword in response to his almost articulated
question.
The bartender tried to back away as he shook his greasy head furiously.
"No sir, miss, I meant… what if they kill him?"
Akayla rolled her eyes and tossed obsidian curls over one indignant
shoulder. "Then I will spit upon his foolish grave." She stood up though,
leaving the bar between her and the brawl as her fingers stayed near her
weapons.
The stupid Englishman was in the middle of a fight that involved him and
seven very annoyed, but inebriated, locals. He was lucky they were as drunk
as they were, otherwise he would have been knocked unconscious by a piece of
furniture seconds in.
Kayla ducked a broom and didn't so much as flinch as it shattered what must
have been a terribly expensive mirror behind her. The bartender moaned
piteously at her feet. She ignored him and watched Alex O'Connell swing
bare fists and bloodied knuckles with the best of them, exasperated. Trust
him to find a fight she couldn't even participate in!
Never mind that her companion was fighting for her 'besmirched honor'.
Akayla was trained for little besides death, bar brawls were beneath her.
If she waded in, even to just knock heads about, she would probably kill
someone and then they would have the drunks AND the local law enforcement
after them as well.
Disgusted, she waited, impatient to be off. She was already tired of this
town, as small as it was, tired of being beneath ceilings and surrounded by
walls. Annoyed by the smells, and the lack of respect from the populace,
and most of all, annoyed with Alex O'Connell.
Speaking of Alex…
He shoved one of the drunks towards the bar. The man sprawled across the
counter and leered up at her with a blackened grin. Kayla rolled her eyes,
drew a dagger, and carefully knocked him unconscious with the end of her
handle.
Maybe she could knock some heads together after all, especially if
it got them out of this hellish town faster.
She cleared the bar with a graceful leap. Two gleaming knives already
in each deadly hand. Akayla made a terrifying picture, dressed in black robes,
ebony hair cascading down her back like waves, fierce tattoos stark, even
against her honey colored skin. Her sable eyes were murderous, though in
truth, most of that rage was directed at one particular nuisance.
Five men went down in the space of a heart beat, all knocked unconscious in
quick succession, leaving her face to face with the so called nuisance. Alex
gaped at her, blonde hair askew, one eye already blackening, his lip swelling.
Before he could say anything though, the last man, swaying behind him, had enough
presence of mind to lift the single remaining chair high, and bring it crashing
down on the Englishman's hard head.
Alex crumpled with a groan and Akayla, with a sigh, knocked the last drunkard out.
The bartender wailed with despair behind the bar and she rubbed her temples.
Things were so much easier in the desert, and definitely more sober.
******************************************************************************
Akayla had just finished tying Alex to his horse when the drunks and their more
threatening looking friends caught up with them. She watched the small mob head
towards them with murder clear in their eyes, and decided that she had had enough.
She made sure that the Englishman's mount's reins were tied firmly to her own
saddle before vaulting up onto her mare. The horse danced, obviously as eager to
leave the town as she, and flew like the wind when the Medjai warrior touched her
heels to the mare's eager flanks.
The odd traveling party had disappeared through the town gates and into the sunset
before the mob had managed to quite realized what their quarry was up to. None of
them had imagined that a woman, even a Medjai, would have managed so competently,
and so completely to outsmart them. The Outsider certainly hadn't had the same
presence of mind.
******************************************************************************
Alex groaned as he woke, his skull throbbing along with the rest of his battered
body. He felt a moment of sheer panic when he opened his eyes to a blanket of
perfect, rich darkness but, as his vision cleared he could see that the black was
adorned with the familiar ornamentation of stars.
Reassured, he managed to roll to his side, so that he was facing a small campfire.
"Kayla?" he croaked out in question as he watched the flames add a meager measure
of warmth to her glacial features as she crouched across from him.
She ignored him for a moment, then sighed and rose with a liquid grace that was a
unique mixture between warrior man, and seductive woman. She moved like silk,
even when her movements whispered of steel. She knelt beside him, looking annoyed,
though her calloused fingers were gentle as they brushed his swollen lip and
bruised eye.
"Foolish, foolish Englishman."
"What happened?"
Akayla rolled her eyes and rose to retrieve the mortar where she had ground up and
mixed a pungent paste. "Hold still," she commanded, velvet voice a low purr that
held no invitation but to absolute obedience. The gentle touch returned to apply
the paste to his 'battle' wounds. "We," she replied finally, "were chased out of
town."
Alex absorbed this news as he let her doctor him. Finally, cautiously, he
tentatively said, "I don't remember that part."
A rueful smile was drawn from her full lips. "I imagine not. You were unconscious
at the time."
He stared at her with a sinking suspicion. "Did you knock me out?"
"No," came the flat answer, "I let the idiots you were fighting do that for me."
The rueful smile stretched to a satisfied catlike grin.
Alex grimaced at the censure he sensed in her. "I shouldn't have defended your
honor?" She raised a dark brow. "Did you even understand what they asked you?"
he demanded in a sudden, albeit painful, rush.
She laughed, the sound remote, and ruffled the bleached hair that was golden in the
firelight. "The question 'Would you like some real men between your legs?' was
quite clear, yes. I would have handled the situation very nicely, without the
threat of a retaliating mob, thank you."
He flushed a vibrant red as he digested her rebuttal. "I apologize," he finally
said slowly, "I should have known better."
"Yes," was her clipped, accented reply.
"Am I forgiven?"
Akayla Bay regarded him steadily as she considered this last question. "Are you
in pain?"
Alex shifted and stifled a groan in reply. "Quite a bit of pain, truth be told."
The cat grin returned. "Good, then you are forgiven."
He chuckled as she moved back to her side of the fire, amused despite his pain.
The ghost of her touch soothed him as he restlessly slept. Akayla sighed one last
time as she wrinkled her nose and ate her own cooking for yet another night.