Alien Prince's Bride: Scifi Alien Romantic Triangle Romance Novel (19 page)

He looked as surprised as the first attacker had, but this one had it coming. The heavy sword fell with the hands, cutting a deep wound in the man’s shoulder, but Areon doubted he even felt it. Bleeding, the enemy slumped against the wall while Areon turned back to his first kill. Death would come to the second with no further aid.

Luck.

Few knew that the Raider Prince hated the word. Hated what it stood for and hated having his deeds credited to it. Luck
was for idiots, for those too weak to make their destinies with the strength of their own hands. Luck
was a useful tool once or twice, but not something you entrusted your life to.

The audience was gasping again, but this time for someone else. Violet was still screaming, but like before, it was directed at the Overlord.

With the cries of the dying man behind him, Areon walked slowly back to the champion with the green
calaya
strand. Now, at last, he could take a proper look at him.

The champion had been tall and powerfully built, which should have been a dead giveaway. The realization nagged at Areon like a broken tooth, impossible to ignore. In his careless manner, he’d nearly let a
calaya
champion sneak up on him. He’d noticed him before in the trials, quick and skilled, deadly and with a purpose – a worthy opponent on even ground but a death sentence if one were, say, helplessly on his back.

If Areon’s hands could have shaken, they would have. Death had stared him in the face and he’d nearly succumbed to it for his attitude. It had been his own hand that had stopped the champion, but it had been so close, so very close that it didn’t really count as skill. It had been an instinct to protect his throat, but it had been
luck
that the throat had been what the champion had been aiming at. If he had decided to pierce his heart or lungs, Areon knew he would have been dead.

The fact that the Overlord had added the maze itself to the list of potential killers was hardly noteworthy compared to that.

Or was it?

Areon spared the fallen champion one last look. In all his life, he’d hardly ever needed to make sure something was really dead. It irked him that he had to do so now. Turning away, he looked up at the dais to find the Overlord staring back with a malicious grin.

Very well. You wanted the Raider Prince, you’ll get the Raider Prince.

It was fair in a way, Areon thought. The Overlord had stated from the very beginning that no contestant should take the tournament as a game. It was a
calaya
tournament worthy of being taken seriously. And the host had tried really hard to teach him that lesson. So, in a way, it
was
fair.

Areon picked up the shield that he’d dropped when he stumbled. It was the first time he’d really fallen since the day he’d learned how to walk. It was not an experience he wished to repeat. The look on the Overlord’s face told him plenty of the foolishness of that wish.

The Raider Prince straightened himself, the smile gone from his face.

He’d given Reim a hard time for warning him about pissing off the Overlord. He’d reprimanded him for warning him about Grom too, but it seemed more relevant by the minute. Areon doubted luck would save him if a wall were to trip him while he was fighting the huge champion.

No, playtime was over. He looked at the dais again, but this time not at the Overlord. Violet had stopped fighting with his father, seeing it was futile. Now she stood there, eyes wide, gripping the ledge. The flash of purple in her hair reminded Areon why he was there. She too had warned him to take things seriously.

For her, he would.

The Overlord, however, obviously had other plans. The long pathways of the maze were not-too-subtly herding Areon somewhere and when he reached his intended destination, it became glaringly clear where that was. The Raider Prince watched with a smile that had nothing to do with amusement as the walls started to fall back. They revealed an area large enough to actually be suitable for fighting – a tiny arena in the middle of a great one. No less than seven champions stood waiting for him there. Not one of them showed any signs of hesitation or fear – clearly, these men had no problems with the Overlord’s authority.

Around him, the pathways were disappearing. One by one, the walls lined up to form a circle around them. The message was clear enough, unsubtle in that charming Overlord kind of way.

Three of them bore the
calaya
mark in their hair.

For some reason, they were still waiting. Areon walked forward, sword at the ready. He stopped a distance from them, unwilling to charge headfirst into their midst – even he wasn’t that suicidal.

In a moment, the cause of their hesitation became obvious. The ground opened up again, but this time it didn’t reveal walls, but blades, and not one of them near his opponents, of course.

The Raider Prince laughed.

If you keep this up, Overlord, you’ll have to give Violet’s hand to the maze.

The blades sprung to life, whirring. That’s when the champions charged.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

There were no words to describe how Violet felt when she saw Areon fall. The look of surprise on his face was the worst. In her terror, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. She had to suffer through every inch of the wall’s assault on the unsuspecting Areon, and when the
calaya
-marked champion jumped to deliver the deathblow, Violet’s heart stopped beating.

A full minute later, Irmela had to physically shake her out of her daze. Her mother looked concerned, but that concern wouldn’t be of much use should Areon be hacked to pieces by whatever else the Overlord had built into the maze.

Violet opened her mouth to give Irmela a piece of her mind, but her mother shook her head. Behind them, the Overlord didn’t even seem to notice their presence. Irmela put her finger on her lips and slowly took Violet aside.

“Mother...” Violet began.

“I know,” Irmela said. “I didn’t think it would be like this, I swear. From what he told me, he only meant to expose him. That was just as well. This...”

“You have to stop him.”

Her mother smiled sadly. “I don’t think I can. The Overlord would do much for me, but he wouldn’t stop this because I asked him to. It’s too late to back down on a whim. No, someone else needs to ask him.”

“But who? Mother, talk sense.”

“Think, Violet, please,” Irmela said, sighing. “He has the champions hacking each other to pieces. There might not be anybody left standing in the end. Can’t you imagine anyone who might object to that?”

In fact, Violet could. She started to leave in a hurry, but stopped and smiled at her mother for the first time in years. “Thank you.”

Irmela chuckled. “Go! Go before the Overlord manages to kill all your suitors. I love the man, but this tournament isn’t bringing out his reasonable side.”

Getting to her destination wasn’t easy. Violet had to stop every few seconds to check whether Areon was still drawing breath. So far, he seemed to be. Both of his attackers were dead, or at least one was, and the other was most surely dying. Violet could hear his death groans. It wasn’t a pleasant sound, but hadn’t the Raider Prince promised as much?

She came to the dais the
calayas
sat upon.

“Your lover is quite something,” Pearl said when she saw her.

Violet had plenty of snappy responses to that, but there were more pressing issues – quite literally. It seemed the Overlord was herding together a pack to fight Areon in the middle of the arena. Further away, smaller duels were taking place. Reim and Ronay did exactly as the Raider Prince had said they should. Whoever tried to kill them died by their hands, but those who walked by, they let pass.

Surprisingly, the only one who still hadn’t fought anyone was Grom. Although Violet doubted the Overlord’s plan to keep him for Areon went over anyone’s head. The great champion didn’t seem too pleased with that prospect, though. He walked around in his makeshift cage of walls, restless like an animal. He’d already tried the trick that had worked for him on the first day – jamming his weapon into the wall. But a club wasn’t a sword and it didn’t even make a mark on the metal. The Overlord hadn’t overlooked that detail, which meant that Grom’s only option was to wait.

Violet didn’t like it, didn’t like it one bit. Waiting made Grom angry and an angry Grom wasn’t someone she wanted to see Areon fight.

Not because she didn’t believe in him, but because she still had the double image in her head. However much she forced herself to believe that Areon really was the famous mercenary, it still seemed too ridiculous to comprehend.

“Halley,” she said, dragging her gaze away from Areon, who was now walking towards the trap the Overlord had set for him.

“Yes?” the girl asked.

She was watching the arena like a hawk. Violet thought of following her gaze to see who her heart belonged to, but didn’t. A
calaya
’s favorite was an intimate matter.

“I need to see your father.”

Halley looked at her, eyes wide. Pearl, her sister, was laughing. “I… I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Halley said. “If you’re thinking what I think you are.”

“I don’t think so either,” Violet admitted. “But this time the Overlord really is breaking the rules. Someone needs to call him out on it.”

“Yes,” Halley admitted. “But our father hates
the Overlord.”

“All the more reason for him to help.”

“Maybe,” Halley went on. “But need I remind you our father hates the Prince
more?”

Violet knew. Areon, no, the Prince, was very good at making powerful enemies. “No,” she said. “I guess I’m betting he wants to kill the Prince himself.”

Pearl stopped laughing when she realized Violet was being serious. She too looked serious now.

“When you put it like that,” she said. “It might actually work.”

***

Pearl and Halley sent for their father. In her heart, Violet wasn’t entirely sure if he would come. First of all, former champions didn’t answer to calls, and secondly, their wish was painfully obvious. But after a few minutes – which she spent watching Areon reach the smaller arena – he did show up.

Unlike the Overlord, he wasn’t known by a title. Sure, they’d tried to pin one on him for years, but Rumeon said that his given name was good enough. Everyone knew him by it and everyone knew who he was. His own name had given him that and there was pride in the fact.

That wasn’t the only difference between Rumeon and the Overlord. While Violet’s father was a towering warrior who relied on strength and power to win his battles, Rumeon was a clever one. He wasn’t as tall or as massively built, but he was still strong. The
calaya
strand stood out in his hair, light blue in the midst of his black hair falling to his shoulders. His eyes were piercing, poring out of in his narrow face, reminding her of a snake.

They gave him a bow befitting of his position and he nodded to acknowledge them.

He quickly cut to the point, as he usually did, “I have no objections to seeing that traitorous son of a bitch die.”

Violet’s temper thrashed and she was holding back the words that were pressing at her teeth. She had to bite her tongue to stay silent. She’d expected as much. The Raider Prince had had a few encounters with Rumeon and they hadn’t parted on pleasant terms.

“We’re not asking you to save him,” she said.

Rumeon gave her a quizzical look. “What are you asking of me then?”

“To give him a chance. To make the Overlord give them all a chance.”

“Why would I do that?”

“It would be fair,” Halley supported her.

Rumeon chuckled darkly. “We’ve tried to play fair with the Prince. I’m sure you’ve all heard how well that has turned out.”

“This is our tournament,” Violet said, forcing conviction into her voice. Sounds of fighting drifted into her ears from the arena, but she refused to look. “The Overlord is exceeding his rights. You know that. Help us. He’s turning it into a mockery of what it should be. You can deal with the Prince later. After you’re free from the promise to put all feuds aside for the tournaments.”

Rumeon considered that, so Violet made her final argument, “Besides, I’ve been saying this for awhile now – if he keeps this up, there won’t be seven survivors. There might not be one.”

The old champion nodded in agreement. “That much is true. Why do you think he’d listen to me?”

“I don’t know,” Violet admitted. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to convince him. It’s your daughters’ tournament too. That has to have some weight for him.”

In truth, the argument was more about Rumeon, but she left that unsaid. And like she’d predicted, Rumeon looked at Halley and Pearl, nodding slowly.

“Don’t think I’m doing this for you,” he said. “Your favorite better make a hasty exit after the tournament.”

With that, he stomped away, leaving the
calayas
alone on their podium again.

Violet didn’t know if she should breathe easier or not. The others seemed to share that sentiment.

“He’s right, you know,” Olive said quietly. “Even if the Prince lives, even if he
wins
. They’re not just going to let him walk away.”

“I know,” Violet said, her voice barely a whisper. “But it was all I could think of. I just feel so helpless.”

“We know,” Maige said. Violet believed her. It was an emotion they all shared.

A cry dragged her eyes back to the arena.

She’d wondered why the others had seemed so passive in taking part in the conversation. Now she understood that it was because the duel stage had finally turned into the carnage it usually was. In the small span of time that she’d been talking to Rumeon, the little arena in the middle had been colored crimson with blood. Three bodies lay on the ground but four still stood to face Areon.

As for Areon, the Raider Prince himself, Violet’s heart skipped a beat to see him limp.

He was backed against the walls, his shield had been discarded somewhere and the only thing now in his hands was the sword. It was peculiar that the remaining four didn’t seem keen on attacking him.