Chapter 10: Knives In The Dark!(18+)

Chapter 10: Chapter 10: Knives In The Dark!(18+)

The attack came two nights later, when the moon was a thin bone scrap and the valley lay under heavy cloud.

Korr woke to the soft scrape of hide on stone.

He was alone in Vara’s furs; she had risen earlier to speak with the night scouts.

The fire had burned down to embers.

The air still carried her scent berry oil, sweat, and sex.

For half a breath he thought the sound was only the wind moving the outer flap.

Then a shadow detached itself from the deeper dark near the entrance.

Korr rolled, grabbed the axe that always slept within reach, and came up on one knee as the first man lunged.

The attacker’s flint knife flashed.

Korr caught the wrist, twisted, and drove his forehead into the man’s face.

Cartilage crunched.

He slammed the axe haft into the attacker’s temple and the body went limp.

A second shape came fast from the side. This one was quieter, better.

The knife scored a shallow line across Korr’s upper arm before he could fully turn.

Pain flared.

He dropped his weight, hooked the man’s ankle, and brought him down hard. The axe rose and fell once.

Wet impact.

The second body stilled.

Silence returned, broken only by Korr’s breathing and the faint drip of blood onto stone.

He crouched, listening.

No more movement.

He checked the first attacker River paint under the dark grease that had blackened his skin for night work.

The second wore the same.

Not cave-born. Not Tribunal.

River knives, sent to cut the Matron’s favored gladiator while he slept.

Korr dragged both bodies to the entrance, blood trailing behind them, and stepped out into the cool night air.

A sentry further down the path saw him and raised a cry. Within moments torches flared. Warriors came running.

Vara arrived with Elka and Gron close behind, half-dressed, eyes hard.

She took in the bodies, the cut on Korr’s arm, the axe still in his hand, and the dark blood on his chest.

"River," she said. Not a question.

Korr nodded once. "Two.

They came for me while you were gone."

Elka’s gaze moved slowly over him, lingering on the fresh wound and the way the night air tightened his skin. "Bold.

Or desperate.

They risked the caves themselves to cut your throat."

Gron’s voice was low.

"Pride becomes cunning, as I said.

This is only the first testing of our walls."

Vara stepped close to Korr, ignoring the gathering crowd.

She touched the cut on his arm, fingers coming away red, then brought them to her mouth and tasted without hesitation.

Her eyes stayed locked on his.

"You live. That is what matters."

She turned to the nearest fighters.

"Burn the bodies at first light.

Double the night watch on every cave mouth and the eastern path.

No one sleeps alone until I say otherwise."

Her gaze cut to Elka. "Including you.

Post your own guards if you must, but the order stands for all."

Elka’s mouth curved.

"As the Matron commands."

The rest of the night passed in tense preparation.

Korr’s arm was cleaned and bound.

He refused to return to the furs alone; Vara did not ask him to.

They sat together near the rekindled fire while the cave mouth remained guarded by two trusted men.

Neither slept much.

At dawn the tribe gathered again, smaller this time, faces grim.

The two River corpses were dragged to the fire pits and burned while Vara spoke.

"They came in the dark like rats.

They died like rats.

The man they came to kill still stands.

Let the river hear that every knife they send will find the same end."

The tribe answered with a hard, unified shout.

Later, in the quieter hours of morning, Elka approached Korr near the water channel where he was washing the last traces of blood from his skin.

She carried no weapon in hand, but the look in her eyes was its own blade.

"You are harder to kill than they hoped," she said. "Good.

Dead men make poor allies."

Korr glanced at her.

"I already have an ally."

"You have a Matron who claims you in public and fucks you in private.

That is not the same as an ally who will stand when her own power is threatened." Elka stepped closer, voice dropping.

"Last night proved the river will not stop. When the larger force comes and it will Vara will need every strong arm.

Some of those arms may decide the price of their loyalty is a share of what she currently keeps for herself."

Her hand rose and traced the edge of the new bandage on his arm, light and deliberate.

"I am not offering only furs, Korr. I am offering a different path.

One where you are not simply the axe that belongs to one woman."

She let the touch linger a moment longer, then turned and walked away, leaving the scent of resin oil in the air.

Korr watched her go.

The cut on his arm throbbed.

The memory of the night knives was still sharp.

So was the memory of Vara tasting his blood and declaring him still hers in front of the entire tribe.

That afternoon the Tribunal met again, this time in open daylight on the high ledge so the tribe could see unity even if it was strained.

Gron spoke bluntly.

"The river has shown its hand. We answer with strength, not fear. Increase the scouting parties.

Prepare the fighting bands for a longer campaign if needed.

And keep the favored gladiator alive he has become a symbol.

Symbols draw both loyalty and blades."

Vara’s hand rested on Korr’s shoulder where he stood behind her seat.

"He remains under my protection and in my furs.

Any further attempts on his life will be answered in kind ten River throats for every drop of his blood."

Elka inclined her head, the picture of agreement, though her eyes said otherwise.

When the meeting ended and the tribe dispersed, Vara led Korr back to her chamber.

She closed the flap, turned, and pushed him against the stone wall. Her mouth found his, hungry and fierce.

She bit his lower lip hard enough to draw a fresh taste of blood, then dropped to her knees, untied his loincloth, and took him into her mouth with open possession.

Korr’s head fell back against the stone.

One hand settled in her silver-streaked hair. She worked him with the same focused intensity she brought to ruling tongue and lips and the wet heat of her throat until his control frayed.

When he tried to pull her up she only gripped his hips tighter and took him deeper.

He came with a low, rough sound, hips jerking, and she swallowed every pulse before rising to her feet again.

Her lips were wet.

Her eyes burned.

"Elka spoke to you again," she said.

"Yes."

"And still you are here."

"Yes."

Vara kissed him, sharing the taste of his own release, then guided him to the furs. She straddled him, sank down onto his still-sensitive cock, and began to move with slow, deliberate rolls of her hips.

"Then remember this when she offers again," she murmured.

"I do not share what I have claimed.

And I do not lose."