Page 285 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

“No, Da’vi Ertague is coming with me, and so is the girl.

Insurance to make sure he does as I want.

The rest… leave them,” the General commanded.

Immediately, the first row of soldiers moved toward us, their rifle muzzles pointed at my chest, while the second row aimed at my friends.

I didn’t want them to fire on anyone—especially not on the kids—so I started to move forward, Arianna still clutched under my arm.

Better I keep her close to me as long as they let me.

He said she had to come; if I let her go, the soldiers would grab her.

Then Or’tal’s cultured tones cut through the noise of the soldiers moving and their demands for me to hurry.

“This should be settled in a Rite of Dispute,” he announced, turning so that he was speaking directly to the General, almost turning his back on me entirely.

“You want him to work for you, he refuses, this is outside of military rank. It becomes a Clan issue, and as such, it needs to be resolved in a Rite of Dispute, Sir.” He tagged on that “Sir” after a pause, almost as if he’d forgotten he was supposed to say it.

It was a clear insult, but not one Allignon could address, beautifully done.

A Rite of Dispute was such a simple solution that I could slap myself for not thinking of it.

I’d been too focused on the part where Allignon was my former commanding officer, and he wanted to draft me for the military.

But we were of the same Clan; we could solve our issue this way. It was an extremely beautiful solution.

“Yes, I issue a formal declaration of dispute. I refuse to work for the military or in any capacity for Mor’vi Allignon.

This can only be settled one way.” I made sure my voice carried as I made my declaration; this was a sacred kind of rite.

Every soldier in this room would respect this, they’d stand down, because this was now between me and the General, and no one else.

Allignon’s face twisted into an angry snarl, his eyes boring first into Or’tal for daring to defy him in such a manner.

There was no spinning this as anything but a stab in the back from the spymaster.

But, as one might expect from a guy like Or’tal, he appeared utterly unimpressed.

Maybe the spymaster had planned this all along—likely, even.

Maybe this was exactly what he wanted: to maneuver against Allignon and his ambitions.

“Fine, have it your way. Is there a suitable place to settle this dispute?” He spoke the last word as if it tasted sour in his mouth, and I started to grin, pointing out of the mess hall with a finger and taking pleasure in seeing all heads turn to follow my directions.

“Sure, we have a well-appointed gymnasium, right, brothers?” I said, displaying my teeth in an angry grin.

*

Arianna

I didn’t know what was happening when the soldiers started to leave and Da’vi began ushering me to follow them.

The gymnasium? Rite of Dispute? What was it?

Was this good for us or bad? “Please tell me what’s going on,” I whispered, my hand clutched tightly around the tip of his tail.

He had it wrapped around my hip, the tip nestled just below my belly button.

“I will fight Allignon in single combat. The winner of the fight is the winner of the dispute,” Da’vi responded.

His purple eyes twinkled with amusement, and I could understand why: he was almost a head taller than Allignon and much younger.

This wouldn’t be a balanced fight. Da’vi was going to trounce that bastard’s ass.

“Good! That’s good, right?” I dared to smile at him, even if it was a little shocking to discover that an advanced civilization settled their disputes with actual combat.

Then again, maybe that actually worked. Who was I to judge?

At this point, I still needed to learn so much about this new universe.

Akri had been answering all my questions, especially the ones about the many different species on the ship, which had been my first focus.

But we hadn’t really talked about culture yet, just physical differences and such.

It worried me that we still didn’t know what had happened to the AI.

Had the power surge destroyed him? That would be so sad.

“Very good. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.

Everything is going to be fine, my Sunshine.

When this is over, I am taking you to my quarters, and you aren’t leaving for days.

Got that?” The grin he shot me was so opposite of his normally grumpy face—so filled with mischief and sexual heat—that the muscles in my body relaxed.

The gym was a huge room, with tall ceilings, workout gear set up along one wall, and mats to spar on, laid out across the ground.

As the Kertinal soldiers in their black armor set up around the room, warily keeping their rifles in their arms, the Vagabond crew scattered around the mats.

I was relieved to notice that Tori and Aggy, with the kids, had stayed behind.

Noa wasn’t here either, but I saw the Doc come in with his medical kit at the ready.

Was it going to be a fight to the death?

It hadn’t sounded like that, but maybe they were going to fight until first blood.

A little nervous again, I clutched at Da’vi’s tail when he started to release me.

“Let go, Sunshine. I can’t fight this asshole with you hanging from my tail.

” The gentle amusement in that low rumble made me unclench my fingers from his appendage.

“Come on, stand with us,” Abigail said, reaching out to grab my hand as soon as Da’vi stepped away.

A soldier was between her and me so quickly that it seemed like he’d teleported.

A hand closed around my upper arm, holding me tightly, and I yanked.

“Let her go!” Abigail yelled. I heard the growl and even saw the stream of fire that came from her mate.

“What the fuck!?” Da’vi growled. I saw that he was standing a few feet away, his hands wrapped around the hilt of his giant sword.

He’d shrugged out of the top half of his clothing, his chest bared, all the muscles of his upper body pumped up.

He looked ready to charge the soldier holding me, only that soldier wasn’t alone.

His buddies had surrounded me, their rifles pointing out as if we were an extra dangerous hedgehog.

“Insurance, you understand,” the slimy General said with a shrug. He, too, had taken off his upper clothing, and I was shocked to discover that he looked brawny and strong, even if his middle looked a bit soft. He was accepting two curved swords from an open case a soldier was holding out to him.

Da’vi spun to face the General, chest heaving as he growled, “You would dare to imply I’d fight dishonorably? You are the one without honor, coming here on our ship, threatening our freedom when we are no enemies of the Empire. We even helped it more than once, ask your spy.”

The General’s maroon eyes flashed to mine, a grin curling his lips.

“Oh, I know all about your honor, Ertague. It’s theirs I’m concerned about.

” He waved his hand over the assembled crowd of gladiators.

If not for the many rifles and the easily three times as many soldiers gathered here, I was pretty sure those gladiators would have liked to start fighting.

I’d never seen so many angry, grim faces together.

Always-cheerful Jakar was a thundercloud, his four arms bulging with muscle as he clenched his fists.

Ziame had puffed up all his blades—from the top of his skull to the tip of his tail—with smoke curling from his nostrils.

Allignon was crazy to taunt these men like that; without those guns, he’d be minced meat at this point.

“One more thing,” Allignon said as he swished his weapons through the air, carefully testing their balance with practiced moves. “You need to take off those metal gloves. No cheating, Da’vi. Unfair advantage, I’m sure they give you extra strength.”

I gasped, and I wasn’t the only one. Da’vi had told me how badly hurt his hands were beneath the metal—about the nerve damage.

Could he even hold a sword without the prosthetics?

I didn’t think he could. This should have been a sure win; now I was terrified.

“That’s not fair at all!” I yelled, my eyes searching out the green Kertinal who had suggested this damn fight. Was he on our side or not?

Or’tal’s eyes met mine, and while I couldn’t read any expression in them from across the room, the minute shake of his head told me everything.

He couldn’t stop it—Allignon was going to get away with demanding such an unfair thing.

At least I could tell that his soldiers didn’t like it much either; they were shuffling on their feet, sharing looks. This was cowardly, and they knew it.

“Enough, take them off, Ertague,” Allignon demanded impatiently. Da’vi pulled a deep breath into his lungs and tossed the heavy two-handed blade he’d been holding to Thorin, who caught it. Then he started taking off the segmented metal gauntlets that fit over his damaged hands like a second skin.

There were portions missing from some of his fingers, his skin warped and almost melted-looking in places.

They were reddish, even pink, with a few straggling lines of purple crossing the tops of his palms. Those did not look like hands he could use to hold a weapon—or much of anything.

On the insides of his wrists, small ports made it clear that that was where the prosthetics tapped into his real nervous system.