Green Eyes

It had taken Jared three seconds to figure out what was going on when he woke up. He was sitting alone in a wooden cell that was guarded by four women. Somehow he and Mara had been ambushed by the Amazons, a fact that was galling to him. Him, a War Master, had been outplayed by group of amateurs.

These things happened, he reminded himself. No matter how talented or skilled you were, you could still be surprised. He was alive and so, probably, were the others and that was something. At the moment, how he had gotten into this predicament was irrelevant. What mattered was how he was going to get out.

Jared was wondering if it would be better to try and pick the lock or just simply attempt to smash through the wood when another half dozen Amazons showed up, all armed. Their leader, an Anorian judging by her dark skin, took a ring of keys from her belt and unlocked his cell door.

“You’re to come with us,” she announced dryly.

Briefly Jared considered whether or not to attack now. Ultimately he decided against it. He didn’t know where the others were or what was happening with them. Besides he was still alive, which meant they weren’t planning on killing him. Probably. Still it would be best to play along for now.

He was escorted by the warrior women through a strange camp or settlement. It was multilayered with most of it being built into the trees themselves. Every now and then, he would see a female face look down on him from one of the platforms with pure hatred and disdain.

After a couple minutes they came to where a large crowd had gathered around an oval ring. As the escort drew near, the crowd parted and Jared was lead into the ring itself.

“Here,” the Anorian curtly said as she handed Jared his sword and belt before disappearing into the crowd.

Suspiciously Jared strapped his weapon on as he scanned the crowd. This was odd. There were roughly 40-50 women packed tightly around the ring as if they were spectators at a game. Mara and Selene he spotted to his left. The latter looked nervous while the former looked perfectly calm. Whether that was a good thing or not, Jared couldn’t quite tell until she gave him a subtle nod. She was up to something.

“Kalashonian,” a cool, commanding, and feminine voice called to him.

Jared turned to see a small, albeit gorgeous, woman with platinum hair standing on the far side of the ring, a sword strapped to her left hip and glaring at him with amethyst eyes.

“Kalashonian, your friends are eager to see you die,” she mocked. “Prepare to defend yourself.”

“Are you challenging me to a duel?” Jared questioned suppressing a laugh. “Perhaps some other time, princess. But I have better things to do with my time than humor you.” Jared turned on his heel and started towards the exit of the ring.

“Get the fuck back here, asshole,” Sarah’s voice cracked like a whip.

Jared paused but didn’t turn around. Instead he straightened up and dropped the mercenary’s cloak.

“Such language is not proper for a princess,” he responded casually. “Wouldn’t you agree, Micaela, Princess of the Esthorian Empire?”

For a moment it was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop on the gravel. Then 50 women began whispering excitedly among themselves.

“A bold claim Kalashonian,” his opponent subtly challenged.

“Hardly,” Jared scoffed. “How many violet-eyed Esthorians are there? The real question is why you bothered to hide your identity at all.”

“For a man and Kalashonian, I commend you on showing a modicum of intelligence,” Micaela acknowledged. “It won’t change the fact that I’m going to kill you.”

“A brave sentiment princess, but a foolish one,” Jared replied. “Lucky for you, I have no desire to end Beth Esther today.” Again he started for the edge of the ring. Almost immediately a dozen spears were leveled at him.

“You will fight today, Kalashonian,” snarled Micaela angrily. “Either you fight me or you fight them.”

Jared finally turned back to face her. “As you wish, princess,” he stated voice glacial as he strode towards her.

Micaela drew her blade and dropped into a Form II stance, muscles tensing as she waited for her opponent to get ready. Jared, however, did nothing. He stood ten feet from her, arms crossed, challenging her with his silence.

“Draw your sword,” Micaela demanded.

“Make me,” Jared retorted.

Jared could read the absolute fury in Micaela’s eyes as she raced towards him, sword held high. She swung her blade down in the anticipated overhand attack. Calmly Jared pivoted around on his right foot, bringing himself about 180 degrees so that he was directly behind Micaela. Overextended as she was, all he had to do was give her a firm shove with his boot to send her sprawling.

Her sword flew out of her hand as the Esthorian princess faceplanted in the unforgiving gravel. Rolling on to her back, Micaela began scooting away as Jared began stalking towards her like a tiger ready to take down his wounded prey.

Micaela reached into her boot, pulling out a dagger. From the ground she swung wildly at Jared, trying at the very least to wound him while she continued to back away. Jared dodged the first swing before catching her wrist with his left boot. Then he mercilessly drove the wrist down on a large rock.

There was a resounding crack as the forearm was snapped like a dry twig. The princess automatically shrieked in pain as she let the knife fall from her limp hand.

Kneeling down beside her, Jared brought Micaela back to the world as he picked up her dagger and appraised it in his hand. Gripping the hilt, he raised the blade up and locked his sapphire eyes on her amethyst ones. The unbridled hate and anger he had seen just moments before was now completely replaced by terror.

“I could kill you right now,” he whispered in her ear. Micaela just mutely nodded, eyes fixed on the weapon poised over her head. Swiftly Jared brought the dagger down.

Micaela yelped as the blade missed her face and embedded itself in the ground a half inch from her cheek.

“But I won’t,” Jared added quietly and stormed out of the ring.

No one dared stop him this time.