They did this to me! And they’re going to pay . . .
An axe in one hand, a shield in the other, Alerio battled the hulking cohort leader who’d attacked him when he’d stepped from the sled. The big priest carried a two-handed quantum sword that chimed like an ancient church bell. The weapon was fully as long as the Xeran was tall, but the bastard knew how to use the awkward blade. The hornhead whirled the enormous sword in blurring figure eights, blocking Alerio’s axe swings between attempts to decapitate him. Alerio leaped back, blocking the hornhead’s latest swing with a thrust of his shield. He felt the impact in his back teeth; if the shield hadn’t been made of the same quantum steel as the blades, it would have been hacked in two. “Arrrrgh!” the Victor howled, the rooftop shaking under his big gold feet as he fell out of the sky. Alerio instinctively jumped back just as the giant hit his own priest in the side of the head. The man’s skull exploded like a melon blasted with a shard pistol. As the Xeran fell, the Victor leaped over his corpse, huge hands reaching for Alerio, eyes bulging, black as deep space and flecked with stars. His mouth gaped in a silent shriek of madness.
Oh, fuck, the chief thought. That doesn’t look good at all . . .
Something naked and golden hurtled through Dona’s peripheral vision, but she didn’t dare take her attention off the monk she fought. The wiry bastard had a cat’s speed and a sword longer than she was tall.
Thank the gods for sensors; she could ask her neurocomp. What the seven hells was that?
The Victor just killed a priest. He’s attacking Chief Dyami.
A hideous male scream rang out, sounding as if someone were being gutted. Before Dona could whirl to defend Alerio, the monk she was fighting shouted, “No, Most Glorious! He’s one of us!”
Instantly Dona swung her axe, severing her distracted foe’s head. It spun away, spraying blood across her helmet visor as his body crumpled. His quantum sword struck the rooftop with a high, pealing note. She glanced around to check for nearby attackers. Her immediate surroundings were clear, so she slid her axe into the armored sheath designed to hold it across her back.
She bent and snatched up the monk’s enormous sword. If she intended to help Alerio fight the Victor, she’d need the longest weapon she could get her hands on. The giant had too much reach otherwise.
Leaping into a run, she headed for the Victor, now stalking Alerio. The giant swung his own quantum sword in figure-eight swings that flashed in the harsh sunlight.
Alerio retreated, blocking his enemy’s pounding blows with his shield and a speed born of riaat. Despite his three-meter height, the Victor was unbelievably fast. He must have been equally strong, because every blow of his sword drove the Warlord back.
Dona broke step, studying the pair. For all his terrifying power, there was no control, no strategy to the Victor’s attacks. His swings left him wide open, but Alerio couldn’t take advantage of his wild assault because the giant’s reach was so damned long. The Warlord simply couldn’t get close enough to hit him.
She swallowed as fear clamped needle claws into her stomach. Though riaat multiplied Alerio’s strength, she knew the effect was only temporary. A Warlord could maintain the berserker state no longer than a half hour before he collapsed from a lethal combination of overheating and exhaustion.
How long has Alerio been in riaat? Dona demanded.
Eight-point-three minutes, the neurocomp replied. But the run through the desert drained his reserves. I estimate he has no more than six-point-four minutes before he suffers system collapse as his body overheats. There is a ninety-six percent chance the Victor will kill him the moment he goes down.
Screw that, Dona thought. That golden son of a bitch is not killing Alerio Dyami. I’ll gut him first.
There is only a fifteen percent chance you will succeed.
Shut the fuck up. Eyes narrow, teeth clenched, Dona focused on the two fighters and waited for her chance.
Maybe she didn’t have the chief’s berserker strength. Maybe she lacked his height and muscle. She was going to find a way to save him anyway . . . assuming he didn’t find a way to save himself.
Either way, the man she loved wasn’t going to die today.
If I don’t wrap this up in six minutes, I’m completely screwed, Alerio thought grimly.
Normally, six minutes was an eternity in a fight like this. Even gene-gineered warriors could burn through their reserves with deadly speed in all-out battle. The priests and Enforcers around him had visibly slowed from the speed of minutes before.
All but the Victor. That fucker seemed just as deadly as he’d been to begin with.
Alerio ducked a swing of the giant’s sword and threw himself into a rolling dive. Slamming to a halt, he leaped up and swung his axe in a vicious diagonal arc. His blade hit the Victor’s naked golden flank . . .
And bounced off in a shower of sparks.
Fuck, Alerio thought, flinging himself clear. He felt the wind of the Victor’s sword as the Xeran giant tried to cut him in two.
Hitting the ground, he rolled neatly to his feet—just in time to see the Victor turn on Dona and swing. Alerio’s heart stopped in his chest, but Dona moved to parry with the instantaneous skill of a trained duelist, swinging her own enormously long weapon into position. He instantly realized what was about to happen.
“No!” Alerio shouted, leaping toward her, trying to get between her and the Victor. “He’s too damned strong!”
As he’d feared, the Victor’s sword met hers, the blades chiming as the giant angled his weapon and sliced across Dona’s slim back. She made no sound, but Alerio sensed the spill of blood down her back. The Victor had sliced right through her T-suit.
With a roar, Alerio rammed the toes of his right boot against the Victor’s knee, forcing the giant to stumble into a monk trying to off Frieka. Snarling, the Victor whirled and cut the Xeran in two.
Someone roared a Xeran protest, but the Victor was already charging Dona again.
“Stay out of this, dammit!” Alerio snapped at her as he threw himself into the giant’s path. “And that’s an order!” Shouldering her backward, he rammed his shield into the Victor’s swinging sword, deflecting it.
The giant was out of reach for an axe-swing—curse those endless arms—so Alerio ran at him, shield held high to protect his head. The Victor bellowed.
Enforcer Astryr is circling, seeking an avenue of attack, Alerio’s comp observed.
Of course she is. Just because I gave her a fucking order, that doesn’t mean she’ll obey it. “I told you to get back, Astryr!” he shouted, blocking the relentless blows. “Unless you want to spend the next month mucking out the Outpost stables!”
“A little horseshit never hurt any—” Dona broke off with a startled cry.
Thrusting his shield to meet the Victor’s weapon yet again, Alerio dared a quick glance back at her.
Ivar had Dona pinned flat on her back while trying to shatter her helmet faceplate with repeated blows of his fist. She bucked and cursed as he hammered the plastium visor.
Alerio whirled, but before he could intervene, the Victor’s fist slammed into the side of his head. The impact batted him through the air like a spiked grav-ball. He tumbled across the roof and hit the parapet wall so hard he saw stars.