Hot Blooded Episode 1: The Prodigal Prince (Supernatural Thriller Series) (6 page)

Kilar lifted his head, though it was hard for him to do so.  He felt his whole body wearing out.  He grinned up at Takar, the muscles on the back of his neck straining.  “You’re one to talk.  Do you even know the name of the guy I just killed?”

Takar smashed Kilar into the ground.  The sand didn’t do much to cushion the blow.  Broken rocks jutted against Kilar’s body, some piercing through his skin.  Kilar gave an involuntary cry as the pierced wounds cauterized.  Takar let go of Kilar with his hand, then stood upright.  He brought his right foot forward, squashing Kilar against the sand and broken rocks.   

“Someone’s touchy today,” Kilar said, his voice muffled against the ground.  He winced, fighting back the crushing pain of his brother’s weight.  He scraped his arms against the ground, bringing one hand at a time to rest underneath his body.  Drawing in as much breath as he could, he attempted to push himself off the ground.  His arms shook, the muscles tearing within. 

“Nice try, but I’ve got you beat this time,” Takar said.  He bent forward, pressing his right hand against his right foot, magnifying the pressure.

The intensity became too much for Kilar, and the bones in his arms snapped.  He howled as the bones burned to their very core, the magma inside of him unwilling to let him take on the slightest injury.  The bones set at once, which doubled his pain as Takar’s pressure continued to increase. 

Then, release.  Takar’s pressure was no more.  Kilar held his breath for a long moment.  His mouth opened, the sand he inhaled falling out of it.  “What the hell?  Am I unconscious?  Wait, I couldn’t ask that if I was unconscious...could I?”  Kilar made his way to his feet, standing upright at last.  He felt as light as the first feathers on a baby bird.   His euphoria was short-lived, as Takar’s screams tore through his thoughts. 

Blood spurted down Takar’s face.  He stamped his feet as he wailed.  Kilar jumped onto Takar’s right foot to avoid being trampled by his brother’s rampage.  He gripped Takar’s ankle with both arms and legs as Takar thrashed his body, decimating the trees that got in his way.  Kilar jumped off of Takar’s ankle and landed by Akna.  “What happened?” he asked her.  But he soon understood.

Akna squatted in front of a boulder larger than her own body, stretching her arms to reach each side.  Gritting her teeth, she stood upright as she pulled the rock from the earth, hoisting it over her head.  She sprung up into the air, hurling the second boulder at Takar’s face.  Instead of hitting his eye again, the boulder smashed against his hand, which covered his eye and forehead.  The blow knocked Takar off his feet, sending him crashing down against the edge of the grove.  Kilar’s mouth dropped open.

“Prince Takar!  Say something!”  The soldier shook Takar’s shoulder, gasping when he felt the body go limp.  Relief overtook him as Takar began to wheeze. 

Takar hacked out drops of blood the size of a human head as the soldier brought him to his feet, wrapping Takar’s arm around his shoulder. 

Takar grunted into the soldier’s back, awakening.  His vision was cloudy, and his head throbbed.  The air was murky, and he realized that he could only see out of one eye as his vision became clearer.  He knew that someone was speaking, but the sound seemed to travel through honey to get to him.  His head started up on reflex as he grasped the meaning of one word: “Retreat.”

“No,” he thought.  How he longed to return to the battlefield.  His brother’s smirking face danced in his thoughts, beating in the notion of failure with every step.  The feeling of bones breaking under his foot seemed to be a memory from another world.  Then there were the humans.  Humiliated by his brother was one thing, but this was a new low.  Facing the royal court now seemed an impossible task.  His stomach lurched.  “And what will she say?”

“Stand back and give him some air!  Can you hear me, your highness?”

Takar groaned, opening his left eye in a squint.  He took in his surroundings and realized that his semi-conscious state lasted longer than he thought.  Only his general and a foot soldier stood at his bedside.  Their location was the inn in which he and his soldiers lodged the night before in a small town just outside the capital city.  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw half a dozen human slaves carrying a large bowl full of warm water. 

Takar felt the rage inside of him coming to a boil once more.  “Get those vermin out of my sight,” he said.  Startled, they came close to dropping the bowl, sloshing the water inside.  Setting it down, they left the room, taking only the smallest amount of time to bow to the giants beforehand.   His second-in-command picked up the washcloth inside the basin. 

“I’m glad you’ve regained your senses, your highness,” said the general, putting the warm washcloth on Takar’s forehead.  “There’s a doctor on the way.”

Takar put his hand to his head, but this did little to alleviate the throbbing.  It worried him that he couldn’t open his right eye.  “You imbeciles.  You should have stayed and finished them off.”  He narrowed his left eye.  “I’m going to hold you responsible for this humiliating retreat, General Malenka.”

Malenka chuckled.  “I thought you might say that.  But you know me.  I always like to have a little insurance on hand.  That’s why I made sure to bring you this handsome gift.  I hope you’ll take it in exchange for my life.”

The general snapped his fingers.  The soldier brought forth the Head Chief Naslen, secured between his two gigantic hands.  Naslen’s chin rested in his left hand.  He raised his right eyebrow at Takar.  “How you doing, sonny?”

Takar’s eye widened.  “You caught Naslen?  But...but how?”

Malenka laughed.  “It was almost too easy.  He was on his own, of course, and no match for our combined forces.  The others didn’t even notice.  I can’t believe he was once as great as you said.  He hardly even put up a fight, and even sliced his own arm with his knife on accident.”

Takar frowned.  “What?”  He looked at Naslen.  The cut on Naslen’s stump was long, but not too deep.  Naslen picked at the wound with his good hand until drops of blood seeped through.  He flicked the drops onto the floor, smiling at Takar as he did so.  Takar’s blood went cold.  “He left a trail.  We have to get out of here right now.  Wait, we can’t go to the palace yet.  Not like this.  Head for the capital, there’s bound to be a doctor there.  And bandage his arm, for Rekanii’s sake.”

Naslen sighed.  “I can try all I like, but there’s no escaping that woman.”

Takar smirked, sitting up in his bed.  He complied with Malenka’s foot soldier as he dressed Takar in a linen robe that covered his princely ornaments.  “That’s right.  In fact, Queen Enlaita will be most pleased to see you after all this time.  I’m sure she has much unfinished business she wishes to take care of.”

Naslen rested his chin in his left hand once again.  “I was talking about my daughter.”

Takar’s smile widened into a grin.  “Is that so?  Then I’m looking forward to it.  After all, we can’t have the wedding without the bride.”

To Be Continued

Stay tuned for Episode 2 of the
Hot Blooded
series:
Curse of the Volcano God
.

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