Red Sands: Warlords of Atera Page 3

  Sheri exchanged a look with Kalinda and raised her eyebrows. “You want to take a shot at the door?”

  Kalinda blushed, attention falling to her feet as she brushed a strand of honey blonde hair behind her ear. “I can try.”

  Except Kalinda did more than try. A few screws, a jury-rigged screw driver, and a whispered prayer or two later, the woman had the door unlocked. They both leaned against the solid metal panel and pushed, using their weight and strength to force it aside. It fought against them, but eventually they managed to open it enough to see outside.

  Outside at the alien landscape. Miles of sand, the sparkling white glistening in the bright sunlight. Make that plural—suns. Two suns hung just over the horizon.

  “Wow,” Kalinda whispered. “It’s almost pretty.”

  “Almost.” Sheri licked her lips, her skin already becoming parched by the planet’s intense, dry heat. “But who knows if there’s anyone—anything—alive out there.”

  Chapter Three

  Drazan rode toward the dark, smoldering shape in the distance. His ceaq traversed the pale grains of the Heart Sands with ease. The beast’s six legs and large feet ate up the distance between their camp and the strange midnight block that absorbed the suns’ light.

  Wind picked up, a gust sending Heart Sands into the air to pummel his scales, and the ceaq grunted with the attack though its thick fur shielded it from most of the stinging grains. He leaned down and thumped the ceaq’s thick hide, soothing its unease. The closer they drew to the strange shape, the greater the scent in the air changed—any hint of machinery was odd to the beasts of the Heart Sands.

  On their own lands, they welcomed the use of transports and technology, but all was left behind once they began their pilgrimage to the Heart Sands for the days of Ulmur. The aroma of burning metal and lubricants was foreign to the ceaq—beasts that called the Heart Sands home. No technology touched the beasts. Until now.

  His warriors followed in line at his back, three on each ceaq. Only Drazan, as warlord, rode a beast of his own. Though the ceaq was large enough to hold at least two more of his strongest.

  As they drew closer, the shape in the distance gradually took form. The spot soon had straight edges and sharp corners, blocky like a metal rectangle with protruding struts in every direction. The odd design with its weird points was foreign and ugly to Drazan’s eyes. The hovercrafts and other vehicles the Aterans used back in the Red Sands were sleek of design, smooth, and narrow. Built to glide easily over the sands with white hulls that reflected the heat and kept the interior cool. This foreign metallic beast was bulky and not aerodynamic. Its dark hull would absorb the heat of their twin suns above, turning the vessel into a fierce fire.

  No Ateran from the dry lands would build such a machine. And he did not believe the heathens of the frost lands would create the design either. This had to have come from the skies, carried by the bright rains Drazan and his warriors had seen.

  Drazan twisted in his saddle and raised his blade, pointing at the distant mass. “A gift from Eana from the stars as the seers foretold!”

  A chorus of muttering came from his warriors, males uneasy and shifting in their saddles as their attention moved from Drazan to the black mass. None had ever met a being from beyond the stars but talk of that possibility was common among their people. Had been for generations. Ateran seers—noble bred individuals schooled in science and religion—had spent years using advanced telescopes to search the stars for signs of Eana and her gifts.

  Many times they had reported signs of distant vessels that traveled between the stars, detected by faint energy signatures, but none had ever been seen by the common warrior. No, even as warlord, Drazan had yet to see proof of the star-dwellers. Many murmured that the seers’ claims were nothing more than superstition.

  Now they had proof before their eyes. Surely, Drazan knew, this vessel must hold emissaries of the goddess herself.

  “We should use caution,” Drazan’s paladin Telu—his second in command—brought his ceaq alongside Drazan’s. “They may be hostile. We know nothing of these star creatures.”

  Drazan pressed his thin lips together. It seemed sacrilegious to treat Eana’s gifts as potential foes. And yet, Drazan’s years as warlord had taught him caution above all else. After a moment’s hesitation, he nodded his agreement.

  “We will observe first.” Drazan gestured to his men to dismount. He leapt from his own ceaq and gave the beast a hard thump. “Then approach after nightfall.”

  A handful of his warriors went to work establishing a temporary camp, low tents designed to withstand the harsh winds of the Heart Sands going up quickly—silently. The rest of them dropped low and slowly approached the strange vessel. They traveled over the dunes and dipped into the shallow valleys, crawling up to the peak of a dune closest to the crash site and pausing at the top. They lay on their bellies as they peered down at the black hulk below.

  Drazan raised a crude spyglass and peered through it to better see the foreign hulk that now stained the pale Heart Sands. He scanned the dark shape, a large swath of blackness with no discernable markings or language. Smoke rose from the wreckage from several places and he spied torn walls where it appeared the vessel had broken apart.

  He abandoned his examination and scanned the horizon, searching for the remainder of the ship. Only to find nothing else in the vast expanse of the Heart Sands. He didn’t know what to make of the lack, but then, the very existence of the vessel was an enigma that bothered his mind.

  Why had the goddess hidden her gift in the bright rains? What gifts did it contain?

  “Should we send a scouting party?” Telu stared at the vessel, appearing just as perplexed as Drazan. “They can search for a way inside.”

  Drazan grunted. “Perhaps.” The wind gusted and grains of sand danced across the valley cradling the ship. The light shifted, a flare of brightness against the black, and he gestured toward the broken end of the vessel. “Is that movement?”

  It was.

  A narrow hatch opened, a door into the midnight rectangle pushed aside before several figures climbed free of the dark shape. He lifted the spyglass to his eye once more and kept his gaze focused on the strange creatures. Very, very strange. They had no scales, only a layer of flesh that covered their bodies. Their heads were covered in hair as fine as that of the ceaqs the Red Sands Aterans had ridden into the Heart Sands. Some had long strands while others were much shorter.

  Younger versions of the goddess’ gift?

  Strange garb hid parts of their soft, pink flesh from view, each wearing exactly the same clothing as the others. Were they all the same then? Did they have no warlord among them? He imagined there was much fighting among Eana’s gifts without a warlord to lead them.

  The wind tugged and pulled at their coverings, outlining their bodies and telling him more about these beings.

  “Strange creatures.” The paladin flicked his forked tongue between his lips.

  Drazan grunted once more. His eyes remained fixed on the strange, smooth-skinned creatures. He had never seen their like. They were foreign and different, but in a way that fascinated him. Their movements were fluid and graceful, not the sharp, determined strides of a trained warrior. It was an ease of movement he had never seen in another.

  He studied their forms further—two arms and two legs like his own kind though their faces were… odd. Their noses projected from their faces with two large holes—unlike Drazan’s flattened face with thin scales that protected his nostrils from the sands. They had large mounds on their chests, similar to the Heart Gifts a female Ateran gained after a hatchling. Were they female then?

  The strange creatures spent some time exploring the area around the black rectangle. No doubt, this land was as strange to them as they were to Drazan. They seemed unsuited for life in the dry sands. In truth, none of them traveled more than a few dozen paces from the ship. A couple ventured nearer to the closest dunes and Drazan tensed, prepared to leave shou
ld they get close to his position. Thankfully they remained away, climbing atop the dunes and peering into the distance in the opposite direction. There was nothing to be seen for days and days of travel in any direction. Little food. No water. Not even a hidden store of Living Sands that could support them for a short time in the dry climate.

  Those truths made him realize the creatures would perish if he and his men did not intervene.

  The creatures—females, he believed—ventured no further than the nearest dunes before rejoining the ship. Even after a short time beneath the twin suns, they showed signs of exhaustion. Though that did not mean they remained idle. Several dragged large swaths of fabric out of the broken ship and strung the sheets across broken struts to create makeshift tents. He did not know if the fabric was like that created by the weavers of the Red Sands, but it appeared to somewhat act like a shield against the heat. Then several creatures settled beneath the shade to take shelter for the remainder of the searing hot day.

  The burning brightness of midday gave way to afternoon and then finally drifted into evening. Darkness slowly cloaked them, and Drazan gathered several warriors to approach the battered ship. They would investigate these gifts from Eana. Each of the females remained unmoving beneath the impromptu tents, the creatures huddled in small groups. For safety, he imagined. At least they were not thoughtless.

  They appeared even more fragile up close, but there was something provocative about their soft, pink flesh, and the flowing fur on their heads. One in particular drew Drazan’s eyes again and again. Her head fur was long and brown with streaks of red like his scales. Her curves were gently rounded, unlike the harsh lines of most Ateran females.

  The creature was so different from his own kind and yet… Yet she caused a sensation he had never experienced—one he could not explain.

  Drazan crouched at the being’s side and leaned closer, studying the gentle lines of her delicate face. Extending his arm and curling his fingers slightly, he traced the back of his claw along her plump cheek. The soft, simple connection sent a surge through his body, an unfamiliar sensation in his loins stealing his breath. He wheezed and fought to draw air into his lungs, but his body fought his every effort. It could not be. He could not…

  He had heard of this stirring of a male, a gift from the goddess when an Ateran discovered his one—his kode.

  Drazan and his warriors had traveled to the Heard Sands for Ulmur—a great meeting of the tribes where they each hoped to find their kode. The one female in all of Atera that could stir a male’s blood and harden his shaft.

  He had expected he would mate another Ateran. And yet, Eana had him stirring for an alien female. It should not have been possible, but he could not deny the sensation building within him.

  “Truly,” Drazan whispered, “a gift from the goddess.”

  A gift that opened her eyes—deep brown pools that enchanted him—and then she opened her mouth to scream.

  Chapter Four

  Sheri drew in a deep breath, just ready to release it with a loud, long scream that would wake the dead. It’d be so loud the ground would shake and everyone would wake to freak out right alongside her. Because an alien monster hovered above her, his strange eyes, odd face and red skin only a few of the differences between her and this… thing. Someone else had to see this. It couldn’t be a hallucination, right? It was…

  Before the scream could escape her mouth, the alien placed a clawed finger to her lips, silencing her with that single touch. Instead, she let out a muffled eep while swallowing the harshest edge of her shout. The fear she ached to put to voice slunk inward instead, making her tremble. It was so great she was paralyzed and frozen in place.

  The creature was so much bigger and stronger than her—his thick muscles covered in odd, splotchy skin that painted him in odd swaths of red. She wouldn’t stand a chance against his strength or… Or the massive sword he gripped in his other hand. Claw? No matter what she called that part of him, it didn’t hide the fact that this was a powerful alien predator.

  And she was helpless—at his mercy.

  Her eyes darted from side-to-side, searching for a way out. A way to flee and get to safety.

  But there was no freedom. The other women under their makeshift tents were still asleep and as for the alien… The one that crouched near wasn’t the only alien creature. More of the odd-looking beasts were scattered throughout their group, each examining the other women.

  Hard scales. Sharp fangs. Flat noses. Reptilian eyes.

  And naked. Nude except for leather straps that held medieval weapons to their bodies. Weapons that they knew how to use. Knew how to kill her—or one of the others—with a single strike. They had the look of deadly warriors staring down at helpless prey.

  “Let me go.” Sheri’s voice came out as a hoarse croak. She took a deep breath and sought some hidden reserve of strength but didn’t manage to stop her trembling. “Please.”

  The alien hissed a series of strange sounds, ones so low they didn’t quite register in her ears though she felt them reverberate against her bones. She frowned when her TransComm Implant didn’t translate for her, assuming it was a language. Right then, she assumed the aliens weren’t known to the galactic community at large. Otherwise her TransComm Implant would have interpreted on her behalf.

  Perfect. Now she would have to wait for the deadly alien’s language to be translated by the implant naturally. Who knew how long that would take?

  The alien pivoted to glance at the others, hissing and grunting another series of foreign sounds. The others rose from their examinations of the other women, quietly retreating and disappearing into the sands. They simply… left. They left the others untouched, unmolested, and Sheri heaved a large sigh of relief. Perhaps, she thought, the aliens weren’t as hostile as she imagined. Just because they had deadly looking swords didn’t mean they intended to do them harm. Right.

  She mentally shook her head. That was what she got for letting her mind run away with her.

  As quickly as that relief arrived, it vanished in an instant. In that moment the alien scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder. She squealed and kicked her legs, but his powerful arm remained wrapped tightly around her waist and braced against his shoulder. She kicked his chest while her head dangled down over his back. She beat her fists uselessly against the hard red scales that covered his skin. She pounded him, bruising her hands with each hard strike but seemingly having no effect on the alien whatsoever.

  “Let me go!” she yelled for all she was worth.

  More hissing with a few spits thrown in for good measure and she had no doubt that—despite the language barrier—he knew she wanted her freedom. He carried her off anyway, leading her further from the ship and closer to the nearby dunes. But she wouldn’t give up. She wasn’t going to death, or whatever this was, quietly. She hadn’t survived him just to be destroyed by an alien on some unknown planet.

  A short distance away, far closer than she would have expected, they reached an encampment. There were a few dozen of those lizard-like aliens, along with a herd of large, hairy, six-legged herd beasts. Several tents were scattered throughout the camp, some of the aliens sharpening weapons while others cooked meals and several tended to the beasts.

  And they’d been so close. She couldn’t believe they’d been so near and none of the women had any idea. They hadn’t ventured far from the ship—the hot unforgiving desert had been too frightening to proceed without a clear plan—but this was a village.

  How long had the aliens been there? Had they been spying on them all day? She figured they must have seen the ship fall from the sky. An entry like that would have been visible for miles in every direction.

  The red-scaled alien carried her into the largest tent, barking a few words in a commanding tone at several aliens he passed. The others lowered their heads and muttered in response, their deference clear. So, she’d been kidnapped by their leader. Was that a good thing? Or bad?

  Inside th
e tent, he lowered her to a pallet made of woven cloth, fabric laid over a carpet made from interwoven leaves. The tent overhead looked like tanned leather—from one of those beasts outside? The interior was lit by fiery torches, not the emitters she was used to having around. She didn’t find any hint of tech anywhere, nothing more advanced than the alien’s sword and the spyglass that dangled from one of the straps.

  The alien knelt on the pallet and leaned over her, his strange eyes tracing every curve of her body. She cringed away, searching for a way out of the dim tent. As she scanned the interior, she realized the gut-twisting truth of the matter. There was nothing in the tent but torches and the pile of fabric she sat on, which had to be his bed. Her stomach dropped and nausea took over, frightening thoughts taking up residence in her mind while the sense of impending doom welled within.

  He reached for her and she scuttled away, turning her head when she couldn’t move her body any farther. She would refuse him as long as she could and in any way she could. And, more than likely, she would earn punishment in response. But punishment was a familiar friend. She’d experienced enough violence at the hands of her ex to prepare her for the night ahead.

  When she flinched back, the alien pulled back his claw-tipped hand and tilted his head to the side, studying her. He made no further moves to touch her and that one concession let a glimmer of hope spark to life. He spoke then, his tone gentle, even curious. Though she couldn’t begin to guess his intentions. Was he lulling her into a false sense of security before he took what he wanted?

  Sheri licked her lips, the desert air drying them until they cracked. “Let me go.”

  He barked a few more sounds and reached behind him, pulling one strap around until he pulled a flask free of its tie. He held the container out to her, shaking it so she heard the liquid slosh around inside. She eyed it, wariness adding itself to the fear and unease that plagued her. She had no idea what it contained. For all she knew, it was poisonous. One sip could kill her even if he didn’t intend to end her life. Who knew what would harm her on the odd alien planet? There was just…