Brocke: Alien Warlord's Conquest (Scifi Surprise Pregnancy Alien Military Romance) (15 page)

W
ell
, fuck. This is bad, isn’t it? This is really bad.

It wasn’t the most astute tactical observation, but Cora was honestly still too stunned by everything that was going on. The priests by her side didn’t have to push hard anymore as she walked on her own, knowing she had no choice in the matter.

Cora felt like ever since they’d set foot in Olyra, the trap had been closing around her and Brocke.

The last she’d seen of the warlord was his blades cutting through the door separating them. Cora imagined she could still hear Brocke’s furious roars, the way the guardian tore at the metal, breaking it down by almost sheer force of will alone.

It was impossible to hear anything like that in Komol, though. The mass of people was buzzing around her, looking at Cora like she was one of the exhibits in the arena already.

She was absolutely sure she was about to be one as soon as Condor finished whatever sick game he was playing.

Cora reached the priest, alone and unarmed. She had been relieved of her blaster along the way, naturally. So it was pretty much the opposite of what Brocke had wanted for her.

As she stared down their enemy, Cora found that her heart ached more for Brocke than herself. Condor bore no particular hate towards her; she was nothing but the vessel of Brocke’s child. Her hands closed around her belly instinctively, remembering the horrors the guardian had hinted at.

Condor smiled, beckoning Cora closer.

He looked every bit the madman he was. A tall, thin man, like Brocke had said, with a powerful voice and eyes that seemed to burn in his head. Only as soon as Cora looked into them, she knew that Brocke had been right in everything he’d told Ashby.

Condor was afraid of Brocke, deadly afraid, and that was the reason for all of the mayhem around them.

“Lieutenant Frey,” the priest said, cutting into her line of thought. “It’s good that you’ve come. Voluntarily, I might add. To Olyra.”

He laughed, and the entire crazy population of the underground network laughed with him. Cora felt nothing but disgust for them, but she also knew they were right. She was trapped, she had stepped into this on her own, and her only hope of escaping was Brocke. As powerful as the guardian was, Cora wasn’t so sure it was enough all of a sudden.

Still, she refused to give Condor that satisfaction as the priest led her to the platform he was observing his massacre from.

“We came here to stop you,” she said defiantly. “And we will.”

Condor was surprisingly unfazed by that, smiling to her in a way that made Cora think she had underestimated him in the end.

“
We
,” the priest repeated as new fighters were entering the arena. “I’m afraid there is nothing
you
can do, Terran. I know the Guardian is after me, and he can come now that you’ve provided me with all the protection I need. But don’t imagine there is a way out of here for you.”

Cora would have responded with something snappy, but her mouth was open in horror.

Two warriors entered the arena. One was clearly larger than the other, more powerful in all the ways that mattered. He resembled Brocke a little, but all Corgan warriors looked similar at times with their flashing blue eyes and powerful forms. The smaller man had only a few of the telltale tattoos that told of enhancements to his body, and his eyes were not nearly as bright.

He hasn’t trained for too long,
Cora caught herself thinking, the investigator in her catching the hints easily enough.

The smaller warrior showed no fear facing the gargantuan opponent, but Cora screamed when he was split open with almost no effort by the giant a moment later. She wasn’t the only one, but all the other voices
cheered
.

“Weak!” the victorious warrior roared, throwing the body of the fallen on the ground near the exposed corpses. “This is my ninth fight of the day, and not one of the half-breeds has managed to even strike me once! We should pity them, brothers and sisters. The Terran blood in them is making them like this, but with Condor’s lead, we will carve that threat to us right out of them!”

Again, Cora felt her hands going around her belly and saw Condor observe her with a crooked smile.

“So this is the answer to everything,” she spat. “You are trying to convince Olyra and the Corgans that there is some inherent weakness in half-breeds, that they’re somehow a threat to Corgans.”

“There is,” Condor snarled. “You will see soon. Even the Guardian is a half-breed in the end. Out of his precious Gomor, he is not so powerful. Patience, Terran. He will face Nargh like all the others, and he will die, proving me ultimately right. If even the chieftain’s son can fall, I need to say no more.”

“
Everyone
can lose,” Cora yelled at him, but Condor’s priests barred her way before she could punch him. “That is the point, you sick fuck. This has nothing to do with being a half-breed, and you know it. Maybe the people here are dumb enough to buy this, but I know better. The guy you just killed? That was no match. He has been a warrior for what, a year, if that? And that brute is clearly an experienced murderer. What other resolution could there be?”

Condor looked at her with eyes that said he wasn’t really listening. Cora watched – breathing heavily – at the way he regarded her like he didn’t speak the same language. She was beginning to think the priest really had lost his mind, but then Condor spoke again.

“I knew he would come,” he said with a cruel grin. “The Guardian thinks he’s so clever. I know he let me out of Gomor, I am not an idiot. But it never occurred to him that I let him get so close to me? Every step of the way, I’ve been leading him here.“

“All these people… Of course Brocke needed to come. The only thing I couldn’t have prepared for was you, and I have to say, Brocke has defeated himself better than I ever could have.”

He walked right past the guards and caught Cora’s hand that came up to hit him as hard as she could. For all his frailty, Condor was stronger than he looked, and now that Cora was so close to him, she could see he was armed as well.

She hoped to all the gods that Brocke knew Condor would never give him an honest fight.

“It will all begin with Olyra, as it always has,” Condor said, his dark eyes staring right through Cora, making her take an involuntary step back. “Very soon, all of Gaiya will see and understand. Everything you see here will spread like fire. Today, I will break the gates of Olyra open, and we will take back this world for true Corgans. You will help me do it.”

Cora struggled against his grip, but Condor didn’t let go.

The priest leaned in closer to whisper so no one else could hear, “I have such plans for you. I will keep you awake as I take your half-breed brat from you. I hope the Guardian doesn’t die quickly, so he can watch too.”

Cora had no words for that. She spat in his face, knowing it was a futile attempt at rebellion. Condor laughed it off, pointing to the massive crowd around them, already demanding for more blood.

“Do you see all of this? These people understand the old ways. We will bring them back, and the nonbelievers will curse the day they forgot about Olyra.”

Cora watched the arena, shaking despite herself. That was not the end she had imagined. Condor’s words had cut deeper than she would have liked.

I should have stayed away. Now I’m a hostage Brocke needs to fight for. Me and our child both, in the hands of this lunatic.

One of the priests whispered something to Condor, and for a second, Cora saw a flash of fear on Condor’s face, but then he was grinning that sick smile again.

“The Guardian approaches!” the priest called, his powerful voice carrying easily over Komol.

A hush went through the thousands of people gathered there, looking around as though Brocke might be standing right next to them.

“All of these little fights you’ve seen today,” Condor said, “have been nothing compared to the truth I’m about to show you. You all know Brocke. They say the chieftain’s son is the most powerful warrior alive, but I will show you the lie. A half-breed could be nothing like that. All he has are shadows and myth.”

Down in the arena, the warrior called Nargh roared a challenge to Brocke, but Cora could barely hear him over the screaming coming from one of the corridors leading to Komol. She was about to call out to Brocke when Condor pulled her to her knees in front of him, holding Cora by the hair. When he cut her uniform open with a long blade that suddenly appeared in Condor’s hand from one of the sleeves of his robe, Cora screeched.

The bloody cut went right across her belly.

He’s going to do it,
her panicking mind kept repeating.
He is going to cut me open like those poor bastards down there.

For one eternal moment, despair buried Cora under it and for a second, Condor’s words rang true to her, at least the threats he made. Cora had no idea how many people there were in Olyra, but certainly enough to cause trouble on Gaiya, even if she didn’t think they could overtake it. Condor seemed too confident, so perhaps the priest had more supporters in high places.

And then Cora saw Brocke.

The guardian appeared from the corridor where the screams had come from, covered in blood from head to toe. The look in his bright blue eyes was terrible to behold, and Cora could feel Condor wince even if the priest didn’t let her slip away.

Brocke stared right at them across the path that had opened for him in the middle of the crowd. He had the twin swords in his hands, bared and clearly used. He was panting, but not from exertion. The look of absolute loathing he gave Condor promised revenge.

For all the cheering they’d done before, Cora noticed how silent the crowd had become.

It might have had something to do with the head impaled on one of the swords. From the distance, it was hard to tell, but Cora was certain it was Brocke’s treacherous, cowardly uncle. The warlord discarded the head, sending it flying into the crowd who stepped out of the way, sprayed with blood.

When Brocke started moving forward, Cora could feel Condor’s grip tighten around her hair. The blade in the priest’s hand was still close enough to her belly to slice her in two in one swift move.

My baby
, Cora thought, gritting her teeth in fury.
I will not let you have my child, you fucking monster.

Down below them, Brocke had reached the arena and let his bright blue eyes go over the corpses laid out there. Absolute silence reigned as he did that, shaking the blood off his swords.

“Half-breed,” Condor greeted him. “I knew you’d come.”

Brocke gave him a dark look but didn’t respond. Cora kept struggling, trying to pry the blade away from her exposed belly. She saw the warlord’s eyes drift over her as well. Then the guardian raised his eyes to Condor.

“Did you?” he asked.

His deep voice was quiet and deadly, but everyone in Komol heard, Cora was certain of that. They hung on his every word, hungering for more. Condor had promised them death, and it looked like Brocke agreed on that at least.

“You know I am right,” Condor said with apparent calm. “From the moment I first came to Gomor, I’ve known you see the truth the same as I do, you just refuse to admit it. Half-breeds
are
weak. You should know that better than most, Guardian. Your own body nearly rejected the organs all of our warriors have. Most of the ones here don’t even have what you do. Weakness has taken a hold of them, and I am the cure.”

Brocke said nothing, waiting for the priest to finish, but Condor wasn’t done.

“All those years, you’ve called me a liar,” the priest hissed. “But you know I am not. The Corgans are a species to be feared, but there will be nothing left of that glory if we suffer half-breeds to live. With every generation, the blood will grow weaker. All priests know this. Your child here –”

Condor punctuated that with a sharp poke at Cora’s belly. She knew it drew blood, but bit her tongue not to scream, not to give the maniac the satisfaction.

“– Will probably never be a warrior,” Condor said with obvious glee. “But you shouldn’t worry. I will not let it live long enough to prove me right.”

The priest finished, and an expectant silence settled over Komol. Even Cora waited for what Brocke had to say, but the guardian simply stood there until a small smirk dawned on his lips. Cora could hear Condor growl in frustration at that sign of defiance.

“You dare –”

“You’re right,” Brocke said, his deep voice cutting through Condor’s like a blade.

Everyone in the large hall stared at him, unbelieving, but Cora knew that wasn’t it.

“We have said enough,” the warlord went on, walking to the center of the arena slowly, unafraid. “Time to prove you right, then.”

“Nargh!” Condor ordered.

As the big warrior stomped closer, the priest called to Brocke, “I hope you know the worth of this fight, Guardian! If you lose, I will make sure you see me cutting her throat before laying both of you in that arena, the truth revealed to the world at last.”

Brocke didn’t even blink at the threat, even if Cora saw the signs Condor didn’t. The warlord had made it perfectly clear that she was Brocke’s first priority, but Cora couldn’t imagine how he would be able to face the other warrior like that.

She needed to do something, give Brocke the chance to fight for real. Both of them knew Condor lied.

No matter what, Cora was sure she was going to die if Brocke won.

The guardian turned his piercing blue eyes to Condor, and Cora could feel the priest wince under that gaze.

“I hope you know this is the day you die,” Brocke said with absolute calm, not even looking at the enemy charging at him, howling a battle cry. “The only thing you still have some power over is the manner of your death. Every cut you make on her, I will make you suffer the same tenfold.”

Condor’s hands were shaking in her hair, but then Cora heard him laugh.

“Kill him!” he bellowed, and the rest of his warriors rushed to the arena.

Dozens and dozens of them.

Cora cursed herself for taking so long to understand the trap they’d really walked into. Condor wasn’t going to let either of them walk out of there alive, even if he had to cheat to make it so.