The Claimed: Rashika's Resistance

Chapter 6: Rona

I wheeled back toward Pim. Three fur-faced warriors closed in on us from different sides. Two men and one woman. Swords ready, dirks tucked into belts. Lurching prowls. Sharp, predatory gazes.

Three sets of eyes swung between me and Pim. The short, heavily-muscled man nodded toward Pim, and then all three Trogolese charged him.

I darted forward to intercept the path of the shorter man, the apparent leader. He spun toward me just in time to parry my swinging blade. My next swing forced him back a step.

He recovered quickly, lunged forward, and lashed out. The clanging swords vibrated up my arms and rattled in my eardrums.

Exhilaration flamed through me.

The swords met again with a clang and then a clash. I backpedaled a step to readjust my position... 

And my back collided with the trunk of a tree.

I brought my blade up just in time to catch his swing, and metal scraped metal with a jarring screech. Before I could shift away from the tree, he whipped the blade around. Sparks burst where the swords intersected, and heat singed my face.

His furry lips twisted into a smirk as he swung even harder.

I ducked.

His blade smacked the tree trunk with a dull thunk and a billow of cedary dust. Before he could yank the blade loose, I thrust mine up through the bottom of his chin. The fur of his face spasmed like a ripple of wind through grass. Then he slumped backward and flipped onto his back.

I wrenched my blade free with a squelch and spun toward Pim.

One of his opponents had already fallen, her wide eyes a jarring white against dark fur. Pim stalked toward the last man standing. Sweat slithered down his face, and his pink scar wriggled as he flashed a brutal grin.

As I jogged toward him, I caught a streak of motion just beyond the trees to the right.

"One more escaping," I called. "I go or stay?"

"Go," Pim bellowed as he thrust his sword forward once more.

I took off into the woods.

Adrenaline poured hot through my veins, and my feet pounded an unrelenting beat against stiff grass and sticks. I hurdled logs and grasped tree branches to redirect my momentum. Although the figure ahead darted left and right with surprising dexterity, the distance between us slowly diminished.

Ahead, a pit opened up in the middle of the trees. The escaping Trogolese warrior glanced over their shoulder at me. I glimpsed scruffy facial fur before the warrior tumbled straight into the pit.

I slowed to a stop at the pit's edge and readied my blade. The Trogolese warrior scrambled to her feet and brandished a dirk.

Then her ankle twisted.

And she crumpled down onto the dirt.

My gut clenched. When I had imagined battling the Trogolese, I never imagined a warrior so small... so defenseless. This had to be some kind of trick—perhaps another ambush? I pivoted, searching for movement among the trees.

The forest stood still.

I swallowed hard and shook my head. Her looks could not dissuade me. King Makapu had ordered us to eliminate all enemy warriors we found, and I knew the Trogolese learned how to fight at a young age.

I crouched to plant one palm on the edge of the pit, swung down, and stalked toward her. She dug her good foot into the ground to scoot back a foot. One trembling hand lifted her dirk before her, and her other arm covered her furry face.