~ Heart Of The Betrayed ~

by

Angela Verdenius

Six

"What the hell--?" Recovering first, Gera started forward angrily, only to stop and pale as the laser swung around to cover her.

Her eyes shifted from the laser to the blonde warrior wielding it. Tall and strong, feminine muscles playing easily beneath the honey-tanned skin. A short, split leather skirt came to mid-thigh, rawhide boots stopping below shapely knees. The vest was sleeveless and only the tight rawhide lacing at the front held it in place. The hilt of a sword showed high behind the warrior’s shoulder.

A deadly weapon to match the deadly look in the heavily fringed, hazel eyes.

"What’s going on, stranger?" Gera asked warily. "What’s the meaning of this?"

"I’m here for my slaves."

"What slaves?"

"The two that were stolen from me," came the harsh reply.

A strong sense of foreboding filled Gera and her gaze darted to the pained faces of the men behind the warrior, seeing the spark of hope and recognition in them.

"Who’re the slaves?" someone yelled. "Hurry up so we can return to the bidding for these two!"

Smiling coldly, Dana kept her gaze trained on Gera. "There will be no bidding for these two particular men."

"What are you talking about?" the woman called back irritably, still not understanding. "Do you know them?"

Gera’s eyes hardened.

"Aye," Dana replied. "These two are my slaves."

A shocked silence fell upon the bidders, then a protesting roar filled the square.

"Gera, no!"

"It cannot be so!"

"You lie, stranger! You just want them for yourself!"

Dana stared directly at Gera. "What say you, slaver?"

Her jaw clenched furiously. "What proof have you? They are not marked in any way with ownership!"

The thought of this hard-faced bitch inspecting Garret--and Jase--for marks made Dana’s temper boil, but years of training kept her face impassive. "I don’t like my merchandise marked, slaver. Now hand them over to me."

"No." The Southlander’s face tightened. "I’d advise you to leave now, while you still can, and while you’re still alive."

"Dana," Garret whispered, voice raw with pain. "To your left..."

Without looking, she knew that someone had a weapon aimed at her, but she betrayed no fear. Her eyes were mocking as she held her own laser unwaveringly at the slaver. "If I die, we both go. What say you to that?"

"You’re bluffing."

The low whine of the laser sounded as her finger tightened on the trigger. "Am I?"

Looking into hard eyes, Gera knew she faced death. She swallowed.

"Hold!" a sharp voice cracked with authority.

"Zar!" Gera glanced with relief at the red-haired woman striding grimly through the crowd.

Immediately feminine voices rose in shrieked protest and yelled explanations. Scowling, Zar stepped up onto the dais. At her first close look at the intruder who had interrupted the slave auction, her eyes widened. "You!"

"It’s a nice welcome to Southland, Zar."

The Southland leader looked at the slaver. "What’s going on, Gera?"

"She claims these males are her slaves."

Her gaze flicked back to the warrior, before cutting briefly to the pained giants behind her. "Your slaves, stranger?"

"Aye, mine. Stolen from me." Dana paused, then continued deliberately, "While I was saving your life."

A murmur swept the Southlanders.

Zar’s lips tightened. "These men were not stolen, but found wandering the woods."

"With my permission."

Gera glared at Dana. "Slaves will run at the first opportunity. You can’t tell me that you allow them free reign. I refuse to believe it!"

"I don’t have to explain myself or my actions to you, slaver." Contempt filled the words. "As I said, Zar, such a nice welcome."

Not liking the situation one bit, the Southlander frowned. This stranger had saved her life and she was not one to forget that sort of thing. Her gaze switched to the two men. "They have no markings. How can you prove that they belong to you?"

"I know them and they know me."

"Where’s the proof?" Gera sneered.

"Proof?" Fine brows arched. "Turn off your pain machine and you shall have it."

"Turn it off? These male pigs will attack us all!"

"They’ll obey me. Now turn it off."

Frantically, Gera looked at a thoughtful Zar. "No! How can we control them? You saw them. They are not to be trusted."

Dana waited, calm and coolly unconcerned outwardly, but tense on the inside and ready for action.

The watching Southlanders waited in hushed silence for their leader to speak.

"Zar!" Gera prompted urgently.

"You wanted proof," Dana said smoothly. "I’ll give it to you. What have you got to lose? You hold the obedience mechanism. You can inflict disabling pain if I’m proven false."

"Very well, stranger." Zar held her hand out to Gera. "Give me the box."

"What? Surely you can’t believe the lies of this woman?"

"What do you fear, slaver?" Dana smiled mockingly. "That I’ll be proven true?"

The taunt struck home. "You’ll be proven false!"

"Gera!" Suddenly impatient to get the episode dealt with and over, Zar spoke sharply. "The box. Now."

Sullenly she handed it to her leader. "If the slaves don’t kill you, this stranger will."

The cold blue eyes dropped to the laser. "What do you say? I am willing for you to prove your claims, are you willing to meet me halfway and lower your weapon?"

"Sure, why not?" Dana lowered the laser, hoping she wasn’t mistaken, and that the cold-eyed Southland leader wouldn’t order her death. If she did, she swore to herself that she’d take both the redhead and the slaver into Death’s embrace with her, but somehow she had a feeling that Zar wasn’t that dirty in her dealings.

She was correct.

Zar gazed at her then nodded, releasing the button. Immediately Garret and Jase sagged to their knees in relief, massive chests heaving.

"Proof, stranger," she said quietly.

"Proof!" someone echoed and the chant was taken up by hundreds of females. "Proof! Proof! Proof!"

Sharply bringing her hand up, Zar’s face registered disapproval. "Control!"

The chant died off quietly.

She turned back to Dana. "I await this proof."

Tension was thick in the air, with a mixture of anticipation and curiosity.

"Proof is in the obedience of my slaves," Dana repeated.

Zar nodded sharply.

The Daamens are proud and stubborn. If they took it into their heads to take matters into their own hands... Ah, well, there was no turning back now. What will be, will be.

Without changing position to see where the men were positioned behind her, and without removing her gaze from the Southland leader, Dana held her arms by her side and snapped her fingers. The sound was loud in the hushed silence.

"Jase! Garret! Heel!" Oh God, oh God, please don’t let them choose now to be outraged! To be stubborn! To roar out their indignation! To--

Soft hair brushed her fingertips on one side, long strands tickling her bare legs, and the warm presence of a big body on either side of her registered. Thank God.

The Southlanders stared in awed shock at the two giants kneeling so meekly beside the young warrior, their heads bowed submissively.

Zar’s eyes dropped to the two men then returned to Dana. "Well, well."

Fury trembled in Gera’s voice. "That is your proof? Not enough, stranger, not nearly enough!"

Dana ignored her, attention focused fully on Zar.

Zar pursed her lips. "It seems likely that they’re your slaves, for they weren’t so submissive with us."

"You can’t give them to her without proof!" Gera clenched her fists.

"Impressive, yes, but I require more proof," Zar stated.

The tension in the traders was clearly felt by Dana. "Control? I’ll show you complete control." She moved forward. "Step back."

Curiously, Zar did as bidden, motioning to Gera to do the same.

Dana paced to the end of the dais, turned, and faced the two traders. Slowly, she reached back and withdrew the sword from the sheath on her back, the sharp rasp loud in the stillness.

The Daamens lifted their heads to look at her, their faces impassive.

At the sight of the bloodied bandana around Garret’s head, her heart lurched. Dried blood marked one side of his face, which was pale from pain.

Blocking her emotions, she said, "Spread your knees, Garret." Please, please, trust me. Do it.