Chapter Ten – Taliga
The stories of Earth Taliga had heard in his childhood made it sound like a perfect paradise. Lush jungles, deep, sparkling oceans. He had always been taught that humans were a blessed species to live in such a paradise where they were the dominant predator. Of course, that was always followed by stern warnings that they were expelled from that world because of vague sins and that the world had been cursed for it.
Looking at what the planet had become, Taliga believed it. The ground was hard as a rock. The sun beat down from the sky and an equal amount of heat rose from the solid dirt beneath his feet.
The Wytsian priests ringed him, looking as cool as space in their heavy robes. They must have some sort of cooling system in there. Vanessa was held at one side, bands of energy holding her arms across her chest. The High priest faced him, naked but for white trousers.
"To win the right to take your wife's sins on your own head and save her from being sacrificed as she deserves, you must win in a fight against me," the high priest said. He was glaring, not at Taliga, but at Vanessa. "To win you must land a mortal wound, but not kill me. I, however, am free to kill you."
"How can a wound be mortal and not kill?" Taliga demanded.
The priest grinned. He raised his stolen black blade, and it was only then that the T'shav realized that he wasn't going to be given a weapon of his own. Taliga cursed as the priest charged towards him, broadsword pointed directly at his heart. The priest was swift, his footsteps steady, but it was easy enough to dodge him.
The priest whirled as Taliga sidestepped him, the blade coming at his head. Taliga dropped, kicking out. The priest jumped, avoiding him. He brought the sword down towards his prey. With a roll, Taliga narrowly missed the sword and rammed instead into the priest's legs. The priest's arms flew out to either side, his grip on the sword loosening as he lurched backward. He kept his balance in the end, though.
Taliga jumped back to his feet and immediately stumbled. Though he longed to drive forward and take advantage of the priest's slip, he made himself back away, regaining his own composure. Being held captive in that far-too-hot room with no food or water was catching up to him. He hadn't eaten since before he and Kulog had met with the priests in the first place. His throat was parched and sweat ran down his temple.
The priest was more cautious with his approach now. He circled the T'shav, inching his way closer. Taliga rested his hands on his knees, panting, trying to make himself look more vulnerable than he actually was. His only hope was to get the sword away from the priest.
Vanessa made a noise from the sidelines. Taliga couldn't help it; he turned to look at her. She was being dragged to an altar built from stones. Her normally golden tones were pale, eyes wide. One of the priests beside her had a hand over her mouth. The one on her other side had a knife in his hands, turning it over and over in his hands.
They were so certain he was going to lose that they were already preparing her for the sacrifice.
Rage boiled through his blood. Taliga turned on the high priest, striking aside the sword that he drove at him. The sharp edge bit deep into his arm but he didn't care, punching hard at the Aphrosian's ribs. His knuckles cracked as they made contact. He punched again. Another crack, this time from the ribs. The priest gasped. He brought the sword up, but Taliga rammed his fist into first one shoulder and then the other.
This animal was not going to harm Vanessa. And Taliga would ensure he never harmed anyone ever again.
When the sword fell to the ground, Taliga grabbed the priest by the throat. With a roar, he tossed him back. The priest rolled, then jumped to his feet. Taliga picked up his sword and grinned at the man. Despite all of the odds that the Wytsians had stacked against him, there was no way he could lose now. Not when he had his own sword in his hand.
A smudge of red streaked the sky. Another ship? Were the priests expecting others to join them?
Taliga ignored the new ship; he'd deal with the newcomers soon enough. He faced the priest. The man backed away from him, eyes widening. Fear and hatred both played across his features. He knew what was coming as well as Taliga did, but to his credit, he didn't flinch as the T'shav stalked towards him. His chin came up and he glared at Taliga as he came closer.
When Taliga stabbed at him, he tried to dodge but was too slow. A rush of adrenaline and relief washed over the T'shav as he felt the sword pierce flesh and bone. The priest's mouth opened but nothing came out. Blood oozed out from around the blade.
"Mortal wound, but not immediately fatal," Taliga whispered. "That means I win."
The priest grabbed his shoulder in and effort to remain upright. A ghostly red glow turned his blue skin purple as his golden eyes narrowed.
"No. Kill him!" the priest shouted. "Kill the T'shav and sacrifice the false human!"
"I beat you!" Taliga shouted. "You have no right to harm her!"
The priest yanked himself off the sword and thrust himself back onto the blade. Taliga felt it cut through the bone; the priest went limp. Taliga whirled. Vanessa was bound to the altar, blue ropes of energy holding her in place. One of the priests held a book over her and began reading while the others headed towards Taliga.
Blood poured from the wound in his arm, and the heat made his head swim. He could not have lost against the high priest, but there were half a dozen men coming at him now and another half dozen around the priest that was chanting the rituals to sacrifice Vanessa. There was no way that he could defeat them all – certainly not in time to save Vanessa's life.
But he had to try.
The whistle of a ship lowering itself over their heads drowned out his roar as he charged forward. And there were these new Wytsians to deal with. The priests ran at him, all of them drawing small weapons that they brandished towards him.
Just before they met each other, a blue blur dropped from the ship hovering over them. An Aphrosian, twice as broad as any he had seen before, landed in the midst of the priests. Twin blades flashed, reflecting the blood-red light of the engines above them. The Aphrosian easily cut through the bodies of the nearest priests.
Taliga didn't question the sudden help and threw himself into the fray, cutting down first one priest and then another. Two more figures dropped from the ship, one right where the altar was. Screams rose in the air. A T'shav chopped his way through the priests, moving to join the Aphrosian. They stood back to back, fluidly shielding and attacking together like they had done so a thousand times.
"Bet I can take out more than you, Ronan," the Aphrosian shouted in a high, feminine voice.
"You're on," the T'shav laughed.
Taliga used his sword to deflect the twin daggers that one of the priests threw at him, then leaped forward and decapitated the man. He stumbled, head spinning. His stomach lurched. The wound in his arm had deepened, pumping his life's blood out in an arterial spray. His whole side of his body was slick with it, but he stumbled forward, slashing through the hordes that were now more interested in the new arrivals than in him.
Somewhere, he stabbed a priest and couldn't retrieve his sword. He left it there, making his way through to where Vanessa was. Another T'shav stood over her, fighting off the priests that were trying to slice at him and Vanessa both. Taliga punched a priest in the face and threw him into his fellows. The T'shav glanced back; Taliga saw his face. With the heat of battle and blood loss, Taliga forgot for a moment where they were and just stared.
It was Zon's son, standing protectively over Vanessa. The Sanctuary did send someone after her after all.
Another priest came at Taliga, and he was just able to punch the man in the face and steal his weapon. The T'shav shook his head – he couldn't afford to let himself be distracted. Only a few more steps and he was right by the altar. He dropped to his knees, searching with blurred vision for the anchors that kept the energy field in place. He found one and stabbed it, then another and another.
He wasn't aware that he had freed Vanessa until she was by his side, pulling him into her arms. Taliga smiled, touching her lips. The sounds of the battle around them reminded him of where they were. He couldn’t fight his way out again, so he tucked Vanessa into a ball and draped himself over her, trying to protect any vulnerable spots.
Hours or minutes passed. Taliga didn't know. He didn't know anything other than Vanessa was in his arms, and he had to protect her at any cost. And at the moment the only way he could protect her was to shield her with his body.
Hands grasped his arms, pulling him back. Taliga held on as tightly as he could, but more hands latched on. Slowly they pried him back. He struck out weakly, but couldn’t get enough strength to land a decent blow. He heard Vanessa's voice, high-pitched and frightened. He growled.
"Leave her alone."
"Relax, big guy," a male voice said in his ear. "We're here to rescue the human, not harm her."
His vision settled. The two T'shav and Aphrosian stared into his face. He blinked, searching for Vanessa. She pushed the other three aside and bent over him. Her lips pressed to his.
"You're safe now," he mumbled. "You're safe."
"Ironic, really," the Aphrosian said as his vision slid out of focus again. "We're sent to kill him for kidnapping a human and now we have to take him back with us."
One of the T'shav bent over him. "If he survives."
Everything went black.