Dzar-Ghan (Alien Barbarians of Vandruk #3)

39. Chapter 39

With a heavy heart, I watched Dzar-Ghan talk to the Grand Master Thlung-Rhan. Nyhr-Shun filled me in on all the names, which got a little mottled in my head after several khadahrs arrived and joined the talking men.

“You got into the cave?” Amber came to greet me, followed by another woman whom she introduced as Gwyn. She hadn’t needed to, though. Everybody knew who Gwyn was. She had become a celebrity in her own right. The woman who opened the portal for the first contact with the Vandruk. The first woman to marry one of the barbarians.

Never taking my eyes from the men talking by the temple gates, I filled Gwyn and Amber in on what we had discovered.

“They’re going in,” Gwyn exclaimed, holding her hand to her chest.

I don’t know how it happened, but suddenly, all three of us were holding hands, standing in silence as we listened to the slowly louder growing cries and shouts of joy coming from the temple.

Soon, a near stampede of women surged through the gates.

Our hands squeezed each other hard as we watched the first warrior step forward with an expression of utter disbelief on his face. He yelled the name of a woman, who ran toward him with outstretched arms, and I hardly noticed a tear rolling down my cheek.

More shouting, deafening shouting erupted, men surged forward, laughter coming from thousands of people at reuniting with loved ones they had believed dead for so long.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Amber cried, ripping her hands from Gwyn’s and mine and sprinting forward. A few yards ahead of her was Bzun-Lhan, stumbling, trying to outrun his destiny. Amber tackled him mercilessly to the ground, leaving me speechless as she grabbed the man by his hair and yanked him up. Bzun-Lhan wasn’t as muscular and powerfully build as the other Vandruks, but he still had to outweigh Amber by at least double. Still, she pulled him forward like a misbehaving kid, bringing him back to where Gwyn and I stood, speechlessly staring at her. She kicked Bzun-Lhan down. “Stay!”

Had my hate for this man not burned so deep, it would have been funny, but as it was, I found myself truly wanting to hurt someone for the first time in my life.

It felt like hours while we anxiously awaited the return of our husbands. Finally, Tzar-Than made his way over to us. Gwyn clutching my hand harder made me realize she was nursing the same insecurities about her husband as I did about Dzar-Ghan. He, too, would have found his long-lost fiancée. I gripped her hand harder in a gesture of support.

“Gwyn.” Tzar-Than pulled a haggard-looking but happily smiling woman with him. “This is Tilliah, my sister. Tilliah, this is Gwyn, my khadahrshi.”

I gave Gwyn a slight push, and she moved forward to embrace the other woman.

“It’s so nice to meet you. To see you alive,” Gwyn mumbled awkwardly.

She looked up questioningly at Tzar-Than, whose eyes were unreadable. “I haven’t seen Illug yet.”

“I’m sorry, Tzar-Than, they took Illug away years ago,” Tilliah said.

“What do you mean took her away ? Who? Why?” Tzar-Than demanded.

Tilliah shook her head. “We don’t know. Every so often, Bzun-Lhan would come and take one of us away, and we would never see her again.”

“Bzun-Lhan!” Tzar-Than rushed forward and pulled the priest up by his throat. “What did you do to her? Where is she?”

He shook the priest.

“Hold on there, big guy,” Amber interfered fearlessly. With a knife and without any regard for Bzun-Lhan’s cheek, she cut the gag off. Bzun-Lhan sputtered and gasped, but that was about all he could do since Tzar-Than was still holding him in a death grip.

When Tzar-Than loosened his grip slightly, Bzun-Lhan choked out, “How dare you. I’m your High Priest. I’m your brother.”

Before Tzar-Than had a chance to respond, Amber pushed the tip of the knife against Bzun-Lhan’s nostril. “You’re not my High Priest or brother.”

I gagged when she cut him again, this time on purpose.

“Amber,” Tzar-Than called warningly. “I’ll handle this.”

“I can make him talk,” Amber trilled.

My stomach knotted. I had liked her when I first met her, but now I was beginning to wonder if she was some sort of psycho. Who enjoyed hurting others? Or was this a show she put on for Bzun-Lhan?

I took a closer look at her determined face. No, this wasn’t a show, but I didn’t think she was enjoying it either. She was doing a job. I prayed I would never get on her bad side.

“It’s over, Bzun-Lhan. Where is Illug and the others?”

Gwyn winced at the mention of who I assumed had been Tzar-Than’s intended, and my sympathy went out to her.

“Go ahead and kill me if you must, but I will never tell you what happened to your precious Illug!” Bzun-Lhan spat and even I could see that he was determined to take that information to the grave.

“He won’t need to,” Dzar-Ghan interrupted, arriving next just as Tzar-Than’s fist landed in the High Priest’s midsection.

My heart skipped a beat as I noticed two women clinging to Dzar-Ghan’s arms. One wore a striking resemblance to him, just in a much softer way; the other looked as haggard as Tilliah, but it didn’t deter from her extraordinary, exotic beauty. I swallowed. I would never stand a chance against her. She looked forlorn and vulnerable, so much so that I wanted to take her into my arms and protect her. There was no way Dzar-Ghan wouldn’t. Tears burned in my eyes, which they had done quite often in the last couple of days, but it wasn’t as if I hadn’t already known I had lost Dzar-Ghan. I had known it the moment we went into the cave and discovered that there was a chance the other women were still alive.

As much as I would have wanted to, I couldn’t deny the pair their happiness. Not after what they had gone through. Not after it had been my species that brought this over them in the first place. If this was my punishment for my role—no matter how minuscule—in this, I would take it. I wasn’t so noble that I could say I wished them all the luck and happiness in the world; well, I did, but part of me was so incredibly envious of her; it hurt like no pain I had ever experienced.

“Thlung-Rhan has given us information about a book that is being kept at the Temple; in it, they recorded all the names of gallies who have been mated to others.”

“How is that possible?” Dzur-Khan arrived, also followed by a Vandruk woman. “Everybody knows my sister Gisetta. She would have never willingly—”

“Gisetta ran away with a Guardian,” Mynarra interrupted him. “It was quite the scandal.”

Dzur-Khan stared at her open-mouthed.

“Mostly it was the gallies who were ten or younger when… when it happened, who were taken,” the woman I assumed to be either Secylly or Halana, Dzar-Ghan’s sister, said.

Another man arrived, looking a lot like Dzar-Ghan but slightly younger. “From what I have learned so far, Secylly is right. The priests groomed the younger gallies to forget who they were, given other names, and mated to males from towns far away from where they originally came. They didn’t mate many of the higher or older gallies off very often, but when they did, it was to males who promised to keep them hidden.”

He moved to Secylly and embraced her. “I can’t believe it’s you. I missed you.”

“How did you find this out?” Dzar-Ghan demanded.

“Good to see you too, brother.” The other man smirked. “Thlung-Rhan. Dzur-Khan put me in charge of guarding him.”

“So if you are supposed to be guarding him, where is he?” Dzar-Ghan stared at his younger brother.

Unperturbed, the other pointed at a group of Vandruk holding Thlung-Rhan.

A woman ripped herself from a man whom she had been embracing and rushed to us straight for Bzun-Lhan. “Where is my baby? What have you done with my daughter?”