Raptor and Rapture Ch. 02: Demon Princess

He had nowhere to run either. Both oversized carnivores would be able to run from one side of the arena to the other within moments, and their bodies could smash through any of the barricades with little effort.

As he approached the first dinosaur, Tarquin gained a little clarity, however. He wasn't really fighting the dinosaurs, but their riders, and unless they'd taught them to act on their own accord (the creatures were not as intelligent as they were large) he wouldn't even have to hurt them unless it was absolutely necessary.

The lancer thrust down at him immediately when he came into range, and Tarquin narrowly missed it's tip with a lean as he stepped back. The full height of the creature was at least twenty feet, and though the rider was sitting at the creatures back, their lance was still several lengths longer than Tarquin's own body.

The mercenary attempted to circle around the creature, but the lancer pulled up on his reigns and the beast turned, much faster than Tarquin thought it would be a able to. He dove aside as the lancer jabbed at him, once more avoiding being skewered all too closely.

For most fighters, such a long weapon would be clumsy and unwieldy, but the lancers were trained to use it with deadly precision. Tarquin stepped and span around several more jabs, doing everything he could to get under the creatures. The lance itself was not rounded: it was more like a harpoon, and it had a barbed hook that faced the opposite end and a triangulated shape. Tarquin thought he might be able to grab onto it, but he wasn't keen on the idea of getting his hands sliced open when the lancer pulled back.

The second lancer was approaching from the opposite end of the arena, and it's huge mount was still causing the ground to shake a little with each footfall. There was no possible way that both of them would be able to maneuver around each other if they were close, but it also meant that they would probably be able to crush him simply by backing him into a corner.

So Tarquin made a desperate move, like most of his moves tended to be, and deliberately stood in the same place for just a moment longer than was comfortable. The lancer attacked from his box, and Tarquin allowed the point to come dangerously close to his shoulder and neck as he leaned aside quickly. He span around the lance and hooked the chain beneath the barb before dropping the scythe in his right hand. Afterwards, he ran directly towards the tail of the massive creature, hoping that the small distraction would be enough to get him to his destination.

The chain grinded against the lance's barb with a bright sound as the lancer pulled up to regain his weapon's control. The chain gave way to its end at the scythe's handle and jammed itself beneath the lance's barb, which gave Tarquin just enough time to get right out of range and closer to the carnivore.

The giganotosaurus was longer than it was tall, and it's thick, powerful tail was almost as long as the rest of its body. Once more, the mercenary didn't really have a plan, but he knew that he needed to get on top of the creature in order to take down the lancer.

He let go of the second scythe as he felt the chain being pulled roughly, and he jumped forward and grabbed the very tip of the dinosaur's tail. Normally, there wouldn't have been anything for him to grab onto, but the most vulnerable and accessible parts of the animal were covered in plate and chain armor, and he dug his fingers into whatever he could while he hefted himself upwards.

The screams of the crowd were almost deafening as the reckless mercenary made his way up the creature's tail, but the lancer was not about to let him accomplish his goal so easily.

With a certain movement of his reigns, the armored lancer commanded his mount, and Tarquin grabbed on tightly as he felt the creature begin to swish its tail around violently.

"Gah!" Tarquin protested as the world began to blur around him. The movements weren't fast, but they were powerful, and if he lost his grip he would go flying and probably not survive the fall.

After a moment, the swishing stopped, but it started again immediately, and this time the creature's tail was whipping up and down.

Tarquin felt his fingers slipping as he grit his teeth and tried desperately to hold on. One by one, he could feel the tips of his fingers sliding through the chain mesh he was gripping, until finally one of his hands slipped altogether. With a shout, he slid to one side of the dinosaur's tail and managed grab onto the edge of a plate section.

The lancer turned in his box and looked for any signs of his opponent. His head snapped back to his comrade, who was still making his way across the arena. The man was signalling him, but he could barely make out what he was trying to convey. The armored lancer assumed that the man had fallen directly beneath him, and he pulled down on his reigns immediately.

The giganotosaurus rumbled throatily as it leaned forward and stomped several times. The sound of its great pads smashing against the hard, packed dirt reverberated through the arena, and a cloud of dust rose up after the creature had stopped.

The lancer readied the short sword on his back and looked around before he heard something behind him. He attempted to draw his sword as he turned sharply, but Tarquin was already springing toward him.

The mercenary had monkied his way beneath the creature and had made his way up to its side just as the stomping had begun. He took a guess as to which direction the lancer would looking, and he'd guessed right.

Now the rider was directly in front of him. Tarquin had no weapons drawn; he hadn't even had an opportunity to draw his dagger. His armor was paltry compared to that of his opponent's and he was far more worn out.

Thankfully, Tarquin was man who knew how to fight without weapons, and once more he improvised with a trick that he'd used several times before. He sprawled out his index and middle fingers before he made the rigid. With a grunt, he thrust his hand out to the man's helmet, slipped his fingers right through the eyehole slots, and poked the lancer in his eyes.

The lancer shouted as he dropped his lance and swung forward blindly. Tarquin ducked beneath the blow and wove his arm beneath the man's crotch before lifting him upwards completely and throwing him out of the box with a shout.

The lancer bounced off the armored edges of his own mount before tumbling down to the ground and crunching loudly. Tarquin had no idea of he was dead or not, but he very much doubted that the man was going to be getting up anytime soon.

The crowd, of course, was screaming wildly, but the mercenary barely heard them as he saw his last opponent flick their reigns. At a full run, both the rider and his mount would be on Tarquin in less than ten seconds, and the mercenary did the only thing he could think to do.

He span in the box, took up the reigns that controlled the great beast, and flicked them in his hands.

Somewhat to his surprise, the giganotosaurus responded immediately. It wasn't unlike riding Axis, Tarquin thought, though Axis was much closer to his own size and didn't weigh several dozen tons. As the animal lurched forward into a sprint, Tarquin spied the long lance dangling from a rope at one side of the box. He supposed it made sense that such a long, easy to lose weapon would be anchored to the box, so he took it up and lowered it toward his opponent as he turned with it.

The crowd went completely silent as the two giant carnivores ran toward each other. The lancer raised his long weapon, and Tarquin's eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

What the fuck am I doing! He screamed at himself inwardly. There was no possible way he could win a jousting match against someone so experienced, even if every positive x-factor worked in his favor. The two giant beasts were seconds apart from clashing, and Tarquin made a split decision that would determine his outcome.

The lancer was a seasoned soldier, a demon, of course, and not actually a prisoner of the arena. He was a man who'd participated in many tournaments, and he would have been able to say in that moment, without a doubt, that his victory was sealed. The mercenary's form was shoddy and amateur, and it was going to be all too easy to break his form and knock him clean off the mount. A bit of this ran through the lancer's head, but that was before he saw Tarquin drop the lance and leap up onto the beast's neck.

Every eye in the arena was on him as Tarquin released the reigns and climbed onto the dinosaur's head. Both mounts were moving at full speed, and neither of them would be able to stop before the inevitable pass. In true jousting fashion, his opponent's trajectory was slightly off to his left side, and as they approached, Tarquin crouched on top of the beast and leapt clear over to the other.

The lancer's eyes widened through the helmet as he saw the man falling toward him. He was already dropping the lance, but there was no time to draw his sword as the reckless mercenary careened down into him, all fists and legs.

the two fighters struggled as the creatures brushed tightly against each other with a loud, metallic clash of their heavy armor. Tarquin had no idea which way was up as he pummeled the armored man everywhere he could. His fists slammed against both plate and chain as he began to look for openings, and his opponent was clawing at him in a like manner, neither one of them really knowing what was happening.

The lancer grabbed Tarquin's wrists and tried to force him back, but the mercenary brought up a quick knee and struck the man hard between his legs. The lancer grunted and loosened his grip, and Tarquin ripped his arms free and clapped both of his hands over the sides of his opponents full helmet. Though the plate was strong, it did nothing to stop the force and the noise as the sound rang painfully through the lancer's ears, and Tarquin drove his elbow forward and pinned it to the man's throat.

"Concede!" Tarquin bellowed as he leaned into the lancer with all of his weight. "Concede or I'll crush your throat!"

The man attempted to raise his arms, but was unable to as he choked violently.

"Your word is good enough for me!" Tarquin yelled, loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Say it!"

The man beneath the helmet winced as he choked, and Tarquin applied even more pressure, "This isn't worth getting killed over, damn you," he uttered lowly through his teeth. "Concede and live to fight another day... there is no glory in killing me, I'm just a raptor rider."

The man's eyes narrowed as he croaked, "C, C...ede."

Tarquin barely heard the man, but it was enough for him. He lifted himself away from the fighter completely and turned his back, "The soldier has conceded!"

It had been a long time since the denizens of Makdesh had cheered so loudly, and as Tarquin raised his hand, their cheering intensified.

The mercenary was more relieved than anything, and instead of feeling triumphant he simply felt exhausted. he'd almost forgotten why he even did it in the first place, but his purpose rushed to him a moment later as he glanced up at the box seat where the princess was.

To his surprise, Crizet was gone.

Gazin, however, was still standing in exactly the same place, and as the crowd howled, the king of Makdesh was decidedly silent as he stared down at the mercenary.

"In a turn of unprecedented skill... and a little luck, the raptor rider stands victorious!" The arena master commented excitedly. "Congratulations to everyone who profited from this incredible battle; for everyone else, better luck next time!"

Tarquin huffed as he took hold of the reins on the now stopped giganotosaurus. Once more, like he did with Axis, he pulled them downwards and the creature dipped forward.

"Raptor rider," the lancer heaved as he got to his feet. The two men were still standing very close to each other, and Tarquin never doubted for a moment that the soldier would try anything underhanded after his concession.

"Hm?" Tarquin turned to the man tiredly as the dinosaur continued to lower itself.

The soldier coughed, obviously still trying to recover his wind, "Gazin is a proud man... and a ferocious father. He will not let you take his daughter so easily."

Tarquin almost laughed, "You call this easy?" He glanced around at the wake of carnage that he'd left, "I'm flattered that you think this was easy for me, but..."

"No." The soldier took his first full breath and shook his head slightly, "I mean... be careful. Gazin is an honorable man, but I've served him long enough to know that even he can be blinded by rage."

There was no malice in the man's voice, and Tarquin nodded respectfully, "I appreciate it."

The fighter nodded in return, "Fine. Now...get the hell off my mount."

The mercenary did chuckle at that as he stepped out of the box, "Gladly."

The aftermath of a long or particularly grueling battle was always surreal for Tarquin: One moment, you were facing off against someone or another, and literally every move you made might be the difference between life and death; the next, you were walking down a quiet, empty hallway.

The stone halls of the arena's preparation area were forebodingly quiet compared to the cacophony that was still going on outside. The mercenary could barely hear any of it as he walked further and further away from the large gate that lead out of the arena. His body was less tired than his mind, and all he really wanted to do was take a hot bath.

His thoughts were interrupted as he turned the corner and faced three men that were leaning against the wall. He stopped suddenly, and he could tell by their demeanor that they weren't there to chat with him.

"What can I do for you gentlemen?" He ventured carefully as he shifted his bodyweight slightly. He still had no weapon, save for the small dagger, and he was in no condition for another fight.

All three men were dressed in dark, tight fitting chainmail, and one of them popped himself off the wall and took a step toward Tarquin, "His Majesty would like to request that you forego your previously agreed upon arena prize."

Tarquin furrowed his brow, "Ah, he does, does he? And what, pray tell, is he offering me instead?"

"Money, steel, anything else; within reason."

Tarquin grinned, "And if I refuse?"

"You won't," the demon man answered him as his two cohorts moved off of the wall and stood beside him.

"I see, so it's that sort of situation," Tarquin frowned slightly. At that point, he'd come so far that he wanted to fulfill his quest as a matter of principle, but it really did seem like things weren't going to be as straightforward as he'd hoped. He was about to answer when he heard someone shout.

"Stop this at once!" It was the princess, Crizet, and she wasn't alone. As she walked down the opposite end of the hall, two demon women followed behind her. Both of them held short, curved swords, and Tarquin could tell even from a distance that they must have been apart of the princess' personal guard. They were wearing light, silver chain armor, and their horns were ground down to spiraled points.

The three men turned in surprise as the one who was addressing Tarquin nodded, "Your majesty... always a pleasure to see you."

Crizet's eyes were filled with anger as she approached, "What is happening here, explain to me at once."

The would be assassin looked extremely uncomfortable, "My lady... your father simply wished..."

"I know what he wishes," she said coldly. "But he is not the one who has made a deal with this man, is he? Go back to him and tell him that, unlike some people, I am one who fulfills the promises I make."

"My lady, we..."

"Listen well to me, killer," Crizet stepped between the two assassins right up to the man in the middle, "I am not going to repeat myself. Leave here at once or we will remove you by force... unless you'd like to test your steel against ours?"

Though they outnumbered the princess's guard, all three men looked less than eager to engage. Even Tarquin would have thought twice against going up against either woman, and as he looked them over, he concluded that if he were facing both of them at the same time, he would almost definitely lose.

The three assassins exchanged looks for a moment before the one in the middle nodded once, "As you wish, majesty."

The brushed past Tarquin silently, none of them so much as looking at him as they rounded the corner and disappeared.

"Follow me closely," Crizet told the mercenary without making eye contact with him. "Others may come, and in greater numbers. I have a place prepared that's nearby."

Tarquin did as he was told and stepped in behind her as they began to walk in the direction she'd come from.

"Are you in much pain?" She asked him suddenly as they approached the exit.

"No, my lady," Tarquin answered quietly, beginning to feel awkward and a little guilty about the entire situation.

She nodded, but said nothing as the four made their way outside.

The streets were cluttered with people returning home from the fight. It was clear who had won or lost by the expression on their faces, and Tarquin tried to keep his head down as he followed his personal escort through the ever darkening street.

It wasn't long before they came upon a plain looking wood and stone building. Two more of Crizet's guards stood at the entrance, and the princess nodded to them as they opened the door for her.

"These are my personal guard; no one will disturb us here," Crizet told him as they made their way into a well lit room. Several more women were standing here and there at attention, all of them fully armed and each looking equally as formidable as the women that had led him there.

"Thank you for accompanying me," the princess smiled at her two escorts, " I know that I can count on you to see that we are not disturbed."

One of the women bowed, "No one will enter here, not even the king, my lady."

She nodded once more and glanced back at Tarquin, "Follow," she said flatly as she continued onward.

He did so, and Crizet led him up a flight of stairs that opened up into a narrow hallway.

A girl met her there and bowed lowly, "My lady, everything is ready, just as you asked."

"Thank you, Rana. In exactly one hour, please bring some salves and dressings to the bath."

"It will be done," Rana curtsied. She walked past Tarquin and looked up at him, giving him the slightest of smiles as she brushed past him.

"This way, Tarquin," Crizet said emotionlessly as walked forward once more.

The mercenary followed her once more as he was led through another door. The room within was stunningly decorated with deep red throw pillows and linens, and hundreds of small, vanilla scented burned on every side of the room.

Tarquin was still wearing his armor, and he felt the sheen of sweat and dirt on him poignantly as he cleared his throat, "My lady, I should probably..."

"Close the door," she told him softly as she faced him. Something seemed a bit different about her, though what exactly he couldn't tell.

He did as he was asked and shut the door, "My lady, I apologize about..."

He stopped talking as he turned and felt her lips on his. She pressed her body against his and bit his lower lip with a harsh sigh as he nearly fell back in surprise.

"I'm angry with you," she told him quietly as she pulled away for a moment. "I'm upset that you've put me in this position, but...I've never been so excited in all my life. Half of me wants to kill you myself, the other half..." she trailed off as she looked away from him. "If you must take me, promise me that you won't treat me like a porcelain doll."