Page 135 of Planet Zero
As they all watched, a figure emerged from behind the rocky hill that protected their settlement at the “sunny” side. The Ehr sun was at his back casting his looks in shadow. The man walked with a purpose, and the uneven cadence of his gate brought Addie's heart to a near stop.
The men palmed their weapons but made no move to form the customary protective formation when they recognizing Zoark.
“How is this possible?” Shur muttered. “There were four of them.”
Zoark kept approaching. Soon, Addie was able to discern his features, set into a ferocious scowl. He looked worse for wear, smeared with blood and covered with cuts that oozed blood and bruises that were beginning to swell. He’d lost his shirt, and his scarred, battered body was on full display, muscle play highlighting the power that coursed through his body. His hair, lovingly twisted by Addie into a playful bun, still retained its hold, with chunks of it now escaping, hanging down his grimy face.
In his hand, he held the black axe of the marauders' leader, and he looked like a pagan god of war.
He limped up to Shur. “If you touch her, I’ll kill you.”
The words weren’t a posturing threat. Up close, Zoark’s extreme level of exhaustion was obvious, but even the strong Shur didn’t want to find out just how much juice was left in a body that single-handedly felled five rabid rogues with their own weapons.
Nevertheless, he raised his chin at Zoark. “You’re wounded. You’re in pain.”
Zoark smiled, a truly feral expression on his bruised face. “I’m used to both. You?”
The High Counselor was giving Zoark an intent look. “We didn’t know you could fight.”
Zoark gave the assembly of warriors in front of him a sweeping glance before pegging the High Counselor with the force of his derision. “Why can’t I fight?”
“Because you’re a cripple. Weak!”
Zoark scoffed. “I was never weak.”
Chemmusaayl recovered and went on the offensive, “So you hid your strength from us.”
“I hid nothing,” Zoark spat a bloody wad of saliva. “All you had to do was put me in the training ring, and you’d have known. Why didn’t you?”
“The chief decides who is to train and fight,” Chemmusaayl smoothly explained.
All eyes toggled between the chief and the High Counselor as people waited for either to provide an explanation. The moment was growing tense.
But Addie felt buoyed, floating on air. Filled to the brim with life.
She raised her arm up. “I will not mate Shur.”
Her declaration switched the focus back to Zoark and Shur.
Eyes flickering with uncertainty, Shur stepped aside, conceding.
“This matter will need to be decided by the chief and his council,” Chemmusaayl intoned.
“This matter is finished,” Zoark interrupted and propped up the axe, leaning on it to relieve some of the weight from his bad leg. “If youhaveto make a decision, decide on what you want to do about the marauders. We can’t exist like this.”
Chief Net’ok stepped forward. “Your place in the tribe doesn't give you a voice, Zoark. But given your victory over the marauding For, I will allow you to speak.”
“I will speak anyway, Chief.”
Net’ok didn’t care for Zoark’s flippant attitude. His eyes flinty, he bored Zoark with his gaze.
“I don’t mean to disrespect you,” Zoark said quietly. “But things need your attention. The marauders have grown in numbers. Where before there were many small clusters, they have now consolidated. They organized. They won’t leave us alone. We have to act!”
“Act?” Net’ok was frowning. “A battle?”
“It is the only way. They won’t give us peace - we have to go and get it from them.”
Zoark’s forceful words had a convincing effect on people. His battered but unbreakable warrior body was awe-inspiring. And his low-key, calming authority that Addie had long known to be a trademark Zoark feature, filled people with purpose.
