Space Pirate Charlie: The Dragon Mage Book 2 Read online

  “Fingers off,” Tuktuk chided him. “That’s only if he leaves. Otherwise, you have to eat with the others.”

  “Oh, twist my arm,” Charlie joked.

  Moments later, a lean, human-looking man with black hair graying at the temples strode into the kitchen. Charlie immediately knew who he must be. Visla Maktan, his new owner. The visla had a great confidence in his walk, bearing the air of a man utterly sure of himself no matter the situation. His skin, Charlie noted, was pinkish. In fact, aside from the slightly glowing irises of his deep blue eyes, he appeared quite human. So much so that Charlie couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps he might be a distantly related species, somehow.

  Adding to his overall appearance was the quality of his clothing. Fitted, clean, with crisp lines. Fashionable, but not ostentatious. Besides that, he wore little adornment to show his wealth or power. Charlie did note, however, the thick konuses worn on each wrist and the pair of slaaps riding on his belt. Despite the immense natural power flowing through him, it seemed Visla Maktan also liked to travel well-armed, even within his own property. Whether it was out of caution or merely habit was the question.

  “Visla Maktan, I did not hear you arrive,” Tuktuk said, quickly wiping his hands and slightly bowing his head.

  “I should have told you I was coming, Tuktuk. My apologies for sneaking up on you like that,” he said with a warm smile. “And I see the talk of the system is with you this morning. Charlie,” he said warmly, placing his hands on his new acquisition’s shoulders. “It is so good to see you up and well. I am Visla Yoral Maktan, your new patron. I’ve been meaning to come see you, now that you’ve recovered from the event.”

  “It is an honor, Visla.”

  “Oh, the pleasure is all mine. You’re quite a celebrity, you know. That was an impressive performance you put on at the arena. Quite the show, indeed. Your feats are being talked about far and wide.”

  “Uh, thank you. Though, to be honest, I really didn’t know what I was doing.”

  “Didn’t know what he was doing,” Maktan laughed. “Did you hear that, Tuktuk? The first man to fly upon a Zomoki’s back in centuries, and one who cast through the protective shell no less, and he says he didn’t know what he was doing. Oh, that’s just marvelous,” he said with a warm and amused grin. “We have much to discuss, now that you are part of the family here, Charlie. But first things first. I realize this is all new to you, and I know my guards had previously given you access to the garden outside, but I think it’s time to forego the usual newcomer restrictions and expand on that, don’t you? Come, let me show you the grounds, then we can discuss what exactly your new position entails.”

  “Thank you, Visla. I’d very much like that,” Charlie replied, feeling increasingly confident that this time he had finally fallen into a good situation, rather than the usual neck-deep mess in which he always seemed to manage to land.

  The man of the house grabbed a pastry from the counter as they walked, then opened the little side door. “Delicious, as always, Tuktuk.”

  “Thank you, Visla.”

  “Come along, Charlie. This way,” he said, leading Charlie out into the warmth of the afternoon sun.

  Things were looking up, and even though he knew he shouldn’t, Charlie briefly allowed himself to feel content, even if it was just for a moment.

  Chapter Three

  The loamy soil smelled of fresh vegetation and clean air. It was quite a change from the equally verdant, but swamp-tinged aroma of the land surrounding Ser Baruud’s gladiator training compound. Charlie realized that after several years living there, he had become used to the odd combination of smells. Here, however, the air was nothing but sweet and clean.

  “You’ve been rather quiet. Is your mind troubled, Charlie?” Maktan asked as they walked the perimeter of the innermost garden.

  “No, but thank you for noticing. It’s just been a long time since I’ve been anywhere as beautiful and serene as this,” he said. “Back home I took free time in nature for granted. Now I’m just making the effort to appreciate moments like this when they present themselves.”

  The powerful wizard smiled at him warmly. Almost fatherly.

  “I can only imagine the hardships you endured to arrive where you are today, and it gives me great pleasure that something I must admit I take for granted––something as simple as a mere walk around my estate––can provide you with such joy. I assume your training grounds were less than pleasant. I hear many gladiator facilities are quite brutal in their daily torment of the students.”

  Charlie smiled at the memory.

  “Actually, Ser Baruud was a kind teacher.”

  “Oh?”

  “Not soft, mind you. We trained hard, and went to bed sore as often as not. But he was tough on us as a kindness, of sorts.”

  “Really?” Visla Maktan said, his curiosity piqued. “Do tell.”

  “It’s quite simple, really. He demanded the absolute best from us at all times, but not out of some sadistic love of tormenting us, but because he wanted to see us succeed. As you are well aware, at a certain level of bout, it is far more than just your pride at stake.”

  “Like the one you so recently won.”

  “Yes. He wanted to ensure that his students had the best chance at survival.”

  “To be fair, the owners who sent their fighters to him would cease their patronage if he failed to produce quality gladiators.”

  “True, but Ser Baruud performs his job as a free man, not indentured in any manner. He earned his position, and he continues to train the next generation out of respect for the arts and a desire to help those he deems worthy.”

  “And he deemed you to be, obviously.”

  “I was fortunate to have been sent to him. And yes, I trained hard enough and with an open enough mind for him to see value in teaching me.”

  “Interesting.”

  The visla veered off toward a wooded area just on the other side of the small flower garden they’d been passing through. It seemed Charlie was getting the full tour of the grounds.

  I like this guy. Seems like a decent sort, he mused as they stepped into the cool shade of the low trees.

  A soft rustling out of time with the breeze made the hair on Charlie’s neck stand on end.

  “Die, scum!”

  A trio of masked men leapt down from the branches, two wielding clubs, the third a staff. Charlie immediately shifted into a fighting stance, putting himself between the attackers and the visla.

  Three. No blades. No magic, he noted.

  The men all came at them at once, weapons swishing through the air in a blur of motion. They were well-trained, attacking in unison, while keeping their weapons from tangling with each other.

  Charlie knew immediately they would be overrun in moments, pushed back by the overwhelming nature of the assault, so he did what they least expected. He charged them.

  The long staff was his best bet, he reasoned. While the clubs had less reach, the staff’s length allowed him the leverage to use speed and surprise to his advantage.

  Hard wood cracked along Charlie’s shoulder as he dove in, closing the gap. The blow stung, but he had moved fast enough to manage to negate the impact as he slipped within the staff’s arc. A quick kick to the knee, followed by a near-simultaneous elbow to the masked face, and Charlie had the man disarmed and laid out on the dirt in an instant.

  He snatched the man’s staff and swung it wide, driving the other two men back with glancing blows as he once again stepped between them and the visla. The attackers only hesitated a split-second as they regrouped, then launched an even faster attack, forcing Charlie to take several steps back as he frantically parried their swings, the clubs narrowly missing him as they whistled through the air.

  An off-balance twist would have made any other man an easy target, but Charlie had noticed something interesting about the men’s movements. For all the frantic swinging and hollering, they were actually very precise in their movements. These
men were trained and disciplined, despite their appearances.

  An unusual idea had popped into Charlie’s head. He just hoped his sneaky feint would work.

  Seeing their opponent stumble into such a tactically foolish position, the attackers quickly shifted their positions to seize the opportunity to better gain the advantage and end the fight.

  That was precisely what Charlie had intended. Years of chess-like martial training with his gladiator master had taught him to fight with more than brute force. And being constantly outnumbered and outclassed had forced him to adapt his fighting style. It was Ser Baruud’s unconventional instruction that would now serve him well when he needed it most.

  Charlie allowed the first club’s blow to make contact, falling over and rolling with the impact rather than fighting back. As he did, he brought the staff up sharply with a crisp snap, using the additional velocity of his roll to drive it into his target with even greater force.

  The hard wooden tip caught what he hoped was the solar plexus of the farthest of the two attackers––with alien physiology one could never be entirely sure––the extended reach of the staff surprising both of his assailants as he took down the farther rather than nearest one.

  Quickly, Charlie sprang backward, twisting as he did, whipping the staff in a short arc directly into the remaining man’s head. He crumpled in a heap at Charlie’s feet.

  “We should get out of here. There may be more,” Charlie urged.

  The visla, he noted, was entirely unconcerned. Even amused, one could say. The slaaps remained in their holders on his hips, and his konuses had not flared with even the slightest magical charge.

  What the hell?

  A broad smile grew on Visla Maktan’s face as he watched Charlie digest the events. An amused laugh snuck past his lips.

  “Ah, yes. He’s figuring it out,” he said to no one in particular. Or so it seemed. “What do you think, Dinuk?”

  From the shadows of a large tree, another man stepped forward into the light.

  How did I miss that one?

  The man had a hard edge to him, and eyes that seemed to scan all areas at once despite their seemingly fixed stare. It was a neat trick, Charlie had to admit. This one was a whole different class compared to the masked attackers he had just fought.

  “I think these men are in need of additional training in group combat tactics,” he finally replied, kicking one of the fallen assailants. “I will send them to the camps for a refresher.”

  The way he said it, Charlie had a feeling a trip to the camps would not be a pleasant experience.

  “You see? I told you he was exceptional,” Visla Maktan said. “Such an unusual fighting style. Did you notice his use of misdirection as well as unconventional staff work? Most interesting.”

  “Yes, Visla, it was interesting, indeed,” the man said, striding closer.

  “Charlie, I would like you to meet Dinuk. He is my head of security, not only for my person, but the entire estate.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” Charlie said, holding out his hand.

  Dinuk looked at it with curious distaste.

  “You’ll have to forgive him. He is rooted in the old ways, and social interaction with slaves, even those as special as yourself, is a bit outside his sense of decorum.” He fixed Dinuk with a casual smile. “Now, do be polite to our new guest and shake his hand.”

  Reluctantly, Dinuk did as he was asked.

  “There. Much better. You know, I was thinking, perhaps we could have Charlie show some of those moves to your men. I’m sure they would enjoy learning some new techniques from our unusual guest.”

  He hid it well, but Charlie could see the flash of annoyance in the bodyguard’s eyes.

  “Of course, Visla. I’m sure arrangements can be made for your latest acquisition to provide a demonstration, at some point.”

  Only a very dense man would have missed the undertone of distaste in his voice, but Visla Maktan either didn’t notice it or didn’t care.

  “Excellent. Very good, indeed. You two will have to discuss that in coming days. But for now, let us continue our walk. There is more I wish to show you, Charlie.”

  They started off down the path, Dinuk falling in behind them.

  “That won’t be necessary, Dinuk. I’m in good hands, but thank you.”

  He followed his employer’s orders and stopped in his tracks, watching as the visla carried on as if the test had never even occurred. Charlie, for his part, was acutely aware of the vibe in the air. He just hoped the visla hadn’t made him a new enemy.

  Chapter Four

  There was a tranquil serenity to the air as Yoral Maktan showed his new acquisition around the estate. All of the creatures seemed totally at peace within the grounds, relaxed and without a care in the world. Given the powerful visla’s abilities, it was no wonder. For a predator to attempt to harm any of the flora or fauna under his protection would mean a hasty demise.

  It was this iron fist wrapped with a loving touch that gave all of those under Visla Maktan’s care––and ownership––a certain degree of freedom. Freedom from fear and stress. The luxury of performing their duties to the best of their abilities without worry or doubt.

  As they walked, the older, powerful man answering a mere slave’s questions as if they were equals, Charlie felt perhaps this was what the disciples of great teachers like Gandhi or Buddha experienced.

  Much as he had enjoyed Ser Baruud’s tutelage, Charlie now, amazingly, found himself in an improved living situation.

  “And over this way are the orchards. When the fruit is in season, you have free rein to gather what you wish. But do not pick excessively. Waste is not permitted on my grounds.”

  “Of course,” Charlie said. “It’s a remarkable estate you have. Really. And I want to thank you again for taking the time to show it to me personally. I realize the gap in our status––”

  “Is a legitimate issue outside these walls, and you would do well to remember your place if we should venture from these grounds. I am a visla, and must be treated as such in public. However, we are home now, and, in the comfort of my estate, I prefer a far more relaxed work environment.”

  “I can’t tell you what a relief that is. When I was first captured and forced into slavery, the conditions were difficult, to say the least.”

  “Ah, yes. The infamous Captain Tür,” Maktan said with a hint of venom. “That man has a nose for talent, I’ll give him that. But he also treats his charges with too heavy a hand, in my opinion. As they say, you get more success with nectar than with bitters.”

  Charlie laughed. “We have a similar saying on my world.”

  “Rightly so, I’d think. I imagine most civilized worlds have similar beliefs, at least in rough form. Obviously, cultural and evolutionary differences would lead to some variables.”

  “Funny,” Charlie said. “For a moment, you sounded more like a scientist than a wizard. I mean, visla. Different worlds, different words.”

  “Ah, yes. Tuktuk shared with me much of what you had told him about your home during your time as laborers together, while you were mending from the bout. Your world sounds unusual, to say the least, and such different terminology.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “Well, you have plenty of time to tell me, now that you are feeling better. You slept for many days, you know. The spell the overseers of the bout on Gilea were forced to cast is a rather brutal piece of work.”

  “Believe me, I know. Firsthand,” he added, rubbing his head. “It all happened so quickly, I didn’t quite know what hit me. One minute we were flying high, fighting off the others, then that defensive spell went all sideways on us, and the next thing we knew, they had unleashed some sort of stun spell.”

  “Yes, the safety protocol. You somehow cast your unusual spell so forcefully that it pierced the protective barrier. Did you know it would do that?”

  “Not at the time. I was kind of preoccupied.”

  “As a gladiator woul
d be, I would think. Especially in a situation like that. And what ever possessed you to climb up on that beast’s back? It could have killed you in an instant.”

  “I can’t really say,” Charlie lied. He liked Visla Maktan, but until he understood what had happened better himself, he thought it wise to keep the whole talking dragon thing to himself. “It seemed safer than fighting, outnumbered, on the ground, and I guess she felt likewise.”

  “Fascinating,” Visla Maktan said as they neared a low stone wall bordering the orchard.

  As they walked closer, Charlie felt a heat build in his collar, every step closer causing it to grow hotter and hotter.

  “Oh, how silly of me,” Yoral Maktan said apologetically. “Sometimes I forget the effect the collars have on my servants. You see, this wall surrounds the central areas of my lands. Mind you, all you can see all around is mine as well, but the heart of my estate lies within this wall.”

  “And that’s our boundary,” Charlie said.

  “Yes.”

  “Like a dog collar and an invisible fence.”

  “I do not know what a dog is, but if it is a servile creature, then I suppose the comparison is apt. But come, let us return to the residence halls via a different path. I think you’ll like the gardens we will pass along the way,” Maktan said, leading them on a new route.

  They walked a while before Charlie felt comfortable enough to ask the question that had been nagging him since he first met the man.

  “Visla Maktan? I wonder if I might ask a question?”

  “Of course, Charlie. I encourage enlightened discussion, even between master and servant.”

  “Well, that’s the thing. It seems you have a full staff, and all of them are good at their jobs, but all I’m trained to do is fight and carry things. While I am incredibly grateful to have been brought here, I still can’t help but wonder what good I can be to you.”

  Visla Maktan hesitated, looking for the right words.

  “You are, how shall I put it? A unique type of asset. While you may not seem to fit into my normal retinue, I saw something in you that day at the bout on Gilea. You were a fine gladiator, certainly, but I’ve seen better. No offense.”