Read Online Checkmate by Katherine Kingston - Free Book Online

wished her well and departed.
    Devonne unfolded the clothes provided and was relieved to
find a shirt of sturdy fabric with elbow-length sleeves and dark pants of the
same fabric, held up by a leather belt. A tunic of heavy leather went over the
shirt. There was an odd headpiece like a leather cap that pulled down over the
ears and fastened across the chin. The outfit wouldn’t win any fashion awards
but was practical for a knife fight where no one was supposed to get seriously
damaged. Thank the stars. She’d had visions of some seriously impractical,
diaphanous thing, especially since a couple of vid stars had recently done
shows where they cavorted on amazing “adventures” wearing ridiculously tiny,
sheer outfits.
    Moments after she’d stepped into the heavy leather boots and
strapped them down to fit her feet, the nearest door opened and a pair of Sangari
guards escorted her out. They traversed a dingy, curving corridor around the
coliseum until they reached a tunnel that led out onto the field.
    The equipment on the central part of the grounds had been
reorganized a bit since the “blooding” she’d looked out on earlier. Mesh
fencing cordoned off a ring about fifty feet in diameter in the center of the
field. Low-growing bluish plants covering the ground felt squishy underfoot.
    A large Sangari warrior-male approached and handed her the
knife he held. “Your weapon.” She took it from him, tested the grip and studied
it. A ridged handle fit securely into the palm of her hand, while a crosspiece
guard prevented her fingers from slipping onto a serrated blade ten inches
long. It wasn’t made of metal but of some other hardened plastic material
nearly as heavy as steel would have been.
    They led her out across the field to the ring. Masses of
Sangari filled the seats. She hadn’t realized their pelts came in such a
variety of colors. Most ranged from a pale honey brown to inky black, but a few
orange, yellow, pale green and lavender ones stood out in places. On the field,
the noise was near deafening, swelling further when the crowd noted the humans
being escorted to the ring.
    Scanning the area, she finally found Raje approaching from
the opposite side. He wore clothing similar to hers. A spark of resentment
flared when she realized he had an escort of four Sangari, where she had only
two. Then she laughed inside at the absurdity of it. But Stars and Flames, the
man looked good. Tall, slim, graceful, he moved with supple power and control.
    His stern expression lightened only slightly as he drew
close enough to lock gazes with her. He held a knife similar to the one she
carried, though his arm hung loosely at his side, the weapon pointing at the
ground. His eyes looked more green than yellow under the light of Sangaria’s
orange sun.
    Their guards brought them into the ring and left them facing
each other in the center. All but one of the Sangari retreated to take up positions
around the outside the fenced-off area.
    The remaining alien stood next to them and said, “Neither of
you leaves the circle before one has drawn blood. Raise your weapons.” When
they did so, he backed off two steps and added, “Start.”
    She watched Raje warily for a moment, trying to gauge what
he wanted to do. She understood what he’d meant about the dance, but she hadn’t
been very good at it then and wondered if she could adapt it adequately now.
He’d better lead as well this time as he had then.
    Raje took a step to the right, then another. He moved
forward, brandishing the knife toward her but not lunging or slicing with it.
Devonne circled to the right around him. She kept her gaze locked with his, the
movement of his blade in her peripheral vision.
    After a few more steps her body started to recall the
footwork of the dance, and she was able to match him step for step. Cheers and
yells of encouragement rang from the stands, but she pushed them to the back of
her awareness. Her concentration stayed fixed on her