A Deadly Message Delivered (1/3)

Writers: Miriah
Date Posted: 2nd March 2019

Characters: J'ackt, Grevan
Description: Grevan delivers his "message."
Location: Dolphin Cove Weyr
Date: month 9, day 28 of Turn 9

J'ackt

After dimming many of the glows, Grevan waited, shifting from foot to
foot in impatience. He didn't know how much time had passed, but it
seemed like several candlemarks had gone by with little to show for
his time. His hand tightened on the hilt of his blade and he felt
nervous sweat trickle down the back of his neck. In all of his
nineteen turns, he had never known such a mixture of dread,
anticipation, and excitement. He had to strike quickly and in just
the right spot to get it done, but he had not spent the last turn
practicing for this to not do it right.

Damn Lord Corowal! If the high and mighty Lord Holder had done right
by his family in the first place and hadn't been so scared of the
dragon folk, this would have never been necessary! He seethed inwardly
at the injustice of it all. And that ballad that had gone around
afterward had made him sick with fury. It made that holdless
tunnelsnake out to be some flaming hero when _everyone_ who saw his
father knew better. Well, he was going to be the real hero. They'd
praise him at the Hold and ballads would be sung about how he,
Grevan, had avenged his family and brought justice. His fingers
flexed as eagerness pushed aside any other worry. The sound of
footfalls made him go still and crouch, his heart pounding in his
ears.

J'ackt trod down the halls, reading the note once again by the light
of the glows. "J'ackt, meet me in the lower caverns by the last
storage room in the third corridor past the Dining Hall. I've found
something you might be interested in. Cyradis" He frowned at the
feminine script. Why hadn't she simply sent word by Panitath?
Perhaps, newly mated, the queen was occupied, he reasoned. Still, he
was curious. What on Pern could interest him down here?

The lights were dimmed as he strode further and he frowned to himself
as he approached the designated storage room. "Cyradis?" There was no
answer. Suddenly the skin at the back of his neck crawled. He knew
that feeling, the feeling of 'wrongness'. Something was off about...he
spun on his heels.

That sudden turn saved J'ackt from the planned single deadly strike.
Instead of the long dagger being driven in at the base of his neck as
planned, the dagger plowed deeply into his shoulder. Completely
unprepared, he buckled, unable to stop the harsh cry of pain at the
staggering blow, nor the abrupt searing agony of the dagger being
yanked out. **Zith! I need help!** He felt, more than heard the
frantic bugle outside.

Shaffit all! He had missed! With a snarl, Grevan surged forward, and
then triumph glazed his eyes as his target sank to his knees, blood
spilling from the wound in a way that thrilled him. "This is for my
father!" He raised the dagger, preparing to deliver the killing blow.

Through the haze of shocked pain, J'ackt looked up and saw the dim
light glinting off of the metal blade; the reflexes that had helped
him survive on his own might have been slower due to lack of use, but
the sight of the descending blade catapulted them into action. Without
thought, he lunged to the side, the blade missing and throwing his
attacker off balance. J'ackt kicked out immediately, his heel finding
a knee with a satisfying crackle.

Grevan hadn't planned on fighting the dragonrider. He had planned on
a quick, well executed strike and then using the resulting chaos to
mask his escape. He hadn't planned on missing. The lancing pain made
him crumple with a howl and before he could readjust, he found himself
bore backwards by a tackle. Snarling and suddenly afraid, he wildly
stabbed at the man on top of him. He felt the point of his dagger sink
in again, felt the warm of blood spill splatter against his chest,
then found his arm wrenched and hand pinned. "No!"

His attacker outweighed him and was taller, but J'ackt knew he had use
everything he had to get the dagger away. He felt a searing pain
again, knew he had been struck again, and focused on the blade. He
slammed his elbow down, felt the rapid heave as air was expelled and
began slamming the hand clutching the dagger repeatedly against the
stone floor.

He felt the bones of his wrist crack; Grevan screamed in pain and
felt the dagger fall from his fingers. It skittered away across the
stone and he realized that J'ackt had tossed it. Furious, he threw a
punch, but the angle wasn't good and it carried little of his weight
behind it. He was rewarded for the badly thrown blow by J'ackt
gripping his hair and slamming his head back down against the stone.
Painful light flared in his eyes as he tried to struggle to get away,
using his feet to kick off the weight on top of him. It worked, only
for a moment. He rolled, scrambling for the dagger but was slammed
face first down on the stone, J'ackt's full weight on his back.

J'ackt's good arm locked around his attacker's throat. Furious, in
pain, and knowing that he was weakening, J'ackt immediately brought
his hand up in preparation to snap the neck with a vicious twist. Time
seemed to slow down to an infinite crawl as he gripped the man's head,
muscles painfully tensing. It would be so easy just to end it now. To
whip the man's head to the side and be done with it. But images of the
people that had given him a chance here, that he would disappoint
stopped him. N'vanik, Cyradis, Saidrene, Timassa, who looked so much
like his mother... he couldn't bear to see that look in their eyes.
Snarling, he readjusted, locking his arm in a choke hold and struggled
to find enough strength to find the nerve that would end
consciousness. "Help!"

Last updated on the August 22nd 2019

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A Deadly Message Delivered (1/3)