Hunted: The Warrior Chronicles #2 (23 page)

“A much better chance. We have fewer, but the greatness of the Old Blood is stacked in our favor,” Burson continued. “There is another element of the Old Blood, one not so rare as mental power. It is enhanced physical prowess. One does not have to possess the
Gift
to harness the Old Blood’s other attributes. Much of the top tier of the Graygual is built with individuals possessing this physical prowess. This person is faster, stronger, and more adaptable. They are naturally athletic, and think well on the move. Their bodies alone are a superpower.” Burson’s laughing eyes hit Cayan. “You have a great supply of that blood within your city, Cayan. You are breeding it without knowing it. Its strength festers within your walls. More than I have seen in a great many places. Look at you, for example. You are above the rest, even Shanti, in your strength, power and skill. I bet you barely had to try to be the best. Nothing was beyond your reach.

“You two have these warrior traits, in addition to your mental traits. The Inkna do not. They do not excel in fighting, even when they train for it. They are dismal, at best. And so, they put all their faith in their mental ability. They band together, they attempt to breed stronger powers, but they focus solely on their mind.”

“Again, they have a huge army,” Cayan persisted. “They don’t have to fight. Not with an elite frontline to take or push the attack.”

Burson gave that damned smile. “Wrong. The mental power works best with an intimate understanding of the body. You have to envision what it is you want to do, and your power will react to these demands. To heal with it, you need to understand the art of healing. To fight, it is best to physically understand how to fight. Shanti and Cayan, you are both very detailed in your attacks with your mental power—Shanti more so, because of the type of power she possess. But Cayan, you understand driving the attack, the end result you desire, and your power shows that beautifully.

“The Inkna are more general with their power: gouge the eyes; rake the throat. These are all painful, sure, but they are not as effective against someone who knows how to block an attack and counter with speed, agility, and experience. A fighter already has the conditioning that lends itself to mental warfare. With my
Gift
, I envision smothering the brain. I put a blanket over those I want to cut off from their power, or put up a shield—an invisible barrier I’ve envisioned—around those I want to protect. It is all visual.”

Shanti sighed loudly. She dropped her hand from her chin. Her arm fell across her lap. “So, with the Inkna proclaiming himself Chosen, I can work with my power better, I can fight, but…”

“You don’t have a huge army to protect you,” Cayan finished.

“Right. I can find him, I can kill him, but the Elders will have their laugh when I try to return home, because Xandre’s army will be waiting. Fascinating, Burson, I am so glad we’ve had this chat. It’s really shed light on things. Now, since you’ve thoroughly ruined my night, let’s get to you. Who are you? Where do you come from and how come you know so much?”

“And while we’re at it, what is Wanderer?” Rohnan chimed in.

Burson laughed up at the sky. “And now we get to the meat of it.”

“Lovely.” Shanti leaned back and looked to the side at the looming trees dancing in the flickering light.

“The Wanderer is the beginning. Like a prophet, in some cultures. Some might call her a doomsayer, but to many, she is the bringer of hope. In a time of great darkness, comes the shining light. I was one of many to study the coming of this person. I grew up in a small village south of Chesna, Xandre’s home town. We were among the first to fall under his rule. For a while he brought prosperity and growth to us, and many others. Wealth and power were granted to many. Our young joined his armies, and our old cheered them on. But he is an excellent manipulator, and soon it became apparent that his goals and interests weren’t in our best interest. We were just a means to greater power. When he had that power, and we were no longer useful, he turned his attentions from us. That was when the famine struck. Disease followed. The livelihood of our village crumbled without the brightest and strongest to hold us up. Xandre had taken those away.

“My
Gift
, my real
Gift
, started in full force when Xandre first came speaking of wealth and power. It took a while to realize it, but I could see glimpses of what was to come. Of choices and decisions that should be made in order to bend my path to a predictable future. At the time, I knew not to trust Xandre. Not to join his growing empire. I knew that my duty lay in finding, guiding, and helping the Wanderer. So I went to our old house of records and sorted through everything I could find on the myth of the Wanderer. I’d grown up thinking she was a children’s tale about a beautiful young princess who granted wishes to good little girls and boys. But when I found some scrolls, mostly forgotten like many old things, a new shape took form. Of a broken warrior. Of a doubting savior. I made notes, took down all that was relevant, and began to travel the land, finding all the information I could.

“I’ve met many. A great many. And through my exploits, I’ve found those who knew about the coming of the Wanderer. I have joined groups of people watching the signs, noticing the unrest, and wondering if I would be the lucky one to guide the Wanderer through the darkness so that she may show us the light. And look—here I am.”

“Yes, look. Here you are. So Xandre knows you have the
Seer Gift
, but didn’t guard you himself?” Shanti asked.

Burson shook his head. “Oh no, he thinks my
Gift
is restricted to deadening mental power. Very few know of my
Seer
abilities. If they did, I would be hunted like you.”

“You are hunted like me.”

Burson tilted his head in contemplation. “Quite right. Yes, you are right. Well then, I guess I’ve landed where I was meant to be.”

“Where are you guiding the Wanderer to?” Cayan asked. “What is your plan?”

“My plan unravels as does this journey,” Burson answered. “As choices are put before us, I must direct you in the best path. My
Gift
shows me that path as it is presented. I believe this is why I have been chosen to guide.”

“And this Wanderer, she…” Shanti let her voice trail.

“Why, she gathers her army.” Burson laughed. “Xandre creates enemies by the masses. And like moths, the masses will drift toward the flame. The Wanderer must make her journey across the land to the great sea and beyond. For she will unite them with her suffering, and lead them with her love.”

S
hanti gave Burson an unblinking stare
. His smile curled his lips in glee, as if some great present were dropped on his lap. She asked, “So if the Wanderer is supposed to create an army out of the people, what is the Chosen?”

Burson met her stare. “The term Chosen is only a stage in the overall journey. The Wanderer needs to learn the required elements, and accomplish the necessary milestones, to grow into the Chosen. Viewing her as just the Chosen is like viewing a map with just the major routes. It is a distant, general view. Look closer, and you can see all the many roads and paths, the active towns of today, and the ghost towns of the past. The trials will make the Chosen. Don’t you see? To get into the trials, you need a certain level of power. But to get
out
of the trials, you will be Chosen.”

Shanti shook her head and stared at the fire. Her eyes stung with frustrated, suppressed tears. They’d gone from discussing her obvious demise, because surviving the trials would mean landing into Xandre’s hands, to then talking about a list of requirements to become the thing her people thought she was born into. All this knowledge, and Burson hadn’t told them a single thing that would help. She would still need to go to the Shadow Lands, and survive to make it back out. After that…

“I think I’ve got it.” Shanti moved to get up. Cayan stood with her and moved to her side immediately. He threaded his fingers through hers, and for once, she welcomed it. “We’ll keep on this path and hope for the best.”

“We’ll fight, we’ll win, and we’ll find a way home,” Cayan said in a fierce voice. He tilted up her chin until she looked into his eyes. “We have power, we have skill, and we have a man who can direct us with a unique
Gift
. You’ve beaten impossible odds just to be here. You’ll keep beating those odds all the way to victory.”

“I didn’t beat the odds, I nearly succumbed to them; or don’t you remember how you met me?” she said softly. Hopelessness washed over her.

“And I was there to pick you up. I will continue to let you do all the hard work, and then pick you up when you are overpowered.” He wiped a tear from her cheek as he smiled down at her. “We have a hard journey, but so does Xandre. He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Shanti couldn’t help but smile at the conviction in Cayan’s voice, at the soft warmth coming through his touch. She nodded and heaved a sigh. “Well, then.” She broke away from the large security blanket and looked at Rohnan. He was waiting with an expectant expression. “Wine?”

“Yes. I’m in terrible mood.”

“You’re in
a
terrible mood. I swear, I got all the intelligence.” Shanti started toward him.

“I think that line only works when two people have same parents.”

Shanti laughed. It had been a shitty meeting, added on to a shitty journey, on the way to a shitty future. But at least she had family to cut down the misery of it. It could be worse.

T
wo days
later Shanti looked at the map wondering why she’d ever thought something so stupid as
it could be worse
. That was just an open invitation for things to get worse. And they had.

Supply carriers had returned to the wooded village with news. The Hunter had gathered a small force near the port city of Clintos. While there were other ports they could leave from to travel to the Shadow Lands, at this time of year the seas were wild, and Clintos was the closest, safest leaving point. Worse still, all travelers and vessels had to be approved before leaving port. Even if Shanti were to sneak by the Graygual keeping guard around the city, the ship would be inspected before leaving.

“But how would they know who we are?” Marc asked as he stood to the side with the Honor Guard and Ruisa. Daniels, Cayan, Burson and Rohnan examined the map with Shanti, trying to plan out the next steps. They planned to head out, and had a route in mind, when the news came of what lay waiting for them. Shanti had assumed the Hunter would try to attack when they left the wood, since there were only a few safe ways out. The Hunter must’ve known he’d be anticipated.

“That Hunter has seen us,” Sanders answered Marc with a surely expression. “He’s going to know what we look like.”

“You can take us with you—we’d have a bigger army,” Tomous said. He stood to one side, watching the discussion. It was no secret that he wanted to go with them, and he wasn’t the only one. Knowing that someone was openly challenging the Graygual’s rule gave everyone hope, and those who could fight wanted a piece of the action. Shanti understood how they felt—she’d want to go, too. But this wasn’t the time for a battle, it was time for sneaking and secrecy. If they got out of the Shadow Lands in one piece, and then passed Xandre, things would be different.

“We’ve talked about that,” Shanti said to Tomous.

Cayan shifted as a warning pulsed from his mind. Rohnan smiled, feeling it—he thought Cayan being possessive was as hilarious as it was absurd. Shanti had to agree, and if she’d been in any sort of mood for company after Burson’s talk, she would’ve ignored Cayan’s scowls and joined Tomous for a night or two. Unfortunately, certain death had a way of diminishing her sex drive.

“What about sneaking onto a ship?” Marc asked in a quiet voice.

“Most roads leading into the port are open but he’ll have them all covered soon, especially if the rumors about his abilities are true,” Yeasmine said as she approached. Her graying hair was tied back in a bun. Shanti could read anxiety and determination in her mind, but her face was completely blank. “You’ll need to choose the most open road and force your way into the city.”

“No Captain is going to welcome us onto his ship with a line of Graygual chasing behind,” Shanti reasoned. “Even if we managed to get in unnoticed, with the ships being checked, we wouldn’t make it far. We’re going to have to choose another port.”

“The other ports won’t take someone to the Shadow Lands at this time of year. Not even one of the craziest captains,” a ruddy-faced, middle-aged woman said. She was Tara, their chief trader, doing the most traveling, and learning about the goings-on “outside”, as they called everything beyond this wood. It was she who brought the news of the Hunter. “Only those who make their money trading brave the seas. Or, lately, those wanting to see the Chosen make it through the trials.”

An uncomfortable shiver went up Shanti’s back. “Has he entered yet?”

The woman shrugged. “So far, I’ve heard that three people have gone in directly before him, and none have come out. It seems as though the Chosen sent them first. He’s going in soon.”

“He sent in his people to die?” Rachie asked. He hunched down and backed up behind Xavier when the Captain glanced his way.

The women grinned. “It’s all unknown with the trials, isn’t it? The Chosen is going to walk into a place no one has ever survived. Makes a man nervous. So to stall, he sent in a few of his own men to see what would happen. One was moderately powerful, I’ve heard, but he was the last. He hasn’t come out.”

“And he’s next…” Shanti said in a hoarse voice. She didn’t like the sound of entering these trials any more than that Inkna. She wouldn’t send someone to die in her place, but she would definitely stall for a while.

“Think so. Heard from a trader just back.” The woman took a bite of bread. With a full mouth, she finished with, “Any day.”

“If we can fool a captain into taking us, we can get through. The Hunter can’t inspect every ship,” Marc persisted with a red face. “He’s waiting with the army. Burson can disguise minds, so if we get in the town, we can hide S’am—you know, because of her eyes—and then when someone checks us, we’re just a bunch of stinky, dirty men on a glory expedition to see the Chosen.”

“But we’d still cause a stir with the battle getting into the city,” Daniels said. “Disappearing after that would be impossible. The town might be full with tourists, but it isn’t that big, and is stuffed with Graygual. Those aren’t good odds.”

“We can get you in with our trading supplies,” Yeasmine said in a steady, clear voice. “And our Captain can take you. He would only have room for fifteen or so with the supplies, but once in the city, the others—the more harmless looking among you—can charter another ship.”

Anxiety was starting to eat away at the older woman, Shanti could feel it. Yeasmine held her head high, though, with a straight back. An older man moved beside her and put his hand in hers. “We knew this wood would not be a permanent solution when we came here,” he said. “The lands are restless. We do not know of this Wanderer, but news has reached us of a woman who rescued two captives out from under the Hunter’s nose. Word has spread. This violet-eyed woman and her Ghost are our best hope, and we are ready to do our part.”

“And I will be your guide,” the woman said as she ripped off another piece of bread with her teeth.

“Just lost your job, Burson,” Sanders said in his customary growl.

T
hey lost
another day in order to construct an entirely new plan involving hollow barrels, covered wagons, and items to trade with the Shadow Lands. A select group would lead the larger than normal trading party in through a gate of the port city with some of Tara’s network, and directly to the ship where a Captain named Jooston the SeaFarer would take them aboard, deal with the inspection, and set sail.

Jooston was hailed as the best sea captain in the land, facing and beating more storms than anyone out of legend. He was crazy, wild, and hated the Graygual with a passion, though no one had ever heard exactly why. He was the perfect choice.

The plan sounded so easy. So effortless. Unfortunately, in Shanti’s experience, nothing ever went to plan.

Shanti sat with Cayan and Sanders, tucked into the back of a cart with wood carvings and a few baskets of fresh, wild roots and vegetables only found within the woods. The cart behind them held five barrels, currently without lids, which would hold four boys and Ruisa when they came to the inspection. Currently, the boys and the girl dressed as a boy were riding, since they could pass for hired guards—extremely cheap hired guards, given their age, which fit Tara’s known lack of funds. Xavier would get to ride through the gate, since he was too big to fit into one of the barrels. Rohnan and Burson were in the next cart, chatting about their various studies of the Wanderer versus the Chosen, and there was one more cart at the back holding Tepson, Etherlan and Tobias. Each cart had a tarp over it that made it look more like a flattened wagon, hiding who was inside. This gave the illusion of higher priced goods, which Tara assured them she traveled with no more than twice a year—the spoils of those that ventured through the woods. The backs of the wagons were open for air while there were very few travelers on the road. Daniels also got to ride, as he looked more refined than the others.

The hope was that, even if the Hunter himself was at the gate, he wouldn’t see Shanti or her crew to be able to recognize them.

“My legs are falling asleep,” Sanders said in his gruff voice as he rocked to one side and straightened a leg. He accidentally kicked Shanti trying to find room to stretch it out, and then again on purpose when she didn’t allow him more space.

“You aren’t the only one sitting like a child for hours at a time.” Shanti moved until he could get his leg straight, then pushed back against it so she wasn’t pressed against Cayan’s side.

“You’re younger, more agile and you’re a woman. You bend.” Sanders punched his thigh. “Ah! The needles are pricking me!”

“I’m more agile because I stretch.” Shanti reached back and wiggled his foot.

Sanders huffed out a laugh. He wiggled his foot. “Better. How far—what’s he doing?”

Shanti glanced to the rear as Cayan turned around to see Burson riding up the line of wagons on his horse, a cockeyed smile on his face.

“He’s smiling,” Sanders growled. “No sense ever comes out of him when he smiles.”

“Smartest thing you’ve said all day,” Shanti mumbled.

Burson drew even with the back of their cart and hunched down so he could peer in the back. “Hello.”

“Burson, that isn’t the best place to be traveling. We’re getting close to Clintos,” Shanti remarked.