Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, 5) (12 page)

“
K
allon just mind-gouged me
. That’s the signal. You boys know what to do?”

Marc stared at Sanders with the familiar feeling of acid burning his throat. A fleeting thought of the doctor, left at home, no doubt warm in his bed, came to him. As soon as that man retired, Marc had a viable
out
of the army business.

A hard finger prodded his chest, jolting him out of his reverie.

“Well?”
Sanders leaned toward him just enough to convey the impatience in his crazy eyes. “Do you know what to do, Dorothy?”

Dorothy?

“Yes, sir.” Marc tapped his knives, and then touched his sword, making sure. Alena’s swallow was audible. Leilius shifted from one foot to the other.

Sanders nodded, scowled at Leilius, and then stared at Xavier for a beat. “Keep the doctor alive. You have the second most important job of this outfit. You got that?”

“What’s the most important job?” Leilius asked in a quivering voice. He didn’t seem any better at dealing with this sort of thing than Marc, despite having had plenty of practice.

“Killing those Graygual,” Gracas answered.

“Keeping the Shoo-lan alive, you nincompoop. Without her, we’re all dead. Which is why this harebrained plan is a bad idea.” Sanders cocked his head. The pop and cracks of the Commander’s neck made Marc’s teeth clench. “Why we are letting Shanti call the shots on this is beyond me.” Sanders turned and stared out at the night before his gaze swung left suddenly. His whole body bristled.

He turned around and started pushing everyone back into the city. “Get away from that gate. They’re out there.”

“Who? The Graygual?” Rachie asked in a hush, backing up quickly. Marc was right behind him.

“They are going after the Shoo-lan. I’ll be damned.” Sanders started hustling everyone to the left, shoving and pushing them through the streets. “We need to get behind them.”

“How do you know?” Xavier asked, helping to get everyone moving.

“The crickets went quiet.” Sanders started jogging, yanking Leilius along with him. “On the trade route, you know there is a predator in the midst if crickets go quiet or birds scream. Same thing applies here.”

“How do we know they are both there?” Marc asked, hustling along with everyone else as sweat dripped down his back. It was a clear sign he was headed into danger.

“We know they are close, or whoever wasn’t protected would already be dead.” Sanders stopped by the next gate. Marc hated how small the city was. “Okay, shut up.”

Listening for the sound of crickets, Marc closed his eyes and drank in the sound, remembering how fast they moved and how terrified Leilius was of being face to face with one of them again.

This was a bad idea.

“Let’s go.” Sanders jogged out with his body bent and his head looking all around. Gracas and Rachie went immediately after. Leilius waited for Alena, and headed out next, leaving Marc and Xavier.

“C’mon,” Xavier whispered furiously, grabbing Marc’s arm. “You do this better than anyone else.”

“I hate that fact.” Marc swallowed, matching Alena for sound, and jogged out of the safety of the city.

As the walls fell away, the big, bare night reached out and grabbed him, offering nowhere to hide. Space stretched out to the sides, putting their flight across the open completely on display. Ahead, crouching in the darkness, lay protruding stumps and discarded branches, trying to catch their feet and slow them down.

This was the absolute worst gate to leave through, which was why no one was planned to. Here they were, completely exposed to anyone with a bow in hand.

Marc put on a burst of speed, running in front of Alena and Leilius and forcing Xavier to hustle to catch up. Then he overtook Sanders and nearly dove into the trees, so desperate to be under cover he couldn’t think straight. Once there, he huddled down and caught his breath, fighting his fear with the need to survive.

Sanders jabbed him in the shoulder before pointing to the right and then up. He did the same to Xavier. Xavier nodded and plucked at Marc’s shirt.

Marc shook his head. His panic hadn’t quite overcome the fear. He was still mostly frozen solid.

Sanders’ big, heavy hand slapped down on Marc’s shoulder.

“You have this in you, boy,” Sanders said. “Keep your wits and use your intuition. Xavier will prevent anyone from sticking a knife in your gut.”

Marc winced again from the heavy, manly slaps. When it ended, he took a deep breath and refused to think about what he was doing, and how stupid it was to be outside the walls with the Graygual. Instead, he focused on remaining as quiet as possible as he wound his way up and over, probably above S’am on the hillside. His foot fell softly and precisely, the effort slow and tedious. Xavier didn’t complain, just kept pace and stayed silent. They didn’t need to voice that their life depended on not being detected.

After a while, the music of the night surrounded them. Marc closed his eyes and listened, thinking he could hear a couple patches where the sound was dead. Chances were that he was mistaken, but he couldn’t worry about that now. Instead, he sat there. He’d never been able to sneak up on S’am, even in the Shadow Lands when she didn’t have her mental power
.
She could hear him, or sense him, and often see him.

But that one time he had refused to play her game and just sat? She’d been annoyed and come to him. She’d had to get really close before she sensed him, and if she had been the enemy, he could’ve had her. Maybe. Hopefully, because that was the strategy he was employing. And if they never crossed his path? So much the better.

Xavier plucked at his sleeve. Marc shrugged him away. Xavier plucked again, a little more insistently. Marc slapped his hand.

Something skittered in the brush. A rock being kicked down.

Animals didn’t kick rocks.

The breath caught in Marc’s throat. Xavier went rigid beside him. The crickets all around them had fallen silent.

Something was above them.
Oh shit.

Breathing deeply and evenly, Marc did not move. Not a single muscle. Not even a twitch. Xavier, thank all that was holy, did the same, relying on Marc to lead with his fear. A presence pushed at Marc’s back.

His muscles started to quiver, the urge to run almost overcoming him. A tiny sound reached his ears. No more than a single blade of grass rubbing against a pant leg.

His breathing started to get shallow. He held his knife in a tightly gripping fist. The presence drew nearer, but still he did not move. Xavier next to him, his breath soft even in contrast to Marc’s, hopefully knew what was coming, and planned to attack.

The presence stopped just above them. This was it. Now or never.

* * *

D
eadness soaked
up the air around them, the animals sensing the top of the food chain in their midst. They’d already become used to Shanti and Cayan sitting there. This was someone else.

A sensation niggled at her awareness. Something out in the night caught her attention. Like a bright light in a deep cave, she felt the presence nearing her. Death seethed, something lethal stalking closer, utterly silent.

Breath, deep and even, entered and left her body. Emptiness crouched around them—no
Gift,
no sound. Full of danger. The grasses and brush felt scratchy against her body. She soaked in Cayan’s heat and Rohnan’s supportive warmth, and let the awareness and anxiety of that skilled Graygual enter her consciousness, then flow back out. She was at one.

A rush of movement had her on her feet with sword in hand before she knew what was happening. Arms swung downward with a sword hilt between them. The blade caught the pale glimmer of the moon. She threw her sword up to block. Cayan, on his feet at the same time as she was, sliced down at a man in black. Someone bore down from behind. A sword fell toward Rohnan’s head. Shanti didn’t even have time to call out.

T
he crack
of metal on metal robbed Marc of his focus for just a moment. Somewhere below him, in the trees, S’am was fighting.

Marc bit down on his lip with the urge to jump up and rush down to help her. He tightened his hand on his knife and continued to wait, hoping the person above him would continue moving. A yell pierced the night. Someone ran out of the gate and stared up at the hill.

She needs help, you idiot! Go!

A rustling sounded ten feet away, running back up the hill. Without warning, Xavier popped up like a groundhog, spun, threw something, and then started charging up the hill.

“Oh shit!” Marc jumped up after him, taking the blade of the knife and readying to throw.

Xavier dove into a group of trees. A grunt and sounds of fighting competed with the clashing of metal below. Marc sprinted up the hill. His foot hit a root then caught in weeds, making him stagger. He righted himself and charged onward, reaching Xavier as he punched someone beneath him.

“Here, I’ll get him!” Marc changed the position of the knife and tried to get around the two men as they rolled around the brush. “Here!”

Marc bobbed and then weaved, seeing an opportunity to stick his blade in the enemy’s side. He dropped to the ground and readied the attack when Xavier’s hammy fist came up and knocked him in the ear.

The world swam for a moment as Marc spun. He landed on his face on the mulch-covered ground. After wiping away a small stone that had stuck in his cheek, he crawled back up and searched for the dropped knife. Unable to find it, he yanked out another and scrambled toward Xavier, ready for another go.

“Hurry, help me!” Xavier said frantically, pinning the man to the ground with his knee in the center of the man’s back.

“Holy crap, you got him!” Elation filled Marc as he put his knife away and braced his hands on the man’s legs.

“No, you idiot—tie his hands behind his back.”

Marc took the small ties from Xavier and worked around to get the unconscious man’s wrists next to each other behind his back. He looped the rope around a little tighter than necessary and tied it off. “Should I do his feet?”

“Yeah. I’ll carry him.”

Marc worked at the legs, getting them squared away before standing up and trying to catch his breath. Xavier bent forward and placed two fingers on the man’s neck. When he straightened, he braced his hands on his hips and looked in the direction of the sword-fighting. “Why are they still fighting? This should be the guy.”

“Which guy?” Marc bent to peer at the man’s face, still feeling the pull of S’am in trouble and needing help.

“The mental worker. I assume he is, anyway. He’s too scrawny to be a Graygual.”

“Is he wearing all black?” Marc squinted down at the dark clothes against the dark ground.

“No way of telling. But who else would it be?”

“A Mugdock?”

Xavier turned and faced Marc. His face dipped toward the ground. “Oh crap. Quick, help me check. The mental worker might still be out there.”

* * *

C
ayan’s sword
blocked the strike before his body pushed the Graygual to the side, letting Rohnan duck out of the way.

In a rush of sweet sensation, the blanket covering Shanti’s
Gift
ripped off her mind. The cunning mind of the Graygual in front of her sparked to life, cool and intent, but also curious. The Graygual behind was perplexed. Somewhere above her, Marc and Xavier were active, worried, and eager.

“Uh oh,” Shanti said with a grin, circling the Graygual. “Your trip to the afterlife has just been guaranteed.”

“It was always guaranteed. It will just come a little sooner. Will you hide behind your power, or will you fight?” The Graygual’s sword slashed out, fast and precise.

She blocked his thrust and countered with one of her own, hacking at him before backing off then using a smooth strike. He flicked her thrust away and countered, the same precise style in nearly the same thrust. He was trained to within an inch of his life, she had no doubt, but his style showed little variety.

She had learned during her travels. She’d become better.

She stepped forward, skipping inside his reach, and hacked again, fast and brutal. He moved to the side, and she moved with him, expecting the counter and then receiving it. She kicked out, connecting her foot to his side before slashing back down. He staggered but blocked before spinning around. His thrust was almost unexpected.

That was a new trick. She’d have to adopt that.

She stepped forward and thrust as a blade swiped the air behind the Graygual. It hooked in the back of his neck and raked across.

“No, Rohnan!” Shanti stabbed forward, getting her blade in his gut before the Graygual crumpled to the ground. “Blast it. He was mine.”

“He registered his defeat. He knew you would win.”

“So? I wanted the victory, you thief.”

“You would’ve played with him, and we don’t have time.” Rohnan cleaned his blade before bending to check the body.

“I would have learned more about his fighting style to make it easier to take down his kind the next time.” Disappointed, Shanti moved so she could see Cayan fighting the other one. He hadn’t used his
Gift
either, probably thinking like she had. Or maybe relishing the challenge.

He moved forward to attack, fast and powerful. His thrust was vicious and quick. The Graygual knocked it away and pivoted. Cayan was ready with the next attack, battering at him. The Graygual turned again, and again, slower than Cayan and knowing it.

“He knows he has lost, as well. He is surprised that a man can best him.” Rohnan moved forward with his staff.

“Don’t do it, Rohnan!” Shanti spread her arm across Rohnan’s chest to hold him back. “Let him learn from this Graygual. It’ll make him better.”

Cayan slashed through the other’s arm, a deep cut that might’ve sliced close to the bone. The Graygual didn’t so much as grunt. Arm dangling, he stepped forward with another thrust, slowed with pain. Cayan batted the strike away, met the advance with his own, and ran his blade through the other’s gut.

“He’ll head-butt—”

As if on cue, the Graygual bent forward. Cayan arched back to evade but didn’t move in time. The man’s head crashed into Cayan’s jaw. A blast of power rocked out from Cayan,
scorching
the man in front of him. He convulsed then went slack. His body slid limply to the ground.

Cayan glanced down at the man before turning to survey Shanti. She couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew his gaze was scouring her body, making sure she was okay. That done, he bent to the man and used the fabric to wipe his blade.

“This one used the same style of fighting as the one last night,” Shanti said. “As the one you fought.”

“They were trained in the same place. That stands to reason.” Cayan straightened and wiped his brow. His
Gift
spread wider, checking everyone it touched. Shanti didn’t tell him that she’d already done it. He needed to check in on his people.

“You and Sanders were trained in the same place, but your styles are so different it’s laughable. And Lucius isn’t like either of you, yet you are all good. These fighters are
exactly
the same.”

Cayan faced her then, wheels turning in his head. He didn’t say anything. Instead, he looked in the direction of Marc and Xavier, who were relieved but carried a burden. Shanti had no doubt they had found the
Gifted.

“For all he complains of his fear, and of his incompetence, Marc is one of the best,” Rohnan said.

“He is like you.” Shanti followed Cayan in that direction.

“How so?”

“He hates his role by my side as much as he loves it. He hates the anticipation of battle as much as he craves the thrill of the win.”

“No.” Sad amusement drifted from Rohnan. “He hates the violence of his role, but will do anything for his love of you. And in that, he
is
like me.”

* * *

C
ayan watched
as three cats ran out of the gate, followed by Lucius and six other warriors. Lucius must’ve seen the fight and wanted the cats to help, like they had the night before. Thankfully, Cayan already had what he needed.

With a last look at the fallen at his feet, he made his way up the hill to where he felt Marc and Xavier in some sort of disorder.

“What are your thoughts?” Shanti asked, following close behind.

Cayan thought back to that battle. The Graygual had been skilled beyond anything he’d experienced, apart from Shanti. His movements were practiced and perfect, his speed lightning fast, and the strength behind the strikes noteworthy. He moved like a fast-flowing stream. And he’d been surprised by the challenge, which meant he hadn’t experienced others in his travels that posed the same sort of opposition.

He was the top tier of Graygual, and Cayan had beaten him.

“This is doable,” he said as he drew within sight of Xavier and Marc, arguing. Cayan stopped and faced Shanti. “It won’t be easy, but we can win this war. We are better than their best Inkna, and better than their best Graygual. We will win.”

Shanti’s eyes turned solemn. “We are better, but also few. It has always been a fool’s errand.”

“You thought that claiming the Shadow was a fool’s errand,” Rohnan said in his musical, supportive voice. It was the voice he used when Shanti’s thoughts turned dark.

Cayan took her hand and fed her a shot of determination as Rohnan continued. “You made the journey you didn’t expect to make, claimed the people you didn’t expect to claim, and reunited with your people, who you never thought you’d see again. And now you are here, about to capture one of Xandre’s assets, having just killed his treasured fighters. You will go all the way to the end, and when you get there, you will finally make your grandfather smile.”

Shanti snorted. “Even sitting among the Elders, that man will not smile. It would probably be physically painful.”

Cayan squeezed Shanti’s hand, bringing her eyes back up to his. For all her coarse tone and seeming disregard for Rohnan’s speech, he could feel her heart swimming with emotion. Her pairing with Rohnan must’ve been Fate. He was the keeper of her faith; Cayan saw that now.

“He has a bigger army, but they are now too spread out,” Cayan said softly. “They have left a great many holes. All we have to do is slip through. This is manageable,
mesasha.
We can win this, I
feel
it.”

Shanti shrugged. “We just have to find the holes, then.”

“Find, or create. Like now.”

Shanti barely nodded. “We’d better get up to the boys. They are about to come to blows, by the feel of it.”

Cayan smiled before running his thumb over her lips. Tonight had cemented in his mind that she was their most important asset. She needed those around her to accomplish her duty, but she was integral to creating the opportunities. Like tonight—this shouldn’t have worked. None of this. The enemy should’ve attacked the city, or shot them with arrows. If nothing else, no one should’ve been able to find the
Gifted.
Yet two vicious enemies were dead, possibly a third, depending on if they had followed the directive and left the man alive.

Cayan started back up the hill, shaking his head. It was madness.

A burst of fear from the two boys had Cayan breaking into a jog. He cut through some brush and came upon Xavier and Marc, backing up against a body. In front of them, standing still with a lowered head, were both of Cayan’s cats.

“Leave it,” Cayan said before wading through the snarling feline bodies. These cats had no appreciation for new friends. He nudged the male aside with his knee and then reached down to push away the female. “Go on!”

“They don’t listen.” Shanti waded through next.

“Where’s yours, S’am?” Marc asked with wide eyes, still staring down at the cats.

“Who knows? He does whatever he pleases.” Shanti put her hand on Marc’s shoulder before moving him to the side. She crouched down to the body, reaching out to brace two fingers on his neck.

“Is he an Inkna?” Cayan asked.

“He’s dressed like one, but…” She leaned back and looked up at the sky. “I don’t have enough light to see for sure, but his features don’t make him look like he was born to the Inkna. His body is bigger. Broader.” She ran a hand up the back of the man’s shirt, then pulled back and squeezed his butt. “He has some muscle tone. I’d bet he was or is a fighter.”