Blood & Stone: The Saboteur Chronicles Book 3

by J. V. Roberts

My last breeze. My last hot day.

  There was comfort in that knowledge.

  Eirik pulled the sword loose and he fell to his butt. He sat there, rocking, watching as the blood poured from the wound in his belly. He reclined and sat his head against the floor, staring at the ceiling; not much to see aside from water-stained brick.

  Eirik’s shadow washed over him. He stood at his feet, his sword swinging loosely at his side like a pendulum.

  “So this is what it feels like to be at the other end of the rope.” Dominic smiled.

  “I couldn’t say. But I am disappointed; I expected more of a fight from you. I’ll let you decide how you want to die. I can take your head. I can stab you a few more times. Perhaps you want me to slice your throat and let you drift off, nice and peaceful, like I did with Hawthorne. What do you think?”

  ***

  Lerah and Roserine broke through to the wide circle of ground that Draxus and his two naked bodyguards were holding. The battle surged around them; it was as if they’d cut a ring out of the center of a raging sea.

  “I’ve got these bitches; the asshole is all yours.” Lerah’s words sounded more confident than she actually felt.

  The Eval women didn’t appear to need armor; everyone they’d come against had failed to lay so much as a finger on them, let alone a sword. They watched as Roserine charged toward Draxus and then tilted their heads back to Lerah. They took up identical stances: knees bent, left hands extended, swords pointed across the tops of their heads. They separated, circling Lerah from either side, their bodies glistening with the blood of fallen Anthenians.

  “Foolish woman.”

  “You do not belong here.”

  “I’m surprised Draxus lets you two out of the house like that.” It was something Dominic would have said; a smart ass remark to try to break the tension and calm the nerves.

  “We are Jehona and Besilina, Vipers and sisters to the fallen Mirela, and we are protected by Master Draxus; he is the only armor we need,” Jehona spoke, her voice a mechanical purr.

  “Sounds like Mirela might disagree with you.” More of Dominic’s words leaving her lips.

  “You do not get to speak her name! We’ll cut your fucking tongue out!” Jehona screamed.

  ***

  “The Queen herself has come to greet me! I’m flattered.”

  Draxus and Roserine were two ballroom dancers getting their initial greetings out of the way before coming together for the main number.

  “The only thing I came for is to take what’s mine.”

  “And what is yours, little Queen?”

  “Your head!”

  Draxus’ laughter boomed across the battlefield. “You’re an ambitious little girl, I’ll give you that. Tell you what, because I like you I’ll give you the opportunity to pack your shit and take a boat somewhere far, far away from here.”

  “No deal.” She moved carefully, one foot over the other, holding her sword with both hands, the business end pointed at Draxus. She could see Draxus’ yellow, serpent eyes searching her for weakness. She kept looking to her left and right, expecting a group of Eval to come to their master’s defense, but Anthena’s soldiers were keeping them busy and had begun to push them back from the center. “Looks like your men are doing a lot of dying.”

  “And they are proud to do it. We came ready to pour every last drop of our blood into this soil.”

  “I’m happy to help you with that. The same way you did Emily, and my mother, and so many other countless young men and women that sought nothing more than to live and raise their families in peace.”

  “And what do you think we are seeking?” He pounded his chest. “Your mother…well, I was a boy when that shit happened. But if I’d been here, it’d have gone different. I don’t make it a habit of taking mom’s from their kids if I can help it. As far as Emily and your young men go, that’s life. I told you what would happen to her if you didn’t surrender the city; I keep my promises.” Draxus almost looked regal in the long, white shirt flapping angrily against his body. “Surprised you didn’t mention that dipshit brother of yours.” Draxus stopped circling and stood with his legs wide, holding the maul sideways against his waist.

  “He chose his side.”

  “So you don’t care that I bashed his skull in?”

  Roserine did care. She cared more than she thought possible. She cared so much that her eyes began to spill tears as her mouth was forced open by a guttural sob. She cared so much that her legs began moving beneath her, hurtling her toward Draxus.

  ***

  The Viper sisters struck, both of them attempting to cut Lerah in half from different angles. Lerah flipped back out of the way. Part of her was surprised when she ended up on her feet; she hadn’t done that since she was being trained to become a Shadeux.

  Jehona was unfazed by the theatrics. She was back on Lerah, her saber whooshing through the air; Lerah dodged the strikes like an expert brawler. She didn’t dare try to lock up with the Vipers; her daggers were too small, she’d be likely to lose a finger. So she kept moving, kept light on her feet, bouncing around like a field rabbit. She had both Vipers in front of her. She faked right as Besilina sliced down. There was a split-second opening that resulted from the missed attack and Lerah jumped at it, stabbing Besilina in the top of the right arm. Besilina cried out and dropped the saber in the grass. Jehona attempted to defend her sister and slashed at Lerah’s neck. Lerah rolled under the attack, came up and hit Besilina in the stomach with her shoulder, folding her up and carrying her back five feet away from Jehona before slamming her down. Lerah rolled across her chest and face and came to her feet behind Besilina’s head. She grabbed her hair and coiled it tight around the bottom half of her forearm and yanked hard.

  “Let go of my sister!”

  “As you wish.” Lerah slashed her throat and let her head disappear into the grass.

  “Noooo!” Jehona jumped her sister’s body and was swinging before her feet touched the ground.

  Lerah stumbled and Jehona’s saber tore into her armor and came inches from disemboweling her. When the saber passed her face again she kicked out and smashed her shin against Jehona’s thigh, trying to buckle her leg.

  No luck.

  Lerah kept trying to get shots in. Every time the saber glimmered past the tip of her nose she stabbed and prodded at Jehona, trying to find some piece of flesh to sink into. She managed to slice Jehona across the top of her right wrist on a downward strike, but the cut wasn’t deep and Jehona didn’t seem to notice, she continued her assault and Lerah kept moving, but she was beginning to feel the tendrils of exhaustion tickling her back.

  It was time to accelerate things.

  She kicked out at Jehona, creating some room, before jumping back and creating even more. As Jehona attempted to close back in, pushing off the balls of her feet, Lerah threw the dagger in her right hand and sent it turning end-over-end into Jehona’s abdomen, just below her left ribcage. Jehona froze in shock and by the time she remembered she was still in a fight Lerah’s foot was connecting with the side of her head. She twirled once and came down on her back. Lerah stomped Jehona’s wrist and kicked the saber from her hand before mounting her hips and holding her arms down with her knees.

  “Fucking foreign cunt! Fucking filth! You can not kill me! I will return!”

  “Good luck with that.” Lerah staked her heart. Jehona thrashed around for a few seconds, but the light behind her eyes quickly faded and soon she was as still as her sister.

  ***

  Roserine swung her sword as if she wanted to bisect Draxus from head-to-groin. He used the handle of the maul to block her attack and then pushed her back before smacking her in the mouth, cracking her lip open.

  “It really hurts me to have to ruin such a pretty face.”

  Their battle was a push and pull. She explored every angle with precision strikes while he used the long grip of the maul like a staff to block and parry.

  “Come on, you’ve got the
speed, fucking cut me!” Draxus hit her in the chest with the handle.

  Just as she was recovering she saw the fat head of the maul sailing sideways toward her. It was too late to get out of the way. If she ducked it would split her skull and there was no blocking it, so she absorbed the blow the best she could. She took it in the ribs and felt something crack beneath her armor. It knocked her off her feet, but she didn’t stay down; she hit the ground and rolled back up.

  “Down but not out! I like it! Your brother, the useless worm, had none of that. He came to me a sniveling, little bitch and he died a sniveling, little bitch. Just sat and looked at me while I smashed his skull.” He was baiting Roserine and it was working.

  As she ran back into the fray, glass shards shifting in her chest cavity, Draxus switched his tactics. Rather than waiting for her attack, he countered with one of his own. He took a little hop forward, building up his momentum as he cocked the maul back to swing. Roserine remembered Lerah’s move on the wall and fell to her knees. She slid through the grass, beneath his swing, carried by her momentum. As she stood she raked her blade across the outside of his right thigh, brought it up and then drove it back down in a reverse grip, stabbing him through the side. As she spun beyond his reach she pulled the sword free and left Draxus bloodied and reeling.

  “Ah! Bitch!” He was limping, unable to lift the maul higher than his chest due to the pain.

  “Down but not out; I thought you liked that.” Roserine twirled her sword and licked her lips, eager for more.

  His eyes were shifting as if he was looking for help, yet he still had too much pride to call for it. Not that it would have mattered much; everywhere Roserine looked she saw Anthenian faces dripping with Eval blood.

  She bounced from foot-to-foot as she closed in for another attack. Draxus struggled to track her, struggled against the pain, trying to keep the maul high enough to block the blows, grimacing as he twisted it horizontally, vertically, and back again. He was bleeding, growing tired, and she wasn’t even breathing heavy. He swung again, but the blood loss had slowed the monster. She ducked back, waited for the all clear, and cut Draxus’ right knee from beneath him. He fell to one knee. As if being crippled was only a mild inconvenience, he lugged the maul from the grass and attempted to swing again. She chopped down as if splitting a piece of wood and severed his left wrist. He roared and the maul thumped to the ground.

  He remained hunched there for a moment, one knee in the grass, his head down, his mangled limb tucked against his stomach, not making a sound. Finally, he looked up at her, a pained smile on his lips. “What can I say? You got me.”

  “Yeah. I got you.” She swung and sent his head rolling across the field. His body fell and that was it. No cheers from the crowd. No parting of the clouds. Just more blood soaking the soil.

  Lerah appeared beside her, panting. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. You?”

  “A little banged up, but alive. We’ve got to get back to Dominic.”

  “Lead the way.”

  ***

  Dominic lifted his right foot and set the sole of his boot against Eirik’s plated stomach.

  Eirik paused, his sword suspended overhead. “Have some dignity. Let’s make this quick and clean, for your sake.”

  “I intend to.” Dominic reached for his ankle and wrapped his hand around the pistol. It fit his palm like a glove. He squeezed the trigger and the bottom of his boot exploded. The bullet drove right through Eirik’s plate armor and into his chest.

  At first, Eirik did nothing. He stood there, staring down at Dominic’s boot as if he were seeing it for the first time, the sword still wobbling above his head. Then he coughed and a bloody mist filled the air in front of his face, staining his lips red. He lost his grip on his sword and it smacked against the back of his armor before clattering to the ground. He shuffled back and there was a neat little hole in his armor where Dominic’s foot had been. His legs gave out and he fell.

  After that, the only sound that filled the throne room was the hum of the battle taking place outside.

  ***

  “No! Dominic! No!” Lerah ran through the throne room and fell to her knees beside him. She saw the wound, saw the blood. But that didn’t stop her from punching at the wind. “Get the doctor! Get the fucking doctor, now!”

  Roserine stood near Eirik’s corpse, her hands folded in front of her face. “Dear, he’s…I don’t think there’s anything—”

  “Fuck you!” she sobbed. “Get the fucking doctor!”

  “God, you’re fierce. I’m gonna miss that about you.” Dominic’s voice crackled. He rolled his head toward her and smiled that smile; the one that had pulled her across oceans and deserts, the one that could light the darkness and fight back the cold.

  “You’re not gonna miss a thing, you’re staying with me!”

  He swallowed hard. “But I’m not. You’re a soldier, Lerah. Look at me; take a good look, baby. I’ve already got one foot out the door.”

  “No, please.” She broke and dropped her forehead against his chest, unable to speak as she drenched him in her sorrow, each sob a plea to the heavens for one more moment. She lifted her head and began stroking his hair. “I’m going to miss you so much, Dominic. So much. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do without you.”

  He took her hand and held it. “You do what we’ve been doing: you survive.”

  She nodded. Chin trembling. “I love you. I’ll always love you. Thank you for everything…for teaching me, for saving me.”

  He shook his head. “It was you that saved me.” He raised a shaky hand and wiped a single tear from her cheek. Then he was still.

  Roserine sat behind Lerah and rubbed her back while she grieved.

  “We’ll honor him. We’ll send him off like a king.”

  “No,” Lerah sniffed, “Dominic never saw himself that way. It wouldn’t be right.”

  “So what do you intend to do with him?”

  “I’ll bury him in the fields beyond the wall in an unmarked grave. No ceremony. No flowers. Dominic was a wanderer; I’m not going to tie him down in death.”

  47

  Lerah rode beyond the wall with Dominic’s body draped across the back of her horse. She buried him in the shade near a trickling brook and covered the grave in stones. It was a wordless, back-breaking ceremony.

  Lerah stuck around for a few days to help Roserine conduct the cleanup. They cast the Eval’s dead from the cliffs and burned their own. Most of the structures in Anthena had been left untouched by the battle, except for the mine; the tunnel would need to be sealed and the workforce replenished. Roserine promoted Coen to Commander. His heart made up for his lack of experience and she could trust him; if anyone objected they didn’t speak up. Once everything was settled and it was clear that the people would accept Roserine retaking the throne, it was time for Lerah to leave.

  Lerah and Roserine stood on the docks. Merchant vessels were loading and unloading their cargo and the market was bustling around them. At Roserine’s back, fishing vessels bobbed in the distance; Lerah was overcome by a fresh wave of melancholy as images of Hawthorne played fresh in her mind.

  “Is there nothing I can do to make you stay?”

  Lerah intended to take a merchant vessel to Lokavia; her destination beyond that was unknown. “No, I don’t think so. I need to go…I need to find something.” She had her arms folded across her stomach and was staring at the damp boards beneath her feet.

  Roserine reached out and took her hands. “There’s something for you here.”

  “I’m sorry,” she pulled away, “but right now there’s only room for anger and sadness in my heart. Maybe one day, but not now. If I remained I’d just stay haunted.”

  “I understand. Take care of yourself, Lerah. I hope you find what you’re looking for.” Roserine hugged her and kissed her on the cheek before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

  “Yeah, me too,” Lerah whispered after her.

  She b
oarded the ship without looking back.

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  It took two years, but it’s here. Out of all the stories I’ve written, this has been the toughest. On one hand, it’s the end of the road for characters that I grew to love (I’m not sure what the future holds for Lerah). On the other hand, this book was tough to write from a technical standpoint. There were so many moving parts, so many characters, a new land, and this time they’re using swords instead of guns (for me, writing swordplay is much more difficult than writing a shootout). This was ambitious for me and I hope you—the reader—feel like it paid off. After going through the manuscript more times than I care to remember and slicing over thirty-thousand words, I can say that I’m happy with the final result; I gave it my best and now I release it for the world to judge.

  Thank you for your patience. Thank you for allowing me to tell you my stories. I hope to see you for the next one.

  www.facebook.com/thejvroberts

  J.V.