Deserts Of Naroosh

by Bradford Bates

  Knowing the job was done gave Neema’s legs enough energy to keep going. Running back to their forces was a much friendlier sight. It was nice to watch the arrows flying toward her enemies instead of having death staring her in the face. The archers were staggering their attacks now, not letting the men on the parapets get off any shots without significant risk of injury or death.

  Neema’s thundering heart slowed enough she could finally hear her breathing. It felt like the return trip to Khalid took twice as long as before, but it must have been fast because the explosion hadn’t happened yet. Her breaths were still coming in great heaves as she turned to see if the bomb would explode the way the witch promised.

  As she watched the gate, Neema couldn’t help but think this was what a fish must feel like when it was plucked from the river. Air was a luxury. Her vision swam with little black spots. Then the world turned brilliant orange.

  The thunderclap rolled over the resistance like a wave, sending several men staggering backward as though someone punched them. When the witch talked about an explosion to remember, Neema had been pretty sure she was full of shit. If anything, the blast was much bigger than she’d ever dreamed it could be. If the bomb had gone off when she threw it the resistance would have been down one freedom fighter.

  The stone blocks and wooden boards that made up the gate were raining down from the heavens like the gods had decided regular rain was too bloody boring to be good fun. The men on the parapets were all screaming, but none of them were shooting. Now was the time to move. Neema looked at Khalid and nodded. This wasn’t supposed to be a prolonged fight. They needed to get the supplies and get the hell out of there.

  “Charge!” Khalid roared at the top of his lugs.

  Sometimes Neema wondered how he could even speak after a battle, not that she was doing any less.

  Neema felt the scream tearing from her lips as she charged forward with the rest of the resistance. She moved slower now, making sure that when she reached the destruction at the gates, she still had enough energy to fight. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the moment with everyone else, even if she let them through the entrance first.

  The resistance stormed through the new opening. Two groups of men went for the food and water while another headed for the armory. Their carts were making their way inside now, and as soon as they were loaded, they’d head back into the sands of the desert, bound for home.

  All the rest had to do was buy them some time.

  Neema flowed through the courtyard, taking lives as easily as the summer heat. Her blade rose and fell with impunity. Anyone inside the gates was a soldier working for Jabari, and therefore their lives were forfeit. Even fifteen years after her family was slain, revenge burned in her heart as bright as the sun. The hardest part for her was knowing when to block out the sun.

  Today wasn’t that day.

  The tide of the battle shifted dramatically in their favor with the explosion. It felt as though the fight was firmly in their hands now, but when everything felt like it was under control, there was always one more surprise. Emerging from the fort’s largest building was a man she never wanted to see. Dracon had to turn his massive shoulders sideways to fit through the door the rest of his soldiers sprinted through with ease. It was said that he’d once thrown a camel nearly twenty feet.

  Neema couldn’t even tip one over.

  The two-handed sword on Dracon’s back was as famous as the man himself. The blade was named Splitter. The tales said that the weapon got its name when the warrior had split a man in two as neatly as if he were cutting a cord of wood. She wouldn’t have been surprised if the sword weighed twice as much as she did. Neema scoffed at the idea when she’d heard it the first time, but seeing the weapon in person, she believed it.

  If Dracon was here, this fort was more than a supply depot.

  They needed to get out of here, but someone would have to buy them the time they needed to retreat. Neema ran to Khalid’s side. “Dracon is here. Signal the retreat.”

  “We don’t have enough—” Khalid started to protest.

  Neema placed a hand over his heart. “What we have will be enough. Get them out of here.”

  “What will you do?” Khalid watched her levelly, hoping she wasn’t up to something foolish.

  “What I must.” Neema turned and ran toward Dracon.

  Khalid watched her go. “So must we all.”

  “That’s it! We’re done here. Take what’s in your arms and go,” Khalid roared from behind her.

  Knowing that Khalid believed in her was enough to restore most of her flagging energy. She would need all the strength she could muster to face Dracon. The big bastard was all power and rage, and she needed to be swift and light. Neema left her sword in its place and pulled her daggers free.

  Light as a feather.

  “Dracon!” Neema screamed, drawing the mighty warrior’s attention to herself.

  The large warrior stopped shouting orders, his eyes going wide at the sight of her. She pointed at the ugly bastard while thinking of all the good men and women he’d killed. “Your time has come.”

  Better for him to think I’m overconfident.

  “The Desert Wolf. I should have known you’d be the only one dumb enough to come here.” Dracon sneered across the space between them as he pulled Splitter free from the scabbard on his back.

  He held the sword as easily in one hand as she did one of her daggers.

  “Let us see who the gods favor today.” Dracon looked down at his servant and gave him a final order before squaring his shoulders and stomping forward.

  It was funny to hear him speak of gods when they all knew the Pharaoh's followers only served one of them. Vitaria’s influence had consumed this land like a plague of locusts. Once there had been prosperity for anyone willing to work. Now only a few reaped the benefits of the many.

  That would change.

  “This is going to be fun.” Neema moved.

  It was interesting how time seemed to slow as the fighting started. Once she had a weapon in hand and someone to kill, everything quietly fell into place. While others were good at hunting, fishing, or building, she was good at killing. Neema had spent the last fifteen years honing her deadly craft from sunup to sundown.

  There wasn’t a deadlier bitch in the desert.

  Dracon’s sword came at her as though she was sparring with a fencer and not someone wielding a small house. Neema wouldn’t have been surprised if the weapon was three feet longer than she was tall. The man wielding it had short stubby arms, but the blade gave him plenty of reach.

  There was no way she could compete from a distance, and getting in close was risky business. Thankfully for her, all she had to do was keep him busy unless the opportunity for more presented itself. Taking out one of Jabari’s top generals would be a huge bonus for the resistance, but getting everyone out with the supplies was more important.

  So far Neema was able to stay out of reach. She was mostly dodging his attacks. While her daggers might not break if she tried to block Splitter, her arms might. Not being able to shift the weapon with her blades made this fight much harder than it needed to be.

  Splitter moved through the air with so much force it left turbulence in its wake.

  After rolling inside the next strike, Neema grinned. She was pretty sure she had the man’s measure now, and it was time to get to work. Twisting, turning, slashing, laughing—her world was a whirl of madness and blades as she danced around the much larger man. Dracon was bleeding from several slashes now, and his exhales came out as growls of frustration.

  There was a chance she might get to kill the fucker.

  Neema understood why he had a fearsome reputation. On the battlefield against swaths of other heavily armored men, Dracon would have been a nightmare to fight. Against one quick woman, he wasn’t quite up to the task.

  Khalid’s horn sounded, and she knew that meant most of their forces were clear, and he was signaling to the stragglers th
ey would be left behind if they didn’t hurry up. Neema was fully into the flow of the battle and didn’t want to leave. She was sure with only a few more minutes of effort that Jabari would be short one general. It was the thing they needed to boost morale after a long summer of getting their asses kicked.

  Everyone loved a big win.

  It was easy enough to slip inside Dracon’s guard. That should have told her all she needed to know about what would happen next, but Neema missed the signs in her haste to land a killing blow. The general twisted away from her attack at the last second, taking one of her daggers across his armored chest while the next bounced harmlessly off his shoulder.

  The general reversed his grip on the sword so the tip pointed down at the ground. Instead of making a massive slash upward that Neema could have easily avoided, Dracon gently pushed the blade outward like a shield. With his strength, it didn’t take much movement for the sharpened edge to tear through her armor as though it was made from tissue paper.

  Neema screamed as the sword cut into her chest and shoulder. The dagger in her right hand fell to the ground as the muscles in her arm went limp. She threw her entire body backward, missing the slice she’d been expecting in the first place by a hair's breadth. As soon as her back hit the ground, she flipped back to her feet and dove through the bastard’s legs. That was about all of the acrobatics she had left in her. After running for the gate and getting wounded, she was out of energy.

  If this was her time to go, she would meet Eternia with a smile on her face. Her left arm still worked, and that was all she needed to land a blow to his inner thigh. Neema twisted the blade while screaming in defiance. Her entire life had been like this, one insane fight to the next. Her existence always teetered on the verge of falling apart. Most people were scared of death. For her, it would be a vacation.

  Dracon took the blow to his leg without flinching. He brought his foot up, smashing his armored boot into her chest. Now that she was on her back again, Splitter rose high into the air, ready to add another victim to its epic legend.

  “So dies the little wolf.” The general’s shoulders muscles tensed as he swung.

  The sword came down in a violent arc, but right before it hit the blade changed direction. An arrow bounced off Splitter’s tip. Or did Dracon change his attack mid-swing to cut the bolt in half? Either way, the results were the same. It spared her life, and Dracon lost an eye. It took her a moment to put it all together, but when he deflected the arrow, it must have bounced into his face.

  Rotten luck for Dracon and the chance she needed to escape.

  The general was lying on his back and screaming in pain as his men dragged him away.

  A hand clamped down on her shoulder, making her jump.

  “Time to go.” Khalid helped her to her feet. Then they were running.

  The battle was over, and the day was theirs.

  Hopefully, they had someone at camp who could tend to her arm. The last thing she wanted to do was become a bean counter for the resistance. There wasn’t exactly an army of one-armed warriors out there making their names as heroes, and she refused to be anything but.

  Neema pushed the thoughts of her arm away. That was a worry for another day. Today they were victorious, and they should celebrate. When they made it back to the oasis, she would find a jug of wine and a beautiful lady to ease her pain.

  The world didn’t have to be perfect when you could find joy in the little moments.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Why did every day start with a morning?

  Couldn’t they as a society just make a law that it was illegal to leave your house before ten a.m. and to work past five at night? Tim laughed to himself for making a big deal out of mornings when he never had to wake up early unless ShadowLily told him he absolutely had to. Thankfully for their relationship’s sake, she liked having the mornings to do whatever she wanted while he slept in as long as possible.

  Today was one of those rare exceptions to him being tired until he drank three cups of coffee. It might as well have been Christmas morning as far as Tim was concerned. They were heading back to Tristholm this morning, and from there it was a hop, skip, and a portal ride to Elmore’s Hallow and the desert beyond.

  Tim wasn’t sure exactly what they would find there, but he knew it would be different. Games tended to have different continents or maps. Shit, sometimes even zones on the same map felt totally different because of the monster a player faced. One second, players would be in the frozen highlands, and the next, a player wished they didn’t see snow again for the rest of their lives.

  That was how the developers kept them moving.

  The desert certainly would provide the Blue Dagger Society with a change of view, and Cassie would be happy she wouldn’t have to deal with the cold for a while. For Tim, it was wondering how their story would continue to unfold. Plus there was a chance there could be pyramids, and who didn’t love the thought of looking for treasure in an actual tomb? Tim was kind of a sucker for all things Egypt.

  What kind of person didn’t like the thrill of adventure that came with a treasure hunt? Saving the old monuments to preserve a nation's history or stopping a mummy from taking over the world was a job for heroes, and they were just the bunch. The desert should be a land rich in booby traps, death, and mystery.

  They were going to be some of the first people in The Etheric Coast to see it.

  Tim hopped out of bed with a little more gusto than usual. He wasn’t even mad that he didn’t have a cup of coffee waiting for him. The fact that he could drink all night, use Cleanse and wake up feeling refreshed was the best thing ever. Hangovers were for suckers, and he didn’t like to think of himself as a person who could be taken advantage of. Not that most people had a choice. Without a healer to take away their problems, they were SOL.

  Overindulgence usually carried a steep price.

  His bath the day before left him feeling clean enough, so Tim used some water and a cloth to wash himself off before equipping his gear. Now that he was locked and loaded it was time to find the others and track down a cup of coffee. A human should only be required to wait so much time after waking up until being caffeinated.

  Tim made it downstairs and into the dining room in a flash. He was surprised to see that it was only his team waiting for him there and not some of the important members of the farm with them.

  “Brother Colton left this morning, and Shara is out praying over the new crop,” ShadowLily informed him as she walked across the room to hand him a cup of coffee.

  “Ughh.” Lorelei groaned from somewhere on the floor. “Try to keep it down. My world is spinning enough without noise.”

  Tim almost laughed at her condition, but he’d been there one too many times himself. College was a place for learning, but it was also a place to see how much a person could drink before passing out. The great students mastered the art of both partying and studying while a certain few only mastered the art of becoming seven-year seniors. Xander, his best friend and college roommate, was the perfect example of too much party, and whoever the valedictorian was probably studied a little more than they should have. On the other hand, Tim had a pretty well-rounded experience and walked out the door with the same degree as everyone else.

  Tim sent Cleanse to the downed ranger with a flick of his wrist. It wasn’t her fault she’d been too busy relieving some stress to find him before passing out. Tim was pretty sure if he didn’t have ShadowLily and found himself in Lorelei’s situation, he would have suffered the hangover for the chance at a night with two farm girls. Shit, there was probably an entire series of movies called Double Farm Girls that kept teenage boys busy for days at a time.

  Lorelei’s head popped up over the edge of the table. “I feel wonderful, thank you.”

  “One of the many small blessings associated with being my friend.” Tim beamed before sipping his coffee.

  The ranger piled food on her plate. “Now I can eat. You know, if you could bottle that s
pell as an elixir you’d be the richest man in the world.”

  Tim’s brain started wondering if he could do that. He’d have to talk with JaKobi and find out if they had any knowledge on bottling spells at the Mage’s College. If he could do that, it would be another revenue stream for their guild. Coffee sloshing into his cup for a top-off distracted him enough to pay attention to the others again.

  “Don’t even get those big wheels turning. We have other plans for today.” ShadowLily pointed at the table. “Sit. Eat.”

  Cassie tossed her fork onto her plate and leaned back with a satisfied expression on her face. “If you eat fast enough we could be back in Tristholm by midday and in Naroosh by nightfall.”

  “Just let me get my grub on, and we can go.” Tim smirked over at Lorelei. “My guess is the horses aren’t exactly prepped for our return trip yet.”

  Lorelei snorted. “Give me a break. Up until five minutes ago, you would have been lucky if we were leaving before tomorrow.”

  Three biscuits and a container of honey disappeared in a blink. “I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I’m pretty sure one of her guests from last night works in the stables. We might want to give her a minute.” JaKobi smiled as if he were indulging in a little farm girl fantasy of his own.

  Cassie gave the fire mage a look that said, your days of rubbing one out to Double D Farm Girls are over. “It’ll take me at least that long to wipe that stupid grin off your big ugly face.”

  The wistful expression on the fire mage’s face faded instantly.

  Tim chuckled. “That didn’t take nearly as long as you thought.”

  “Remind me if I’m wrong Cassie, but I believe it was you who said all the farm boys should have to walk around with their shirts off, so we could get a look at their rocking bods,” ShadowLily said with a grin that implied she caught the tank being a mega-hypocrite and loved pointing it out.

  “I might have said something to that effect,” Cassie waffled.

  JaKobi poured himself a glass of rumpleberry juice and tried not to enjoy the moment too much. “As long as this shirtless paradise goes both ways, I’m all for it.”