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Overtaken 6

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by K. F. Breene




  Overtaken

  K.F. Breene

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Also by K.F. Breene

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Fate of Perfection by K.F. Breene

  Also by K.F. Breene

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2016 by K.F. Breene

  All rights reserved. The people, places and situations contained in this ebook are figments of the author’s insane imagination and in no way reflect real or true events.

  Created with Vellum

  Synopsis

  Reunited with her people, Shanti knows that she must make a move in order to finally put her duty to rest. But as always, Xandre is one step ahead of her.

  For one brief moment, when she lets down her guard, Shanti falls into enemy hands. If Xandre thought she would be a docile prisoner, he was sadly mistaken.

  With Shani running interference, it is up to the boys she has trained, and the army Cayan leads, to fight their way to her side.

  The fate of the land will finally be decided.

  Which side will be overtaken?

  Also by K.F. Breene

  Finding Paradise

  Fate of Perfection

  Warrior Chronicles

  Chosen

  Hunted

  Shadow Lands

  Invasion

  Siege

  Overtaken

  Darkness Series

  Into the Darkness

  Braving the Elements

  On a Razor’s Edge

  Demons

  The Council

  Shadow Watcher

  Jonas

  Charles

  Jameson

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  1

  Xandre slowly made his way through the stone hall before climbing the steep steps to his strategizing chamber. A light mental touch brushed his mind, making him stop abruptly. He placed his hand on the wood banister and waited. When the touch wasn’t repeated, he continued up the steps.

  “One of the Inkna has violated my trust,” he said calmly. At the top step he stalled, not bothering to look back at the member of the Inner Circle following him. “Find him. Put him on display.”

  “And if he is powerful?”

  “Maim. Permanently. I care only about their minds and their ability to reproduce. Anything else can go.”

  “Yes, master.”

  Xandre heard only a soft scrape of his man before he felt the presence drift away. Even the soft scrape was telling. Xandre had been in one place too long. His protectors were getting bored. Listless. They needed tasks to keep their minds active and their skills honed. Xandre had to think about that.

  He entered the quiet space and grimaced when the heat from the window wafted against his face. He took the large chair at the top of the room, as uncomfortable as it was hideous. A king of old had sat in that place at one time, deep in the recesses of history. And so Xandre sat on it today, proving his claims of power by the symbolism of the grand chair. In his titles and how is minions addressed him. In his brutality over those threatening to rise up against him. All of it was nothing more than show. A needed show, of course. Like the nobles with their silly hats and their expensive finery—they were only actors on a stage. It amazed Xandre every day that nobody saw through it. That a commoner could have all of those things with nothing more than the will to take it, yet the commoner cowered instead.

  Xandre sat and surveyed those who were gathered around him, waiting. “What is the latest news?” he asked them.

  “The Chosen has her own network,” his leading man, One, replied. “They are springing up across the land, fighting with what little they have. It is becoming a problem.”

  Xandre crossed an ankle over his knee. “I did not foresee her efforts taking this long. Time has worn away our effectiveness.” He sucked at his lip. This was a grievous oversight that now could not be helped. He could not rush her. When they met, Xandre wanted her to be at her best. “Continue our efforts as best we can. She is the key. With her on our side, or dead, it will be easy to regain control. Sheep need only a shepherd; any will do.”

  He drummed his fingers against the pockmarked wood of the armrest and let his gaze drift toward the arrow slit acting as a window. Putrid-smelling air drifted through, hot and sticky. It was a vile part of the country that unfortunately suited his plans. He longed to return home.

  He took a deep, calming breath. Patience had plentiful rewards.

  “What of my orders?” he asked, tearing his mind away from distant places.

  “They are in the process of being carried out. Our armies are on the move, gearing up for battle. We need to get moving if we hope to meet them before she gets there.”

  Xandre smiled to himself, excitement surging. It was finally so close. All these long years he’d waited, and it was all about to come to fruition. “My place is right here.”

  Abruptly, he stood from the robust seat in the ringing silence. The soft sound of a foot shifting, of fabric rubbing, caught his ears. Containing the delighted laughter, he strolled to the arrow slit. Sparkling waters glistened in the intense sun, surging toward the base of the cliff far below. Around the front of the castle, hidden from this vantage point, was a crumbling and pockmarked wall screaming of battles waged and inevitably lost. Still, it was easily defendable, overlooking a murky, swampy sort of land that was defense in and of itself. If his immediate plans failed, she would find him, he was sure of it. This was a challenge fit for Shanti Cu-Hoi.

  He almost hoped his next attempt did fail. That way he could study her a while longer. He wondered: if she did have to approach him, would she brave the swamplands? Or take to her roots and approach by boat, scaling the treacherous cliff and into Xandre’s borrowed back garden? She was such a fascinating creature. So resourceful. So unexpected. She was the highlight of his dull days.

  Turning around to face his Inner Circle, their perplexity hidden behind blank expressions and hard eyes, he clasped his hands behind his back. “You may ask your questions.”

  “Thank you, master,” One said. He paused for a second, no doubt collecting his thoughts, hopefully making them as concise as possible. “I am given to understand that we are continuing to gather our troops in preparation for a large-scale battle?”

  “Yes.”

  One’s lips tightened marginally. “So, we are staying here, and will not be joining the battle.”

  “Correct.”

  One’s shoulders tightened, annoyance at missing the opportunity to work at his trade and waste away here instead, indefinitely. Yet his mind would never deteriorate. Although boredom coated his thoughts like a heavy film, he would not break and act out of character, Xandre was sure of it. Had tested the theory mercilessly. It was why One gained both his name and position.

  Silence filtered through the room again as One processed his thoughts. He was not a quick man to speak, by nature, and even less so in these situations. Xandre’s patience for stupidity could only stretch so far, and all of them knew it. Finally, his head tilted downward incrementally. “Would you lower yourself to hint at your plans, master?”

  “She cannot be b
eaten in a large battle.” Xandre leaned against the wall. “Her people are not like others. Twice I have sought to annihilate them completely. The first time, so long ago in their tiny villages, I was surprised. So I studied. I planned. With the second battle I took the field, yes, but still I did not take the tribe.”

  Xandre looked at the ceiling and chuckled. How surprised he’d been. He’d sought the prize of prizes, and when it could’ve been in his clutches, she evaporated like fog in a forest fire. As elusive as a phantom and as delightfully troublesome. “They, as a people, put all their trust in that young woman. Aged beyond her years, powerful in more than just the Old Blood, she was elected to lead her line into the next generation. So wise, her people. They could’ve found no one better. I have found no one better. She is perfection. Look what she did in the Shadow Lands! Genius at work. I couldn’t have achieved more.”

  More fabric rustled, Xandre’s explanation not solid enough for their taste. The simpletons that they were, they did not see Shanti Cu-Hoi for what she really was. They thought she had luck on her side—that pinned down in one place, she could easily be beaten with just their ring of warriors.

  What fools.

  “She will know I am not heading into that battle.” Xandre pushed away from the wall and crossed to the door. Not hearing a command to the contrary, the warriors filed in behind him, barely better than housebroken dogs. “So she will try to ferret out where I am hiding. If left to her own devices, our roles will be reversed. She will become the hunter, and I the hunted.” He smiled to himself, the excitement nearly breaking free again. “Of course, it is my job to maintain the status quo. She will remain the hunted, if you do your jobs.”

  They descended the stairs, his heavy tread echoing through the hollowed-out space, and silence behind him. Around the bend, with his footfalls muted as it fell on a plush blood-red rug, he continued to the back garden.

  “You have orders for us, master,” One said.

  “I do. A small team of you will retrieve Shanti Cu-Hoi and bring her here. Her group are close—your journey will be an easy one. Hopefully the capture won’t kill you all. Should you fail, however, and are still alive, you will report back and we will allow her to find us. You will not be harshly penalized should you fail in this. I almost expect that outcome.”

  After a slight pause, in which Xandre was sure One struggled with his irritation at being thought second best, One said, “We have told no one of this place. It will be impossible to find you. She might be moving toward the battle now. Should we not send a messenger to spread a rumor of your whereabouts and bring her back in this direction?”

  “Oh my, no.” Xandre waved the suggestion away. “Then she will know I am luring her. No, no. She must discover it on her own. And rest assured, she is headed our way. She has to rescue her people from my blockade. That’ll keep her put for a moment. Just a moment, though. The sands are running through the hourglass.”

  Xandre smiled as they stalked to the south side of the castle, where a small outcropping of benches and stone seats faced a crumbling defensive wall. Beyond stretched a gulf, blue as far as the eye could see. If the weather hadn’t been so horrifying, and the swamp so disgusting, the area might’ve been a lovely one, almost like his home.

  A scarred man glanced up from a book, his face perfectly blank and his body completely lax, showing no hint of aggression. He’d almost been killed by the Graygual when they had raided his village. Rabid and on the verge of breaking. Xandre saw immediately what the strongman needed—revenge. A summons to the Graygual in question, a sword for the scarred man, a closed-off courtyard, and a gruesome fight to the death had taken the last little shred of humanity the man possessed. What remained could be molded to Xandre’s needs, and with his extremely rare and necessary power, he would keep Xandre safe from Shanti Cu-Hoi’s potent powers.

  Xandre nodded at the man. “He’ll go with you, of course. Without him you would be dead before you got within earshot.”

  The man glanced up, took in Xandre for a moment, and then returned to his book.

  Xandre took a seat behind the man before leaning back. “You had better get working,” he said over his shoulder. “She moves quickly and the whole land is rallying behind her. If you hope to capture her, you’ll have to hurry before she beats you back here.”

  “Yes, master.”

  “It is so close now,” Xandre said softly. The scarred man glanced his way, but knew not to speak. “And I cannot foresee what will transpire between us.”

  2

  Shanti stared down at the pass, frowning in consternation as the lines of Graygual made their way along. “Why are they leaving their posts?” she asked, observing the slouched posture and soiled uniforms. They looked haggard, one and all. “And where are the officers?”

  “Probably took off when they heard we were coming.” Sanders spat off to the side, sparing a glance for the Graygual below them before looking at the quietly assembled army behind, now made up of Shadow, Shumas, Westwood, and some from the Wanderer Network. Food and supplies were becoming a problem with the growing force. They would need to pass through a large city to get everything they required.

  Shanti sighed and ran her thumb along the smooth wood of her bow. “I don’t understand why Cayan doesn’t want to kill them.”

  Sanders plucked a stalk of grass from the ground and stuck it in the corner of his mouth. “They’re leaving because they received orders to leave. The captain wants to see where they are going.”

  “They are a large host of stinky, filthy men with deplorable morals—we’ll hear about where they go. We don’t need to see.”

  “Deplorable, huh? What’s with the big words? Trying to show off to your new followers?”

  Shanti barely kept herself from glancing at the city people, hellbent on treating her like some sort of royalty. She grimaced and thought very hard about punching Sanders.

  “Don’t do it,” he growled. “I can see you’re thinking about it. Don’t do it.”

  Shanti shifted, crouching as she watched the Graygual trudge by. Not one of them looked up.

  Curious, she picked up a small rock and lobbed it down the side of the sloping ledge. It bounced and tumbled, dislodging a few more rocks and some dirt. A mini landslide sprinkled the ground next to one of the Graygual’s feet.

  He didn’t so much as glance over.

  “We would rip through these people.” Shanti squinted as she draped her arms over her knees and looked out at the setting sun. “Xandre’s armies are deteriorating. Not enough fresh food, I’d wager. Poorly trained men. Maybe men missing their homes. No female sexual relief for this lot, and if there were, it probably wouldn’t be voluntary. They have been reduced to animals. Worse, maybe. Broken.”

  “Hence the reason I am sitting here, in a pile of dirt, listening to your uplifting observations while my men wander around with their dicks in their hands, worried about the next battle but bored in the meantime. I’d really like to be home with my wife.”

  Shanti glanced back at the stern-faced men and women, waiting in groups for orders. Not two days before, the Graygual army had occupied the area where they now stood, watching the narrow mountain pass to ensure no one went through. On the other side of the mountain range waited a group of Shanti’s people.

  Hopefully they were waiting, or else Shanti would have to track them down and waste valuable time.

  “Speaking of Junice,” Shanti said, lowering her voice, “I was sorry to learn of her miscarriage. It must’ve been a blow.”

  “That damn twin of yours shouldn’t stick his nose where it doesn’t belong.” Sanders looked away, pain radiating from him. His wife had been barely pregnant when Shanti first met them, but within their many battles and travels, somewhere along the way Junice’s body had rejected the new life.

  “It was my fault, actually,” she said, feeling guilt rise up. “Rohnan has been paying closer attention to people’s emotions since Daniels’ murder. He asked me about your pain�
��it took me a while to remember what the source of that pain might be. I’m sorry about that. I should’ve remembered and consoled Junice when I was in the city.”

  Sanders huffed. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s been long enough now. She said it was for the best. Trying to care for an infant in this shithole of a land wouldn’t be easy.”

  “I’m sure she will get pregnant again. She just needs your—”

  Sanders held up a hand and shook his head. “Stop right there. I know where to stick my dick, thank you very much.”

  “Well, some men get the holes mixed up. You’re not real bright. I’m helping.”

  Rough laughter burst out of Sanders. He squelched it immediately before looking down at the army. This time a few vague eyes went skyward, but nothing came of it. “Great heavens, you are a piece of work.”

  “Once it happened by accident. I couldn’t sit right for a couple days…”

  “Nope.” Sanders jumped up, clearly not concerned about those passing below.

  “Cayan is a large man. I wasn’t ready—”

  “Sayas, take over,” he barked, stalking away. “She is insane.”

  “What happened?” Sayas asked in their language as he settled down beside Shanti.

  Three Graygual looked up, their faces gaunt and eyes hollow. Moments later they returned their attention to the ground in front of their feet, their minds turned off like their willpower.

  “Sanders needed a distraction. Any news?”

  “The captain is discussing tactics with the Shadow Lord and Lucius. Tulous has joined them, if only to help bridge the gap for Poano.” The happy-go-lucky glimmer in his eyes dulled. “If she is still among them.”

  “She will be,” Shanti said, her own doubts stuffing the air between them.

  “Rohnan muttered something about the captain missing Daniels acutely. The captain is worried, though doesn’t show it. Rohnan is staying there to monitor the situation, which is probably making the captain aggravated.”

 

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