by K. F. Breene
“He’s used to Rohnan, at this stage.”
“Has to be, right? He wants to mate you, and Rohnan is basically your brother. The captain is stuck with him.”
The end of the line marched past, leading the last few carrier mules. Food bags looked mostly empty, and the canvas from tents that weren’t tied down was covered in stains, affirming Shanti’s thoughts on the shape of the army.
“If we just wait it out, Xandre’s armies might fall apart without our help.” She stood, looking out over the hilltops.
“He’d still have more people than we do. How are we going to defeat him, Chosen?”
Shanti blew out a breath. She had no idea. “C’mon, let’s find Cayan and get on the way. I’m anxious to see our people.”
“What’s that, sir?” Leilius asked, inching away from the high-powered commanders and hard-eyed Shadow. He’d never felt easy in the captain’s presence, and even less so among the Shadow, who made weird jokes about skinning and boiling people. Leilius was positive that the foreigners were responding to the bedtime stories intended to scare Westwood Lands children into behaving, which Gracas had told them about, but the Shadow joked with a little too much gusto for Leilius’ taste.
“This is the job you’ve been trained to do,” the captain said, thickening Leilius’ tongue with his hard stare. “The city of Belos is only a ways up the road. I want you to get the lay of the land. See if it’s occupied.”
A ways up the road? Leilius would have to follow the Graygual at a safe distance through the mountain pass, hoping there were no robbers, and then it was a huge distance from there on open road if the maps he had seen had been anything to go by. Leilius had never been this far southeast, but it seemed stark and bare, for the most part. There would be nowhere to hide.
“But sir,” Leilius said, raising a finger. “The townspeople are bound to know who I am, right? I’m kinda tall for this part of the world, and people from the town we conquered left for other places. I’m sure to see someone who recognizes me. Because, you know—it’s not a big deal, really—but I was kind of known there…”
No flash of knowing passed over the captain’s eyes.
“I helped out that old woman. Did S’am tell you?” he tried again. His legs started to shake under the captain’s commanding stare. The attempt to get out of this journey was not going well.
“Shanti has assured me that you can hide yourself, even in the midst of family and friends,” the captain said, thankfully breaking the tense silence.
Leilius cursed S’am and her belief in him. “Yes, sir, but—”
“Good. I want you to find Burson if you can, but most importantly, send a pigeon to us with any information you can glean. We badly need supplies, but I don’t want to risk another battle. If there are Graygual, I need numbers and positions. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. If I may ask, sir…is anyone going with me?”
“I’ll be sending Boas with you. He is darkening his hair now.”
Was that gulp audible? Leilius wasn’t sure, but as he croaked out a “yes, sir,” he definitely heard a couple snickers from those gathered around the map. He would almost rather go alone than with a Shadow and their serious manner of joking about cannibalism.
Three hours later, riding some excellent horses and mostly in silence, they made it out of the mountain passes and onto a hard-packed dirt track big enough for one cart to travel at a time. Given the lack of tracks along the sides, however, it didn’t seem that carts often traveled that way. At least not enough to leave lasting marks.
Trees thinned further as they made their way along the natural slope of the land. Scraggly bushes crouched along the sides and yellowed grasses waved in the thick, warm breeze.
Leilius wiped the sweat from his forehead and stared out in front of them, where a plume of dust rose in the air. He could just see the line of enemy making their way north and sighed in relief.
“Why do you sigh, little boy?” Boas asked with a twinkle in his eyes.
Leilius hunched in his saddle.
Boas was partially quoting the line “Why do you lie, little boy?” part of a nursery rhyme that ended in a Shadow person stealing naughty children in the middle of the night and roasting them over a fire. Be a good boy and you have nothing to fear, Leilius, his mother had always said. Only bad little boys need to worry about the Shadow people…
Very graphic, those nursery rhymes, and unlike the rest of the Honor Guard, Leilius had always had an inventive imagination when it came to danger. The problem was, actually knowing the Shadow now, the real stories were ten times more terrifying.
“Their army is going a different direction than we are.” Leilius watched the ground, observing the recent dents and scuffs of hooves and boots.
“Let’s hope that is not because they don’t want to double the size of the army in Belos, huh?”
“Kind of strange to pull them out of there right when S’am is ready to go through, right?” Leilius glanced back at the retreating mountain pass. “It’s almost like she passed some kind of test, and now the Being Supreme—”
“Call him by his name. Do not give him the power of a title.”
Leilius cleared his throat. “It is almost like Xandre is giving her a pass to the next thing.”
“Or he is saving his men, knowing she would’ve demolished them. Should have demolished them. The captain wants to see their next move. Where they station.” Boas sniffed. “Xandre will not so easily show his hand. The captain is missing his strategist, I think. He is not thinking things through.”
Leilius felt a pang of loss for Daniels. “The captain always thinks things through. Besides, who cares if they go? What’s a few hundred more Graygual?”
“A few hundred more to defeat when things are dire, that’s what. You are young—you haven’t seen much of battle. A few hundred can tip the scales in a close battle.”
“Not wishing to incite a fistfight in which I’ll surely lose, but I’ve probably seen more large-scale battles than you. But what I meant was, Xandre has a whole land of people who will fight. A whole land. Those few hundred will just increase the weight on the scales already tipped in his favor. I agree with the captain—we can learn something from their movements. More than we could learn from their death, at any rate.”
Boas’ face turned in Leilius’ direction. The horses clomped on, oblivious to the tall, lean man now staring at Leilius unflinchingly. After a tense few minutes, in which those eyes didn’t divert, Boas said, “Westwood has thick roots. You are a headstrong, stubborn sort of people. Shanti chose well.”
Images of what this man was capable of flitted through Leilius’ mind. He had once seen Boas rip the throat out of an Inkna. He ripped the throat out with his bare hands! And now the same man was close enough to reach out and grab him in a fit of anger. Or throw him off his horse then stomp on his head. Or any number of things that Leilius wouldn’t be able to come back from…
He shivered and looked the other way, fighting his indulgent imagination. “I wonder how many Inner Circle guards Xandre has.”
After another quiet moment, Leilius heard, “That is the real question, I think. A whole land of starving men with swords is one thing, but a host of excellently trained, probably well taken care of, expert fighters is…”
“It is a solid defense even if we get past all the other obstacles,” Leilius finished, feeling despondency settle over him. It had been happening a lot since news of Daniels had reached him. Their big victory had been immediately diminished. They’d thought they were safe behind the large walls and tight defenses.
Not only had the enemy snuck in without being seen, but they’d taken out two skilled swordsmen, grabbed the prisoner, and left just as quietly. It was a wake-up call. Nowhere was safe. They were dealing with someone who knew no limits, someone who could think his way over any hurdle, and move his pawns accordingly.
He shook his head as another thought struck him. The Inner Circle had been allowed clo
se to S’am in the last few months. They’d followed her, and certainly been the party that had freed the prisoner…which meant there was no reason why they weren’t watching S’am now. Three of those men stalking around, with the prisoner to disguise their minds, was more dangerous than hundreds of sickly Graygual.
Leilius looked around wildly, his mind’s eye seeing silent, stalking men everywhere—crouched in the shadows of bushes, or sucking in their guts behind the thin trees. “We should’ve brought more people.”
“Why?” Boas asked.
“Because we’ve just separated from the herd. Predators always go after the loners who wander away. We might as well have a target on our backs.”
3
“There they are!” S’am exclaimed, a rare childlike excitement ringing through her voice. “Look!” She threw out her hand, pointing at a small collection of glowing lights of fires in the distance. Her people clearly weren’t worried about the enemy. They were making no attempt to hide themselves.
Marc wiped his eyes and glanced back at the distant mountains, springing up like colossal teeth in the darkening sky. They’d barely waited for the Graygual to clear out of the pass before readying their horses and soldiers and hiking down. While S’am hadn’t known exactly where her people would be camped, she’d had a general idea and headed in that direction.
“I wish they were further out,” Xavier murmured from his horse beside Marc’s.
“Why?” Marc slapped at a bug buzzing around his face.
“Because it doesn’t look like the Graygual are interested in protecting this area. It’d be nice for a few more days of peace before we get back to fighting.” He rolled his shoulders.
“I’d rather get it all over with. Once and for all.”
“Do you think there will be a once and for all?”
Marc looked at the moon, large and full in an expansive sky speckled with stars. “Eventually. We might die getting there, though. That’s the bad news.”
Xavier huffed. “You’re becoming as jaded as Sanders.”
“Now we know why he is jaded.”
Their band of fierce warriors and random followers continued on in near silence. In the moonlight, Marc could just make the backs of those ahead of him, clearly ready for an attack. Xavier might’ve felt safe way out there, but Marc did not. Not many of them probably did. They wouldn’t be safe until Xandre was dead, along with all his minions.
The glow of the fires grew as they neared. Their horses picked up speed as the leaders pushed on faster despite the darkness. It must’ve been the Shumas, eager to meet people they thought they’d never see again. The figures around the fires stood, the light flickering against their lean bodies. A touch pressed against Marc’s mind, like when S’am checked on him. He doubted this was S’am, though. The Shumas were making sure there were no surprises.
S’am and Rohnan leapt off their horses and ran at the fires. The rest of the Shumas quickly followed, delaying everyone else. Laughter and talking burst into the quiet night as the two groups met.
Non-Shumas waited awkwardly on their horses at a distance. Marc felt awkward.
“At least we keep adding the best of the best,” he mumbled.
“Is that what you call the loud woman who keeps grabbing my junk and promising me a free ride?” Xavier growled. He glanced over his shoulder, but did not appear to see who he was looking for.
“I’d probably be annoyed if every woman I met wanted to get a piece of me,” Gracas said from behind them. “But since they act like I’m diseased, I’d take the ride, and say thank you when I was done.”
“Nothing is ever free.” Xavier shook his head as a group of Shumas walked toward the front of their line of horses. The captain swung a leg over his mount and gracefully jumped down. A few female gasps preceded a rattle of speech that sounded suspiciously like “Do you share?”
Marc grimaced, thinking about the large prostitute who constantly leered at Xavier. “She’d use you, rob you, maybe stick a knife in your ribs, or perhaps chain you up for her own personal benefit. I try not to go near her or her women. They are too cunning by half, and know exactly what it is they are selling.”
“We all know what they are selling. If the captain would let me buy, I would,” Gracas said. “He says I’m too young.”
“It’s not what they are selling that you have to worry about; it’s what they take in addition to the agreed-on price.” Xavier shook his head again. “No thank you. I’d rather go about all that honestly.”
“Maybe I would, too, if I was a dopey-eyed pretty boy like you.” Rachie shifted on his horse, which then stamped its foot.
“Better a dopey-eyed pretty boy than a slack-jawed idiot who smells like ass,” Xavier retorted.
“Dismount!” Sanders barked as he made his way down the line. The plane of his face flashed their way, hiding the heated and impatient gaze that was bound to be looking out of it. “Let’s go. Get the horses squared away, get some dinner on, get tents up—you know the drill. We’re here for the night.”
“I miss my bed,” Rachie moaned as he swung his leg over his horse and dropped down like a sack of potatoes. He rubbed his thighs. “I never want to see another horse again.”
“It’s a helluva lot better than walking.” Gracas punched him for no discernible reason.
“What the hell, Gracas?” Rachie swung but Gracas turned slightly at the last second, lightning fast. Rachie’s fist sailed through the air. He took a jarring step, pivoted, and kicked. His foot connected with Gracas’ thigh.
Gracas hit the dirt as Xavier stepped in, pushing Rachie back and bracing for Gracas’ retaliation. “Stop. If Sanders doesn’t brain you, S’am will sort it out. I doubt you want that.”
Both guys slowed. Rachie wiped the corner of his mouth where a dribble of blood leaked out.
It was then Marc felt the presence, like a weight pushing against his back. He hunched, lowered his head, and backed toward his horse without a word. Behind him, as he’d thought, stood the captain, tall and broad and full of lethal muscle. Without looking up, Marc knew the captain’s intense gaze was trying to bore a hole in the top of his head.
“What’s going on here?” the captain asked, looking them over.
Xavier’s eyes rounded and his spine went straightened. “N-nothing, sir,” he squeaked out before clearing his throat. “They’re just tired and not thinking, sir. We’re about to take care of the horses.”
Gracas struggled to his feet. Rachie looked anywhere but at the intense man standing in front of him.
“Don’t embarrass Shanti in front of her people.”
“No, sir,” Xavier said as the captain moved on. “Of course, sir.” They waited a minute, watching him walk down the line, before Xavier slugged Gracas in the shoulder. “Nice going.”
Shanti watched the Honor Guard as they slunk away with their horses in Cayan’s wake. They were wound up, fearful, and anxious. Like most of the army. No one liked the unexpected, especially when it didn’t make sense.
As if hearing her thoughts, Rohnan said, “The issue with the Graygual just leaving isn’t sitting right with everyone.”
Pahona, their best strategist and a formidable fighter despite her short stature, turned her attention to Rohnan. “They just left? Without fighting?”
“Yes,” Shanti said, fighting the urgency as she turned back to the more than two dozen fighters she’d once thought she’d lost. She allowed a moment to drink them in, their familiar faces flickering in the light of the nearby fires. She took a deep breath and sighed. “It is good to see you all.”
“Why are you sitting out here in the open?” Kallon asked. “It appears that you are inviting the enemy to advance.”
With that, the overall attitude sobered. Pahona shifted and moved, looking back through the crowd. “Bring up Alexa.”
Shanti felt her confusion even as her heart surged when Cayan started back toward her, satisfied with his check-in but trying to hide the unease boiling deep withi
n him. She couldn’t help looking back, catching the sway of his shoulders and his graceful movements, indicating the excellent fighter that he was. Energy sizzled between them when he reached her and ran a warm hand down her back. As she turned back to her people, a strange, grounded sense came over her. Her family, her people, and now her mate were all together. They stood in the wilds of the world, in a barren hell not far from danger, and still she felt a surge of hope.
After all this time, and all the traveling, she’d finally brought together the best the land had to offer, and now she would pit them against the best Xandre could produce. When it came to experienced, excellent fighters, and potent Gifts, she outweighed him.
She could win.
She could beat Xandre.
Her heart swelled and fire roared through her body.
She could win. And would. Then she’d make Cayan plant a garden outside their home, within the Westwood Lands, and they’d try for children. Xandre had tarnished her past, but he wouldn’t steal her future.
“What are you thinking, love?” Cayan asked in a soft voice.
Her people had all fallen quiet, no doubt feeling the energy heating her blood.
“Our destiny awaits,” she said in a hum, the lightning of her power crackling. Cayan’s power surged in response. “Let’s find Xandre and end this.”
A cheer rose up behind them, Cayan’s men yelling out their approval. Shadow nodded their heads. Esme, the Shadow Lord, grinned, her eyes flashing in the flickering glow.
“Can we eat dinner first?” Sanders asked with a dry voice. “Maybe get a little shut eye before the charge starts?”
Everyone laughed and the moment died away. For now, Shanti thought. The desire to fight, and to win, was still there. These men and women were more than ready. They were eager.
Shanti assessed the girl they’d brought forward. She blinked in disbelief and leaned forward, not expecting the young woman standing in front of her. The last time Shanti had spoken to her had been well before the battle that chased her from her home. Then, Alexa had been a gangly teen, just budding into a woman.
