Reflection: Harbinger of the Phoenix (Records of the Ohanzee Book 2)

by Rachel R. Smith

  Cole’s face fell instantly. That thought hadn’t occurred to him. “Maybe not. He’s always so perfect that it’s difficult to imagine he’s ever gotten into trouble,” he muttered.

  Nerissa smiled faintly despite her irritation with the twins’ peeping antics. It was hard to imagine Raysel ever being scolded. But, unlike Cole, she didn’t think it was because Raysel was perfect. No, she suspected that it was because he just didn’t get caught. Maybe Rian had some stories to share. Nerissa made a mental note to ask him about it the next time they talked.

  It came as a relief when the three of them finally reached the path. From there, the walk back took only a few minutes. Rian, in the midst of caring for his bow, was the first to notice their arrival.

  “What are you three doing together?” he asked as he folded the silk cloth he had been using to rub the bow. “Caeneus, I thought that you and Raysel were practicing together.”

  “We were,” Nerissa answered. “But we were rather rudely interrupted.” She went on to explain about the twins’ caper.

  Rian silently slid the bow back into its cloth covering, then rose. He strode over and faced the twins, who stared back with matching perplexed expressions. Then, so quickly that Nerissa almost wondered if she had really seen it, he raised his hand and brought it down on Cole’s head in a sharp, chopping motion. He turned slightly and did the same to Eloc.

  “Ow!” they exclaimed, rubbing their heads.

  “Idiots,” Rian scolded. He turned away and headed back to his seat without saying anything more.

  “Didn’t your mother tell you to stop doing that to people?” Cole whined.

  Rian spun on his heel with a haughty sneer on his face. “I think she would make an exception in this case.”

  “You have my support on this one, Rian,” Leal chimed in as he stirred the pot that was suspended over the fire. “I would make you two skip dinner, but you need to keep up your strength while we travel.”

  Raysel stepped into the clearing with a wet-haired Desta in tow. “Don’t worry, I’ve already got a suitable punishment in mind,” he said ominously.

  **************************************

  Fingers of clouds curled and rolled across the sky as if stretching for the distant horizon. Invisible winds boiled and tossed them into an undulating mass of gray. Though no lightning could be seen, low, growling rumbles carried the threat of a storm to come.

  Nerissa sank deeper into the serenity of the hot spring, letting the water lap over her tired shoulders for one final, blissful moment. Not far away, Raysel sat with his back to her, awaiting his turn. A smug smile spread across her face when she heard labored grunting from the direction of the camp. She wondered which of the twins had made the sound this time. There was no need to actually see them to know that they had strained looks on their faces as they repeatedly carried the pile of heavy rocks from one side of the camp to the other. Raysel’s punishment was as physically demanding as it was pointless. How long did he intend to make them continue the task? The twins would definitely think twice before deciding to peep on Desta—or any young woman—again.

  Soon, Nerissa would have to get out of the water so Raysel could take his turn. She savored the warmth for just a little longer as she gazed up at the roiling northern sky and hoped that the winds would continue to carry the distant clouds away.

  Chapter 18

  Treacherous Men

  Desta sat up and blinked the sleep from her eyes as she blurrily surveyed her surroundings. It was difficult to tell how long she had been asleep, but it must not have been for very long since there was not yet even a hint of light in the eastern sky. On one side of her, Caeneus lay facing Raysel. On the other side, Jarold was flat on his back snoring softly. Though the lean-to enclosed them on three sides, Desta’s view into the center of the campsite was unobstructed. Everything was so still and silent that it was almost surreal. There was no obvious sign of what could have woken her.

  I wonder where Rian went, Desta thought when she noticed that only the twins’ bedrolls were occupied in the other lean-to. Leal was on watch tonight, so it was no surprise that he wasn’t around. I must have heard Rian walk past on his way to the bathroom, she concluded as she laid back down. Desta stared blankly at the waxed-cotton canvas above, waiting for sleep to overtake her once again.

  She tried to make herself relax, but the harder she tried, the more awake she felt. Her mind was bouncing from one idle thought to another when, suddenly, she felt a quick, yet definite tug on her big toe. Desta shot upright, pulling her foot away at the same time. There, squatting at the end of her blankets, was her traitorous, former boyfriend.

  “What are you doing here?” Her voice cracked as she spat the words at him.

  His face contorted into a mix of alarm and concern. “There’s someone hiding in the trees!” He shouted it so loudly it made Desta’s ears ring. No sooner did the words leave his lips than he vanished—as if he had never been there at all.

  Desta’s eyes flew open, this time to the waking world and not dreamland. She bolted to a sitting position with her heart hammering in her chest. On one side of her, Caeneus lay facing Raysel. His breathing was steady and regular. On the other side, Jarold was flat on his back snoring softly. The campsite in front of her was still and quiet. Just as it should be. It was only a dream, she repeated to herself over and over like a mantra. The shock from catching the twins peeping on her earlier must have brought the nightmare on.

  Though she now felt wide awake, Desta settled back into her sleeping bag and stared up at the canvas overhead. The shelters had been set up in case the passing storm turned southward overnight, but it seemed that they hadn’t been necessary after all. Nonetheless, every now and then, a distant, low rumbling served as a reminder that the storm was not that far away.

  A gentle rattling nearby caught Desta’s attention. It was so soft that she wondered if the sound had been a product of her imagination. The strangeness of the noise made it feel as if her ears were tingling, and she strained to see if she would hear it again.

  “The books are probably inside the wagon.” The words were spoken in the faintest of voices. Desta wouldn’t have been sure of what she heard if she hadn’t already been listening intently.

  She was about to sit up to see who was talking when a hand clamped down over her mouth. Instinctively, she bit into the meaty palm as hard as she could. The arm of her captor twitched in response, but there was no exclamation of pain, and his vice grip did not loosen.

  “Shh! It’s me!” Jarold’s urgent whisper in her ear came as both a relief and a shock. “When we move, get behind me and stay behind me.” Desta nodded minutely, so rigidly frozen by fear that she was unable to muster any other response.

  “Intruders! To arms!” Raysel yelled, springing to his feet with his sword at the ready.

  Jarold released his hold on her as the entire campsite erupted in a flurry of activity. Although the incident was over in a mere matter of minutes, to Desta it felt as if the fighting lasted for hours. Adrenaline heightened her senses, and the world seemed to slow, making her aware of her surroundings in vivid detail.

  The two intruders drew their swords and lunged at Raysel and Caeneus. Before Jarold could render support, a third man rushed out from the trees behind the twins’ lean-to, swinging his sword wildly at Cole. Cole dodged by dropping to the ground and fluidly swept out the man’s feet. The man was so tall and thin that the maneuver sent him toppling to the ground like a tree felled by a woodsman.

  A sudden movement, out of the corner of her eye, caught Desta’s attention. She turned just in time to see the vibrating shaft of an arrow protruding from the side of the wagon. Had that been shot by a friend or foe? Desta’s eyes scanned the trees for an indication, but nothing was visible within the darkness deepened by their branches.

  She watched as Raysel’s sword clashed with the intruders’ over and over again. Rather than fighting together with Caeneus and taking on the men one-on-one, Ray
sel was fending off the pair by himself. Blood seeped from a gash on his arm, coloring the sleeve of his shirt in a scarlet stain from the elbow down. Caeneus hovered close behind, brandishing his sword. He moved in concert with Raysel, as if executing the steps of a well-rehearsed dance, effectively trapping their opponents against the side of the wagon. A second arrow sliced through the air, splitting the gap between Raysel and Caeneus, before burying its fierce point in the neck of one of the intruders. The sword tumbled from the man’s hand, and he dropped to the ground in a heap alongside it.

  Freed from the encumbrance of fighting two opponents at once, Thorn sang in Raysel’s hand, carving with lethal grace. The blade ebbed and flowed like liquid metal with each parry and lunge. The man’s defenses were gradually worn away until the final, fatal blow was struck. He crumpled to the ground with one bellowing groan and moved no more.

  Cole yelped. A rivulet of blood emerged from his injured forearm and streamed toward his fingertips. The third intruder had recovered himself and now, upon seeing his fallen comrades, resumed wildly lashing out at anything and anyone around him. Cole and Eloc confronted him, but the man’s untrained thrashing prevented them from getting close enough to use their hand-to-hand expertise to subdue him.

  Jarold sprang forward, and there was a resounding clang as his sword deflected the man’s next attempted slash. “You two get back and keep Desta safe. Your hands may be weapons, but flesh is no match against steel.” He squared his shoulders, ready to challenge his opponent.

  The difference in skill level between the lanky, frantic man and athletic, stoic Jarold was as sharp as the contrast in their appearances. The man let out a desperate howl as he charged forward. His erratic jab was neatly deflected, and the sword flew from his grip, rolling through the dirt toward the cold remains of the campfire. In one smooth motion, Jarold transitioned the disarming stroke into a piercing thrust that drove into the man’s chest. He withdrew his weapon with a twist, and by the time the discarded sword came to rest in the ashes, its owner lay unmoving in a crimson pool.

  Panting, Desta huddled between Cole and Eloc, watching and waiting for what would happen next. The calm that then descended on the camp seemed unnatural after the furor of the skirmish. The insects continued chirping exactly as they had before anything had happened, their nightly song unaffected and uninterrupted by the outcome of the fight. Desta braced herself in expectation that someone else would burst forth from the trees.

  And someone did…but they were not an enemy.

  Rian emerged from the gloom with his bow in hand and quiver slung across his back. “The woods in this area are empty,” he said as he surveyed the scene in front of him. “Where is Leal?”

  “I haven’t seen him since going to bed,” Eloc said without looking away from his brother’s injured forearm.

  Rian followed Eloc’s eyes. “How severe is it, Cole?” he asked.

  “It’s just a nick,” Cole assured him. “It looks worse than it is.”

  “But you’re bleeding!” Desta exclaimed.

  “Even if it is only a nick, you still need to take care of it,” Eloc protested at the same time.

  “I agree,” Rian said. “Jarold and Eloc, go and search for Leal. While you’re at it, do a perimeter check to make sure there are no others lying in wait to surprise us.” The two men nodded and dashed into the trees in roughly the same spot the third intruder had jumped out from.

  Raysel stood, after having bent down and rolled over the two bodies nearest the wagon to see their faces. He yanked the arrow shaft out from the side of the wagon. “I don’t know why you had your bow with you this late at night, but I am grateful for your help earlier,” he said to Rian.

  “I wasn’t tired yet, so I went to soak my feet in the hot spring while I straightened my arrows and checked the fletchings,” Rian explained. “I heard the commotion and ran back, but since I had the element of surprise, I hid in the trees to provide backup. Even so, it seems my help came a bit too late. Is your arm alright?”

  Raysel looked down at his arm indifferently, as if the gash were of no consequence. “It does hurt quite a bit, but I think I will be fine. I was so caught up in the fight that I hardly felt it.”

  Caeneus climbed down from inside the wagon with Ildiko’s medical kit in hand. He gave the bodies a wide berth as he navigated past them to reach Raysel’s side. “That’s a deep cut. I can’t believe you didn’t notice it!” he exclaimed.

  “There were more important things to worry about then,” Raysel replied, giving Caeneus a significant look. “And there are more important things to worry about right now, too.”

  “But that’s your sword arm! It needs to be treated immediately,” Caeneus insisted.

  “It will have to wait for now,” Raysel argued.

  “Don’t be stubborn,” Rian chided. “You and Cole need to care for your wounds. The rest of us can deal with this…mess. Do we even know who they are or why they attacked?”

  “Like you have room to call someone stubborn,” Raysel snapped. He drew in a sharp breath and exhaled it slowly. When he spoke again, his usual mild tone had returned. “I don’t recognize either of these men, and there’s nothing on them to indicate their identities or why they are here.”

  Desta twisted her fingers together nervously. The voice she heard earlier had been barely audible. Was she really certain that she had heard it correctly? She strengthened her resolve. Now was not the time to hesitate. “I think they were after the books,” she said.

  “What makes you think that?” Caeneus asked.

  “Before the fighting started, I heard someone say, ‘The books are probably inside the wagon,’ ” Desta answered. “It was hard to hear so I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure that’s what they said.”

  Raysel’s fists clenched and unclenched reflexively as he considered the implications of that statement. “I wouldn’t be surprised if bandits attempted to steal our strongboxes or goods that they could sell quickly. But books, regardless of how old or rare they are, would hold no value to common thieves. If Desta did hear them right, then these men are most likely Senka operatives.”

  “Why do you think they could be operatives and not actual members of the Senka?” Caeneus questioned.

  “Both of the men I fought were clearly trained, but not highly skilled, swordsmen,” Raysel explained. “I would not have been able to take on two Senka at once.”

  “Even if they were only operatives, their presence here tonight means that the Senka are aware of the fact that we are seeking books. And if they were interested enough in the books to attempt a raid, then they probably know that we are no ordinary merchants,” Rian added.

  Raysel nodded grimly. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. Are there any clues on the third man?”

  “I’ll check,” Cole said from a few feet away. He squatted down and rolled the corpse over to search the front pockets. The dead man’s face, forever frozen in a rictus of pain, turned skyward. “I definitely haven’t seen him before.”

  Raysel’s gaze fixated on the man’s face, and his eyes narrowed into slits as he stormed to Cole’s side. He loomed over the body, his expression a mixture of wrath and disgust that twisted his normally handsome features into an incarnation of fury.

  “You wouldn’t recognize this person, but I do. His name is Brigs,” Raysel hissed. “We’ve been betrayed.”

  Although his ire was not directed at her, the severity of Raysel’s reaction to the traitor sent Desta shuffling sideways to seek refuge behind Caeneus. There was little time to dwell on the discovery, however. A crashing sound arose from the underbrush not far from the wagon, and Rian, Raysel, and Caeneus drew their swords, readying themselves for another confrontation.

  Then, they all heard Eloc call out, “It’s just us. We found Leal.”

  It was not long before Eloc and Jarold marched back into the clearing, supporting Leal’s unconscious form between them. His head lolled around with each step, and his left eye was swo
llen shut and turning a nasty shade of purple. A streak of dried blood ran down from his temple where a goose egg had already formed.

  Desta peeked out from behind Caeneus. “I-Is he still alive?” she stammered.

  “Yes, fortunately,” Jarold answered. “It looks like he was ambushed before he had a chance to draw his sword.”

  “Take him to one of the beds inside the wagon,” Raysel instructed. “We need to break camp and get moving as quickly as possible. Where there are operatives, the Senka themselves are likely not far behind.”

  Raysel’s mind raced, formulating his plan to elude the Senka as he spoke. “If we sleep in shifts inside the wagon and pause only long enough to rest the horses, we can make it to Rhea in two days. Governor Alden is one of our few remaining allies. He knows who we are, and he knows who the Senka are. Once we get to Rhea, we should be able to convince him to close the border. Our injuries are proof enough that we’ve been attacked.”

  “Then we should start packing and prepare to go immediately,” Caeneus said.

  “Wait! We can’t just leave these men here in the open, can we? The animals will…” Desta’s voice trailed off. She didn’t want to finish that thought.

  Rian could see by the expression on Raysel’s face what his answer to that question would be. “We need to bury the bodies,” he said before Raysel had a chance to speak. “Not so much out of respect for the dead but to make it harder for the Senka to determine what happened to them.”

  Caeneus nodded in agreement. “At least we have shovels for digging out of ruts in the road. We can use those to dig the graves,” he said.

  “You’re right,” Raysel conceded. “Eloc, Rian, and Jarold get the shovels and find a spot to bury them that won’t be easy to find. In the meantime, Cole, you and I will tend to our wounds and care for Leal. Caeneus and Desta can start taking down the lean-tos and putting away the bedrolls.”

  The group dispersed to begin their solemn tasks. As Desta tagged along behind Caeneus, the memory of Raysel’s expression when he looked down at Brigs came unbidden into her mind. Since the very first night they met, she had known that all of these men were skilled fighters who shared the goal of restoring Chiyo’s independence. She had admired their dedication and regarded them as honorable guardians of her country. But, despite Raysel’s repeated attempts to warn her before she joined the group, she hadn’t really fully understood the reality of what was involved with pursuing that goal until tonight. Clashes between these men and their enemies were not like elegant duels from storybooks. Even though the outcome had been in their favor, she had no doubt that the events of this night would be fuel for many nightmares to come.