“That’ll keep them wondering what the hell to do for a while,” Adira said.
“If they’re smart, they’ll take those little warning shots and drag their asses back into the interior of the north,” Ashni replied.
Adira shook her head. “You know they’re going to stick around, trying to figure out what we’re up to and make our lives Hell while we get the bridge going. We really should’ve put some forts on the shore.”
“If we knew people lived in that graveyard, yeah, but they should all be dead.” And, if they were not being pains in the ass, Ashni would’ve been happy they were alive. It would’ve been pleasing to find out that asshole Caligo Mor hadn’t murdered all of his subjects, but now they were behaving like vermin, a survival tactic for sure. While she had no plans to wipe them out, she couldn’t let them do as they pleased as she tried to reorder the West. In the long run, this might even help them. They might learn to live off of their land, revive their land.
The work done at night had the barbarians baffled. Reports from Ashni’s scouts came in on how the tribes marveled over how more bits of the bridge appeared. During the day, the tribes didn’t dare put their boats in the water again. Since their arrows and stones couldn’t reach Ashni’s people yet, the barbarians seemed content to merely watch Ashni’s soldiers. When the bridge got close enough, the barbarians tried to set it on fire with flaming arrows. But, Adira’s people had thought of that. The bridge was covered in animal hides treated with special alum and other retardants created by the engineers to make setting it ablaze nearly impossible. The barbarians would think it was magic.
“This is remarkable,” Wicus said, eyes full of awe as he took in the sight of the completed bridge. The tribes across the water had to feel that even more so. There was a full assault right before them, lined up, ready for war, and the barbarians didn’t have the numbers to stop it.
Ashni scoffed. “This was the easy part.”
They didn’t have a bunch of furious soldiers in their faces as they did this. Construction was easy without constant bombardment.
“Yeah, ask me to do something hard now,” Adira said.
Layla held up her hand. “Us. Ask us to do something hard now.” She pointed to herself, her husband, and then Adira.
Ashni raised her chin in the air. “Make sure these mangy mutts never trouble one of my cities again.”
Hafiz rubbed his large hands together. “We asked for a challenge and you give us that?”
“Then show me,” Ashni said.
Ashni led the army across the bridge. They marched slowly, orderly. The barbarians needed to see every disciplined, armored soldier. Every piece of tactile equipment. Every monster that one of her officers claimed was a warhorse, Hafiz especially on Yata and Layla on her demon-horse. This wasn’t an army. This was an unstoppable entity. It was a creature built to change the world. What did they have that could match it?
For a long moment, the barbarians seemed stuck. They stood from behind the brush, gawking. Maybe now they understood what the Roshan was.
The bridge groaned. Soon, arrows, rocks, and caltrops came their way, but it wasn’t enough to stop them. Shields and armor protected against the projectiles and they brushed aside any caltrops. The closer they came, the more the barbarians disappeared into the brush.
Landing on the other side of the river, the air changed to a mismatch of recovery and decay. Fresh grass mixed with rot, a leftover from the king of the dead, Caligo Mor. He’d always hold a special hatred for Ashni and Adira; Ashni for daring to marry her hellcat and Adira for disrespecting the dead.
The small, dry leaves fluttered on the trees, but the trees were thin, cracked, and spaced far apart. Shrubby and colored flowers dotted the land. And the noise! Birds flew and twittered, and the wind blew a gentle breeze through the sparse trees. To think the Northerners who survived Caligo could be enjoying the new life, but instead wanted Ashni to finish what that rotten bastard started.
“According to reports, one tribe set up an ambush for us,” Adira said.
“They still didn’t unify after watching us build that bridge?” Ashni asked. What the hell was wrong with people? The smart thing would’ve been to come together as one while Ashni and her people were getting across the river.
“No, but some were impressed,” Adira said.
Ashni rolled her eyes. “But not enough to negotiate?” Which would’ve also been smart but didn’t seem to be on the barbarians “to do” list.
“A show of force should do.” Layla smirked. “We need to remind them how we conquered the West in the first place.”
It was exactly what Ashni wanted and the easy way to accomplish that was to destroy the ambush. The army split up. Ashni and Wicus led the major force to the ambush while Adira took some light infantry forces to come in from the left. Hafiz took cavalry to come from the right. Layla and Naren had their group and would come from behind.
“You barely discussed this plan before you each moved to your part,” Wicus said. His face was mostly hidden under his helm, but she could hear the slight confusion in his tone.
Ashni shrugged. “We’ve been together long enough to know how this works. Adira’s brain is almost identical to mine in terms of warfare, and Layla is me.”
This wasn’t the most intricate strategy, but it would get the job done. She and the troops came to a narrow passage with a high cliff to one side. As soon as they were on that ledge, the onslaught began.
Midnight Thunder’s ear twitched as a couple of arrows zipped past them before a storm of arrows and boulders came from above. Echoes of them thumping against shields hummed low in her ears. Midnight Thunder paused as hot oil rained down on them, but as soon as it was gone, they pressed on. Ashni was more concerned with not being able to see the action up top than anything else.
“Careful as you cross!” Ashni called down her lines. They were bound to lose more people due to mistakes than this lackluster effort.
Swords clashed above them, screams filling the air. Adira made her presence known. That had to be an unpleasant surprise.
Dirt slid down the cliff but less projectiles rained down. Ashni got to join in on the action as she came to the end of the narrow ledge. The barbarian warriors showed their hand too soon and revealed themselves the moment Ashni was on more solid ground. Faces painted with ash and fur-covered bodies rushed her with spears in hand. If they only wanted to dispatch her, perhaps this tactic would work, but if they had hopes of catching more of her troops off guard, they had blown that opportunity. Most of their ambush had been killed already.
Ashni drew her swords. Midnight Thunder pushed forward, itching for a challenge. Several arrows headed for her but Ashni sliced through them all. She leaped into a crowd of foes. They were scrawny compared to her warriors. Hungry in all the wrong ways.
Without armor, her blades sailed through their flesh with an ease she had forgotten existed. A couple of her opponents stared as she sliced someone in half at the waist. Their eyes, hollow until then, flashed with fear.
“If you think that’s something, you don’t want to see me throw lightning,” Ashni said as she turned to take down another one. Did these people not understand she was the Chosen One? She was the carrier of her father’s legacy and he was the Son of the Sun. She was divine.
Ashni turned to see how her army fared. They flooded into the area from the cliff side and decimated the enemy’s meager forces. Their lines were as thin as they were in a matter of minutes. Barbarians retreating from the top of the cliff came into the space, trying to escape Adira, Hafiz, Layla, and Naren. They ran from one slaughter to the next.
Cutting through another foe, blood splattered onto her face. The droplets ignited more of a fire in her, and she cut her way through more barbarians. As the noise of battle died down, Ashni turned to look for Adira or Layla, checking to see if the fight was really wrapping up. She caught a glimpse of Adira at the top of the cliff. Pointing, Adira seemed to be giving orders. Ashni stal
ked around for prey but found none.
“Good job,” Wicus said from nearby, still atop his horse, with corpses at his feet. His helmet and bloodied sword glinted, as he waited for something else to happen. His face glistened in the sun, sweat dripping from the tip of his nose.
Ashni raised her sword in thanks and opened her mouth to respond. A sharp pain caught her in the back of her shoulder. She gasped. Turning, she saw an archer not too far away. The arrow caught her in the gap between her armor and neck. She broke the shaft, cursing herself for not seeing the man. One of her soldiers cut the archer down.
She didn’t think anything of the arrow.
But then, the world tilted.
She stumbled.
Falling to one knee, she leaned forward, trying not to throw up. Blood dripped from somewhere, and she watched the droplets hit the dirt, causing a small crimson pool. Spots floated in her vision.
“Poison,” she muttered.
Ashni had been poisoned before, but she had never had this sort of reaction. The world went black. She thought about Nakia. Her face hit the dry earth, and then nothing.
Chapter Three
PEOPLE ASSUMED NAKIA DIDN’T have time to miss Ashni, but there was always a dull ache, hollow in her chest. Haunted by the specter of her beloved, she felt it most when on the throne.
Their throne was wide, meant for two. Nakia patted the cool, empty space of the pillow next to her. She and Saad, one of her engineers, were trying to figure out plans for the canal they needed to construct to keep Thia and Wicus happy. Saad had no good answers with his dark green eyes looking everywhere but her face. What if you have to come up with something? We both know you can’t actually do this on your own.
“Why is it impossible to get the canal done in this time frame? Once the military returns, we should have the resources to start,” Nakia said. They had to keep the soldiers busy to justify paying them anyway.
Saad shook his head, long, wavy, ebony hair fanning around him. “It’s not about manpower. It would be impossible to get the materials in that time.” He tugged at his flowing emerald sleeve of Roshan-style robes.
Nakia frowned. That didn’t sound right. She had seen the military work miracles in the battlefield and most didn’t have anything to do with fighting. “And if I get a second opinion?”
Saad twisted his mouth and shrugged. “Highness, no one will tell you otherwise.”
She pursed her lips. “Even Saniyah?”
“Highness…” He bowed, probably to buy time to order his thoughts and not insult her mentor. “Saniyah’s a great war engineer, but not an expert on earth works.”
“No, Saniyah has enough imagination to solve issues on battlefields she’s never been on. I once thought you had the same amount of imagination. This is disappointing.” Her frown cut deeper, as a nasty voice filled her head. You’re more disappointing.
He flinched. “Highness, I promise you, I will work this out.” Then he scurried away, leather sandals slapping against the stone floor in his haste.
“You were hard on him,” Varaza Sur said. She stood off to the side, dressed in unassuming clothing. Her size made her quite noticeable, but from her casual tone, not many people would guess she was the captain of Nakia’s personal guard, and she liked it that way. Ashni liked it that way.
Nakia waved the words off. “I know he can do it. If not, I’ll have Saniyah figure it out.”
Varaza gave her a lopsided grin. “She’s a genius.”
“He’s one, too.” He had proven that several times. She needed him to do that once more.
Varaza shrugged. “Not all are equal. There are levels.”
“I don’t expect him to be on her level, just near it.” Nakia eyed the large woman. “We made a promise, and we like to keep it.”
Varaza chuckled. “I know. It’s how I got this gig, after all.”
Nakia fought down a smirk and shook her head. “I think there was a hope it would mature you as well.”
“Never! Though it did help me meet my future spouse.”
“You better stop chasing that boy around.”
Varaza clicked her tongue. “He’s cute. Besides, I’ve noticed being yourself seems to pay off, thanks to you and yours.”
Nakia couldn’t argue that. Her attitude had caught Ashni’s attention. Ashni thought she was bold, brash, and beautiful, even when she was putting up a front. For all of her disquieting thoughts, she maintained her attitude. It had brought her this far. Put up a facade and hope no one challenges it? You’re setting yourself up, just like when you met Ashni. She ignored the hateful thoughts.
“What do I have to tend to next?” Nakia asked, needing to keep busy. There were servants milling about, but she wasn’t addressing any of them.
Varaza didn’t answer. It was her way of letting Nakia know it wasn’t her job to keep track of appointments, but to keep Nakia safe, Varaza had to be aware of Nakia’s schedule. Her next appointment entered, Layla’s father.
Badar never failed to make the hair on the back of Nakia’s neck stand up. He looked pleasant, friendly, almost soft. Tall and lean, there were times Nakia thought his students could break Badar in half. She knew better.
“Are you ready for your lessons, Highness?” he asked with a bow. He was always polite to her. He never tried to be domineering with Nakia, the opposite of her own father.
“I’m glad you showed up today,” Nakia replied.
He taught her self-defense, but there were times he couldn’t make the lessons. In his stead, he sent his mother or his wife. They were possibly the toughest teachers Nakia ever had.
Badar smiled, showing all his teeth. His dark eyes sparkled. It wasn’t until Nakia met him that she understood how Layla fell for Naren. Seeing that easy, almost carefree expression all of her life, it probably caught her by surprise to see it on someone her age. “I see no reason why our hour should be interrupted,” he said.
“You say that until you get word your other pupils are reading the wrong passages in your sacred text and then I’m forgotten,” she replied with a smile of her own. He had run out on her a few times to tend to his true students, warrior monks, she guessed. No one ever called them anything after they stopped being students. They learned religion, philosophy, martial arts, mystical arts, magic, and other lifestyles from Badar, though that might just be the education of all Shadow Walkers. She got a small taste of it without having to make her way to their Temple of Darkness or Badar’s academy.
“That is why I send my wife or my mother,” he said.
She flinched. She still preferred Badar to Samar or Iamar. Part of her wondered if she was trying to make him her father figure. She tried not to think too hard on it, especially since she could hear echoes of her father in the back of her mind.
“I want only the best for you,” Badar added.
Nakia snickered. “You don’t have to pour it on.”
They exited the Grand Hall and made their way to Nakia’s personal training room adjacent to an open garden. The room gave off more of an office vibe. There were scrolls lining the walls, all given to her by Shadow Walkers she knew, including Layla and Naren. There were texts Layla felt Nakia needed to know if she was going to learn anything from a Shadow Walker, even if she wasn’t learning more than the basics. The gesture was funny but endearing. They were excited about their craft and culture and liked to share if they deemed a person worthy.
Badar always reminded her that she was learning how to defend herself in order to get away, not start a fight. Nakia didn’t want to be a brawler, but she didn’t want to need rescuing all of the time. Badar was kind and patient with her, even when she stumbled.
They started with stances. How she was expected to use her weight to get people off of her or away from her. Whenever she was angled wrong or her footing was incorrect, he showed her how she should be. If she didn’t correct herself, he would ask permission to touch her before shifting her. She had seen this same man lay out his daughter if she left him
an opening. Then again, she had also witnessed Layla do the same if her father gave her a chance.
Beyond stances, she learned holds, how to throw simple punches and kicks, weak points on the body, and pressure points. There was practice with using knives and darts, weapons she could conceal in her clothing.
Badar was comfortable with throwing her to help her understand the move, but he still tried not to hurt her. Hitting the floor often hurt, regardless. Demonstrating her comprehension of the lesson was tougher than that.
It was easier now than when she started, as self-defense was different than anything she had ever done. She was fortunate to have the body for it, even if her muscles still ached after each session. Ashni claimed she could feel the difference, but Nakia didn’t see any added muscle. Still, training made her feel good all around, physically, emotionally, and even spiritually.
Badar also introduced Nakia to the basics of the way of Darkness. It was more than religion for his people. He called it “more than a way of life.” He made it seem like this vast entity that no one would ever understand, but everyone was connected to.
Nakia was able to add it to her own religious beliefs. Darkness was unknown, but it wasn’t to be feared. The unknown wasn’t to be feared. So, don’t be scared to do your duty on your own. You can do it. Find the strength within you because it’s around you.
Darkness didn’t conceal the truth but was part of the truth. To find the truth, sometimes one needed to seek it in the unknown. This helped her navigate her responsibilities as consort, especially when Ashni was away.
“Good. Your movements have tightened and are smoother,” Badar said, grinning when their session ended.
Nakia tried to fight down the flutter in her chest from his praise. “Thank you so much for this.”
“I’m always here for you, little moon.” He ruffled her hair. Maybe, sometimes he looked at her as one of his children. “Until next session.” Badar vanished into a shadow.
Sore, Nakia had a bath to relax, looking forward to having lunch with Saffi, Bashira, and Saniyah next. It was the only free time she had during the day to see them until the evening meal. That lack of free time was one of the most annoying things about being in charge. This was why Ashni was often cranky, wanting to do so much, but having to be responsible.
Blood Rain (Warrior Class Book 3) Page 4
