by K. F. Breene
No one moved. This team was experienced, and lethal.
A chill arrested Sanders. The army had become something else with the addition of Shadows and Shumas. He wasn’t sure what to expect.
“Let’s go.” The Captain turned and started off at a fast walk, Shanti at his side.
Sanders stepped forward before the Shumas swarmed around him. No one took out their swords. Instead, they armed themselves with knives in silence. They were ready for the stealth kill.
Another chill raced up his spine. Shit had just got real.
Without a word, the pace slowed. The Shumas fanned out to the sides, Kallon giving him a tiny nudge as Sayas plucked at his sleeve from the other side. Apparently they wanted him to follow Sayas.
“Just say it,” Sanders whispered.
“You read language when words steal us.” Sayas flashed him a grin. “Hope you learn speed, yes?”
“Never mind. Don’t say it. You’re out of your league.” Sanders followed the thinner man to a covering of trees. Once there, they advanced slowly. Sanders marveled at the soft steps and careful feet of the Shumas. With exceptional balance, they let a foot hang in the air before deciding where to put it, avoiding anything that could rustle or crackle. Often, with the foot off the ground, they would also contort their bodies, avoiding dried leaves or low-hanging branches.
“You’re putting me to shame,” Sanders mumbled. The sound deadened on his lips.
After about a hundred yards, they stopped and crouched. Sanders, not able to feel anything, crawled forward on his hands and knees, and then dropped to his stomach.
A couple of hundred yards in front of him, cleared of trees, squatted the dingy wall of the Mugdock city. Great holes marred it in places, crumbling the stone into rubble. One side of the gate was ripped from its hinges and lay to the side, a bent and damaged mess. A black-clad man stood at the mouth, leaning against the wall.
Thick fingers drummed Sanders’ shoulder. He looked back.
Sayas used those fingers to point to the right.
Sanders followed the vague point and saw another pointed finger.
Words. Words were so much simpler.
Sanders crawled backward until he could stand, and then went in the direction of the waggling digits. He found the Captain.
Sanders dropped to one knee as the Captain started speaking in a low tone. “I’d say a battering ram took down that gate. The wall wasn’t made of strong stuff—it might’ve fallen with the forced entry. The Mugdock never worried that we’d come for them—unless they’d stolen something of ours. They’ve never needed a heavy defense.”
“They attacked us, though.” Sanders shook his head. “The Inkna initiated the attack, using the Mugdock. Why would the Mugdock agree to work with a people that forced their way in?”
“I suspect they didn’t at first,” Shanti said, still facing the city. “The Inkna probably offered material rewards. Then when the Mugdock didn’t fulfill their obligation, the Inkna would’ve had no use for them apart from their city. If the people aren’t needed for harvesting goods, then they are disposed of.”
The Captain’s knuckles turned white on his sword hilt. “Their mental power would’ve pushed them away from the walls, leaving the Graygual free to force their way in.”
Shanti pushed forward onto her knees. “I can identify one higher officer. I know their type. There might be a few sex slaves, but…” She lowered her head in concentration. A small movement had her turning toward them. “I think they might be prostitutes. They are there for some purpose, not out of fear. I would guess a working woman.”
“Know something of them, do you?” Sanders growled.
“Yes,” she said.
Sanders knew a shocked moment before he let it go. That was the Captain’s problem.
“How many Inkna?” Sanders asked.
“A handful, only one with higher power,” the Captain answered, moving away from the crest of the hill before standing. Sanders did likewise. “We can take them down easily.”
Shanti’s people flocked in from the sides. “A host of Graygual, kept in line by a few officers. It is like the Hunter’s camp, only with much less skill.”
“Are you sure about that?” the Captain asked.
“Mostly,” Shanti answered.
“Oh, well, that’s reassuring.” Sanders spat to the side.
“Let’s talk with Daniels.” The Captain pushed through everyone, headed back to the line of horses. “I only want to bring as many forces as we need.”
“All due respect, sir,” Sanders said as he kept to the Captain’s side. “We may not need all our number to take out the enemy, but we do need to learn to work together. We have some greenies with us—we have three different peoples, plus one or two of the Duke’s men thrown in for kicks. We need some none-too-threatening practice before the time comes when we will need our whole force, and then some.”
The Captain paused. A low equine moan made his head snap up. A warning flashed through his blue eyes, shutting Shanti’s animal up. “You have a point,” the Captain said, fingering his chin. “A very good point. I’ll speak with Daniels. Let’s aim for tomorrow at dawn.”
“No. We should go tonight. At dusk.” Kallon shot a sharp look at the Captain. His tone brooked no argument. “Don’t let inexperienced fighters stew all night over what is to come. Let them go while their adrenaline is at its peak. There will be less dying.”
“That counts as a challenge in this land, Kallon,” Shanti said in a singsong voice. “Now you’ve stepped in it.”
The Captain’s jaw clenched and his eyes flashed for the second time. His arms came away from his sides a little, lending just a little more size to an already large, muscular man. Sanders would not like to be in Kallon’s shoes. Not for all the peace and quiet in the world.
“We’ll deal with this another time, you and I,” the Captain said in an even tone. The hair prickled on Sanders’ arms. Shanti’s lips spread into a smile.
The Captain stalked away but Shanti lingered behind. Her smile grew brighter. “Here’s what went wrong.” She ticked off a finger. “You’re assuming he doesn’t know how to lead and you do.” She ticked off another finger. “You are forgetting the days before I developed our communication technique and the chaos during even small battles.” Sayas started laughing as she ticked off a third finger. “You challenged a man like that.” She patted him on the shoulder. “And won’t admit that I still don’t want to fuck you.”
The rest of the Shumas bent over in laughter as Kallon’s expression flashed confusion. “I thought fuck meant something gone wrong… It means sex?”
They all laughed harder.
Sanders shook his head and moved away to his horse. “I miss the quiet life where everyone had some kernel of sanity.” He poked the air with his index finger, picking out people. “Scout out the location, get sentries organized, and see if you can find the places to hunker down.”
“Yes, sir!” they shouted in unison.
“And remember that we’re in enemy territory. Keep your voices down.”
“Yes, sir.” Still too loud.
Sanders stalked after the Captain. Battle was on the horizon. Sanders wanted to know exactly what he was going to be up against.
8
Marc patted down his sleeping fur, trying to make it so nothing could crawl in when he wasn’t around. He glanced up at the sky, mapping out the stars to make sure he knew which direction he faced. It would look bad if he wandered around the camp in utter confusion—he was part of the experienced group now. He’d been through a few battles, and he knew what to expect. He was supposed to look out for the first-timers.
Or so Sanders had said. Marc was under no misconceptions that he could help.
His foot cracked a twig as he made his way to the main eating area. He flinched and then paused, staring at the huge pools of inky black ahead of him, hoping no one popped out with a sword and a manic smile. The sentries had mental ability, but you just
never knew. Someone could get through. Weirder things had happened.
The broken twig crackled as he shifted his weight to look behind, and he flinched again. Shanti would punch him in the head if she heard him. He was supposed to be better at this.
Seeing no movement, he continued ahead through the brittle grass. Shapes to his right caught his eye, a small group of people sitting in a cluster. He glanced up at the moonless sky, and then tweaked his direction. More shapes moved away left. A horse huffed. Continuing on, he ducked into the trees and immediately put out his hand to feel his way. Visibility was so poor that he had no idea how other people got around. Some passed him at a normal walk, wandering by like it was broad daylight.
He felt something soft and warm slide across his leg. He jumped and stepped away. His foot caught the edge of a stone and rolled, sending his body pitching to the side. Arms out wide, he windmilled and then staggered, grunting as his chest met someone else’s.
That someone was a woman. With round, full breasts.
A fist caught him just below the ribs, offsetting the tingling in his body.
“Sorry!” he wheezed, clutching his side and staggering away.
“What is your problem?” Ruisa hissed.
“I can’t very well see, can I?” He looked around his feet. “Those big cats are around, aren’t they?”
“The Captain and S’am are in the officers’ area talking over tomorrow.”
Marc stared at her face, waiting for more. He didn’t get any. “So?”
“So the cats usually stick around the Captain and S’am, which are right over there.” Her shadowed hand went out to the right.
“Ah.” He straightened out his uniform. “They make me nervous. They’re like ghosts.”
“Me too.” She turned and started away. He followed, hoping it was in the direction of food.
The murmur of voices rose up from those sitting in clusters. The wild grass thinned out, making it easier to step through without being able to see. He threaded his way around a group and then turned sideways to avoid the thinner frame of what was probably a Shadow or Shumas.
Finally they reached a large circle of people sitting in the darkness. Judging by the lack of a line or any larger men, this wasn’t where he thought he’d been heading.
“I thought you were going to get food?” Marc glanced up at the sky and then looked out to the right. Why he bothered was anyone’s guess. He couldn’t tell what was out there any more than he could tell what was in the other direction.
“The Captain had the women’s rations separated, and apparently lumped the Honor Guard in. We brought it here.” Ruisa sighed and dropped to the ground. “I’d thought we’d get the preferential treatment a little longer.”
“You don’t deserve it.” That sounded like Rachie’s voice. The speaker shifted on the other side of the large circle.
Marc shuffled in next to Ruisa, hoping the hulking frame that looked like Xavier didn’t have his fingers resting on the ground. If Marc accidentally sat on them, he’d surely get a punch. Coming from Xavier, that wouldn’t feel great. His ribs still hurt.
“Do you need to be right on top of me?” Xavier huffed before backing out of the circle a little, making more room for Marc.
“Here.” Ruisa crawled forward to the center of the circle, and then came back with dried meat, bread, and cheese. “This is what we’ve got.”
Marc would have eaten a raw fish he was so hungry. He tore a chunk out of the lump of bread.
“I overheard Sanders talking,” Ruisa said, crossing her legs and leaning her forearms on her knees. “He said their defenses seem minimal and there aren’t that many on the inside. That they probably sent everyone to attack our city.”
“They didn’t attack—they just kind of…camped out.” That sounded like Gracas.
“Whatever. You know what I mean.” Ruisa huffed. “Sanders didn’t think the Graygual thought they’d be attacked. The ones here, I mean. I don’t know what was going on with the ones in our lands.”
“That guy Kallon.” That feminine rasp sounded like Maggie. “He said it would be better to go quickly so we didn’t have all night to stew in fear. That it would be bad for the inexperienced to wait.”
A great many shadows around the large circle shifted. Feet scraped against the ground and heads ducked. Maggie had hit on the worry that a great many were clearly feeling.
“You didn’t have the Captain when you were trapped in the city,” Xavier said in a firm voice, “so you wouldn’t know that he is an excellent leader. Even S’am is impressed with him, and she’s rarely impressed with anyone. She led Kallon, and she lets the Captain lead her into battle. So that should tell you where Kallon ranks in all of this.”
“The Captain is going to squash him when they fight.” Gracas shifted, but for a different reason than the women.
Marc rolled his eyes and ripped off another mouthful of meat.
“But…what he said made sense,” Alena said in a slightly shaking voice.
“Nah.” Xavier waved the thought away, ramming Marc with his big shoulder. The guy didn’t know how much room he took up. “They need time to plan. Once they have that, they tell all the officers, and then they tell us. So each group is banded together with directions. We’ll get some sleep, refresh, and then we’ll be ready for tomorrow.”
“I don’t know how much I’ll sleep,” one of the women said.
“Even so, you’ll be with experienced warriors,” Ruisa said. “I was scared at first, but Xavier is right about the Captain. And Shanti is always monitoring everyone—us especially. Between the two of them, it works out.”
Xavier shifted again, jarring Marc’s elbow. Scowling, he scooted back as Xavier said, “Every time I get anxious about what’s to come, I think of what the Captain says sometimes: Overcoming fear is the best way to gain confidence. Skirting fear is the fastest way to a hollow bravado. And he’s right.”
Someone blew out their breath. Stillness settled, slow and heavy, expectation so thick it was palpable. Marc finished off his dinner, savored to the last and not quite enough. “I remember my first battle,” Xavier said, bracing his forearms on his knees. “It wasn’t even much of a battle. Not the part I had. It was when the Mugdock attacked and S’am told us to guard our family and friends. I was terrified.”
“I’m always terrified,” Marc admitted. There was no sense in denying it—everyone knew that fact.
“But S’am saw us through,” Xavier continued. “The Captain led the defense, his commanders did their job, and we picked up the slack. We all worked together, and everything worked out. Put your faith and your life in their hands, do what they tell you, and they’ll bring us out.”
“S’am will pull a win out of her ass, don’t you worry,” Rachie said. “She’s gone through some serious shit, and made it out. The woman is a miracle worker.”
“We’ll watch your back,” Gracas said, all bravado.
“They’ll watch ours, actually,” Xavier said. “They’re the archers. They have a longer reach.”
“But…you know…”
Movement around their circle interrupted Gracas’ struggle for the right words. Shapes darted, graceful and silent, skirting by their number. A long shape in a hand announced the brandishing of steel.
“What’s happening?” Xavier said, standing.
One of the shapes slowed in its jog. A woman—possibly Mela—said, “All of you get into the trees. Stick together. Our perimeter has been breached.”
“How many?” Leilius asked, but Mela was already moving away.
Marc felt a jolt of adrenaline. Before he even made the decision, he had a knife in his hand and was clutching Ruisa’s shoulder. She shrugged him off before Xavier’s hand covered Marc’s shoulder and started pushing.
“With me, everyone,” Xavier said.
The circle collapsed toward Xavier like paper crumpling.
“What do we do?” Gracas asked Xavier when they slithered around two tree trunk
s and stopped in the undergrowth.
“Get the more experienced people on the outside of this group,” Xavier said in a hush. “We have no idea how many there are. The mental people can feel the intruders, but that doesn’t mean they can get to all of them in time. Especially if they are fighting with Inkna.”
Marc shoved someone out of the way and stepped forward, his grip too tight on his knife. Trying not to fall into shallow breathing that would make him eventually black out, he focused on the sounds surrounding them, currently drowned out with talking.
“There can’t be that many,” Gracas said. “Or they would be louder, right? This can’t be an attack.”
“It can if they are like the Hunter’s men,” a woman said. “Those guys didn’t say much. They just killed.”
“In the middle of the night?” Rachie said in disbelief.
“Maybe we should shut up so they don’t realize we’re here.” Marc’s words scratched against his too-tight throat. A bead of sweat ran down his temple.
The chatter died away, leaving the utter silence of a nearly black night. Marc widened his eyes, trying to take in more light to see through the black. It was a fruitless effort. The press of silence suffocated him and made it hard to breathe. His hand shook a little; he was more afraid of the unknown than of a shape running at him.
A shout sounded to the distant right, followed by an agonized scream.
Marc flinched and pressed into those around him. The group moved and shifted as the scream rattled off into silence. Into death.
Silence drifted back in like a fog. Ragged breathing sounded behind him. Someone was about to hyperventilate in panic.
Marc slowly worked backward, careful not to make any sound. He picked up his feet slowly, letting them hover in the air before gingerly setting them down. His heart hammered against his ribs and a pulsing rush blared in his ears.
Someone moved out of the way, but didn’t ask him what he was doing. He felt another body shift before he was standing next to a woman with a heaving chest. Her hands held a shaking bow in front of her, terror clearly drowning out her thought. She was very dangerous at that moment.
