Bastial Sentinels (The Rhythm of Rivalry: Book 5)

by Narro, B. T.

  “Stay where you are!” Harold yelled to them. “Or we’ll shoot.”

  All stopped but one woman. With a commanding voice, she threatened, “Let down your bows before we’re forced to hurt you.” She was extraordinarily tall, the hoods of the men behind barely reaching her shoulders. Just as many of them held bows but made no motion toward their quivers.

  Jek noticed Peter unlatching the arrow from his string.

  “Keep ready,” Harold instructed, and Peter reluctantly snagged the arrow back on.

  “Remove your arrows, and put your bows over your shoulders,” the woman urged with a tone that showed no fear. “We’re here to help you.”

  “And how will you prove that?” Harold questioned.

  The woman twisted around. “Bring it through to show them.”

  They shuffled apart, and more men came into view. They were cutting down plants with quick swings of their swords, clearing a path for what followed: a carrier that was no more than a series of identical platforms on wheels, connected back to front. Its contents were hidden by cloths marred with dirt and grime. Below the cloths, Jek could make out the shapes of square crates and tall barrels.

  “We can tell by your green tunics that you are men of Zav and Goldram.” The woman had to bellow to be heard over the grinding and bumping of the caravan’s wheels. “And we have brought this food for you.”

  “Why?” Harold demanded. “Who are you?”

  “I am Klaiya, and we are allies. We can’t let you lose Lake Mercy.”

  Men and women stopped pushing the caravan. A few of them weren’t wearing hoods, and Jek could see by their ears they were Human. With darting eyes, they seemed nervous. But all those standing beside Klaiya in the front were hooded, each looking as calm as a cat stalking prey.

  “Remove your hoods,” Harold said. “Show us your ears.”

  They made no motion.

  “Do it now or we’ll shoot and take the food.”

  “Come here first,” Klaiya said, “and let us speak to each other.”

  Harold signaled with his hand. “Archers, aim!”

  “If you fire, all of you will die!” Klaiya yelled with sudden fury. “Not just those of you here, but everyone back at the bunker!”

  There was movement behind her, many of the men coming to the front with swords and shields. Jek’s heart jumped when he recognized one of them. Standing a head taller than the rest, he knew it was Cleve Polken.

  Reflexively, Jek ran forward with his arms raised. “Stop!”

  “Get back here!” Harold screamed with so much rage it made Jek sick to disobey. But the moment he’d seen Cleve, nothing was going to stop him from finding out more.

  “Jek, is that you?” Cleve came forward.

  “These are not enemies,” Jek shouted back at Harold and anyone who would listen. He and Cleve ran to close the distance, a smile turning Jek’s mouth. Cleve grinned back.

  “It is you,” he said. “What luck.”

  “What the Bastial hell are you doing here?” Jek asked. “Who are these people you’re with?”

  “We’re here to help.”

  “But who do you serve?” Jek asked. Cleve’s smiling mouth shut. “Who’s your leader?” Jek tried again.

  His speeding heart wanted to jump out of his chest when he saw Klaiya coming toward them. “We serve Fatholl.” She pulled down her hood, revealing two pale ears jutting out from a feathery tail of brown hair falling down her back.

  Betrayed, Jek drew his wand, unable to decide whether to shoot Cleve or Klaiya. He stumbled backward as words spewed out without thought. “How could you do this Cleve? Don’t you know these Elves killed Danvell Takary?”

  Unconcerned for his own safety, Cleve held out his hands as he came toward Jek. “Let me explain. I’m here to help you.”

  Thousands of ears were listening closely. Harold was about to give the order to shoot. Jek figured he should turn and run to avoid being caught in the middle. Peter might wait until he was out of the way, but not every archer would.

  Cleve looked ready to grab Jek’s arm, reaching out his hands as he drew closer. “You know me. I want to help.”

  “Jek,” Harold said. “If you don’t move, you’ll die with them.”

  Jek turned around to see all the archers were ready, some even drawing their strings halfway in anticipation.

  “Cleve, get back here!” a young woman shouted to him from the other side.

  “Light the torches!” Klaiya screamed over her shoulder. She spun back around and pointed at Harold with the fury of a scorned woman with nothing left to lose. “If you attack, we’ll burn the food.”

  Hooded figures holding blazing torches flanked the caravan, raising their arms threateningly.

  “Why would you want to help us if you serve Fatholl?” Jek yelled loud enough for his own men to hear, eager to take the lead from Harold. The officer didn’t care about Jek or Cleve’s lives.

  “Fatholl doesn’t want you to lose this war,” Cleve urged.

  “But you didn’t say he wants us to win.”

  Cleve’s mouth opened, but no words came. For a blink, his lips pressed together tightly. “Do you trust me?”

  “I thought I did.”

  “Then I’ll prove to you why you can trust me again.” Cleve gestured for Klaiya to follow him as he walked past Jek. He showed his empty hands by raising his arms. Klaiya made the same motion and took to his side, leaving Jek alone in the middle.

  “Get back, psychic.” Harold jabbed his sword at the air between them.

  “One psychic has no hope against so many men,” Klaiya said. “See how the rest of our army is staying back? This is so we can talk. We’re on the same side and don’t wish to fight. I haven’t spent years learning common tongue just to trick Humans before killing them.”

  “And what about this man?” Harold shifted his sword to Cleve.

  Cleve turned and motioned for Jek to join them. “Will you explain that I’m an ally to the Takary family? I would never support harming them, their people, or their allies.” His pleading tone caused some of Jek’s anger to drain from his body.

  “I suppose that’s true.”

  “You suppose?” Harold now looked as if he wanted to cut Jek before Klaiya.

  “I know it’s true!” Jek corrected himself. “We can trust them.”

  “They could just be using psyche to convince you!” someone yelled.

  “Psychics can’t be trusted,” another said.

  Suddenly, countless men were screaming aggressively. Cleve tried to shout to quiet them, but they didn’t listen.

  Then the screams changed to cries of agony and surprise.

  “Skunks!” men yelled from the back.

  “It’s a trap!” others shrieked.

  Arrows flew from the forest as enemies in black rushed forward, killing some men with Jek just as they turned around.

  “It’s no trap!” Cleve yelled back. “We’ll fight with you!” But his assurances seemed pointless, as Harold and two other men advanced on Cleve with their swords. “Stop! Let me fight your enemies!” Cleve yelled, backing away.

  Jek drew energy, figuring by the time he’d readied a fireball the decision about who to shoot would be made. But then he was done, and he still didn’t know. The Elves were storming forward. The skunks were coming from behind. Jek was in the middle with Cleve and Klaiya, both of them shouting instead of fighting.

  “If we were your enemies, you would be dead this instant!” Klaiya claimed.

  Sick of running, Cleve drew his Bastial steel sword.

  “Kill every last one of them!” Harold ordered.

  But more than half of Jek’s army still couldn’t engage the skunks with the growth of the forest and their own troops in the way.

  “There’s too many!” Jek’s allies were screaming. He had his wand aimed at Cleve, barely able to contain the energy of his stored fireball any longer. But as he watched Cleve continue to defend himself without fighting back, screaming
all the while that he was on their side, Jek was convinced.

  With the Bastial Energy ready to erupt, a fireball was the only spell Jek knew to cast that could release so much stored energy. But thousands of frogs were packed in front of his only targets. He shot the fireball into the trees, high and far so the fire that fragmented and fell would land on the skunks. His stomach turned when he saw several trees catch on fire. But he didn’t have the time to see if it would spread.

  “Harold, stop fighting the Elves and let them through!” Jek yelled. “Klaiya would’ve used psyche on us by now if they were enemies.”

  “This is true!” Klaiya’s desperation was as strong as the thick smell of blood in the air.

  The young woman who’d screamed for Cleve to come back was now rushing toward him with an Elf. “Let’s go,” she urged. “They won’t take our help.”

  Jek took a breath to gauge the progress of the battle. The frogs were losing. Peter and Calvon were somewhere among the chaos.

  “We will!” Jek yelled to Cleve. “Harold, I’ll shoot you myself if you don’t stop and let them through.”

  The officer grunted as he thrust his weapon at Cleve, but his wild attack was deflected hard, his sword flying out of his hand.

  “Pick it up, turn around, and fight with us!” Cleve yelled instead of sticking his sword into Harold’s chest.

  The others fighting with Harold stopped, giving one eye to their officer as they waited for a command.

  “Dammit. They must be telling the truth.” Begrudgingly, Harold bent and snatched his weapon from the dirt.

  “Kill those in black tunics!” Klaiya yelled. The Elves threw down their hoods as they charged by Jek, many armed only with daggers.

  “Stay here,” Jek heard Cleve order the young woman as she started to run with the Elves.

  She ignored him, the Elf at her side as they followed close behind.

  Jek took it upon himself to keep their new allies protected. In the midst of battle, he shouted that the Elves were fighting with the frogs. And when skunks started dropping from psyche, it became clear on its own, giving Jek the chance to focus.

  He shot an enemy in the back, then another in the shoulder. He had to keep his fireballs small. All around him, men fought each other with swords. As he pushed through with the Elves, the number of skunks increased.

  Jek watched many of his own take a fatal wound, usually while trying to fight off two enemies at once. He came upon Calvon and Peter fighting back to back, Peter with his dagger drawn, his bow nowhere in sight, Calvon fighting off two men until Jek shot one. Peter stabbed his dagger down upon the fallen enemy as Calvon ran his blade through the other.

  Jek saw Cleve barrel through, killing a skunk with each quick swing of his bright magma-colored sword. The Elves flooded the battlefield with him, and everywhere skunks were falling.

  Enemy officers gave the order to retreat. There were too many of his own troops in Jek’s way to chase after them. Harold shouted for those who did to stop.

  “Help the wounded, and let’s get the food back,” the officer said.

  He shouted more orders as Jek used Sartious Energy to smother the flames dancing on a few trees.

  Soon the frogs and the Elves were traveling north through the forest, clearing a path for the caravan.

  Chapter 21:

  JEK

  Jek’s heart calmed just before he found Cleve again. He was walking well ahead of Jek, with the young woman and the Elf who Jek had noticed earlier.

  Calvon must’ve noticed Jek staring at the back of Cleve’s head. “How do you know him?” Calvon pointed.

  “The Takary Queen and Prince were captured by men of Waywen when this war began. Cleve helped me retrieve them. He’s a skilled fighter.”

  “If he’s part of the Takary Army, what’s he doing with Elves?” Calvon spoke skeptically. Jek figured his trust was akin to how Jek regarded myths. Unless he saw firsthand a reason to believe them, he wouldn’t. But Jek knew Cleve well, and he figured Calvon would soon enough.

  “I don’t know about that, but I’m sure he has a good reason. He’s not actually part of the Takary Army, though. He came here from Ovira and left after the rescue mission. I didn’t even know he was back or why.” Jek would never mention his hope aloud—that Cleve had returned with a cure to Jek’s darkness. Still, his curiosity was eating him from the inside out. “Come with me, and we’ll talk to him.”

  “I’m going to try my luck with Klaiya,” Peter uttered softly. By his tone, it sounded like he was about to attempt to woo her.

  “Are you serious?” Calvon asked incredulously. “Her?”

  “Have you seen her?” Peter seemed as if he was refraining from shouting. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  A laugh burst out of Jek. “You’re actually interested in her?”

  “I’ve told Calvon numerous times…I like tall women.” His lips held a proud smile.

  “First, she’s not just tall, she’s a giant compared to you. I’d be surprised if you came up past her shoulders. Second, she’s not a woman; she’s an Elf. Third, she has to be at least thirty-five years old!”

  “So? I’m thirty.”

  Jek chuckled. He was still having trouble determining how serious Peter was. Klaiya as the source of his attraction was baffling. While the woman was voluptuous beneath her gray cloak, she was an Elf, a psychic and, like Calvon said, practically a giant in comparison to Peter, who was Jek’s size. She looked strong enough to lift him with one arm. From what Jek could remember of her panicked face, thirty-five seemed to be a good estimate. While there were no wrinkles in her skin, her thin brown eyes held maturity, and her lips spoke of experience and wisdom.

  “For all you know, she and the rest of them could be plotting to kill us. They might try taking over the fort from within,” Calvon said.

  “Well if anyone was going to, I’d rather it be her.” He patted Calvon’s back. “I’m off.” Peter ran ahead and soon disappeared from view.

  “Are you actually worried about them still?” Jek needed to know before he brought Calvon to meet with Cleve.

  “Somewhat. It’s clear they’ve come to help us, but I still don’t understand why.”

  “Let’s find out.”

  Calvon nodded as he walked with Jek.

  “Cleve,” Jek called when he was close. The big warrior turned. “I’m sorry about what almost happened.”

  Cleve extended his thick arm, and they shook hands. “Thank you for your help, Jek.”

  “This is Calvon.”

  Silently, Calvon shook his hand.

  “This is Reela,” Cleve said, gesturing toward her.

  When she wrapped her long fingers around Jek’s hand, he remembered why her name sounded so familiar.

  “This is the girl you talked about!” he blurted louder than he meant.

  Reela’s puffy lips turned in a wry smile. “What did he say about me?”

  Compelled to answer immediately, Jek didn’t even think about what he was saying. “You’re the reason he couldn’t be with Jessend Takary.”

  Reela dropped his hand, her mouth falling open as she gave Cleve a look. “That’s what you told people? The Takarys must hate me.”

  Cleve pushed out his hands. “I explained it far better than that.” His eyes sharpened as he glared at Jek.

  Jek scratched his head. “I don’t know why I said that.”

  Now Cleve was narrowing his eyes at Reela, chiding her. “Stop using psyche.”

  Calvon stepped away from them. “But her ears…she’s not an Elf.”

  “I suppose these pins aren’t necessary anymore.” Reela reached through her thick dark-honey hair and fiddled with something. She freed one ear, then the other. “I’m half Elven.”

  Her pale ears came to a point but were half the length of a normal Elven ear.

  “And this is my half-brother, Vithos,” she said.

  The Elf did look somewhat like her, showing the same bright smile
as he shook Jek’s hand, then Calvon’s. “My common tongue need work.”

  “So you speak Elvish?” Calvon asked.

  “No Elvish. I know Kreppen fluently.”

  Calvon showed Jek a perplexed look. Jek shrugged. He’d never heard of the language, either.

  “It’s a long story,” Reela said, her tone implying it wasn’t worth hearing at the moment.

  “So tell me instead,” Jek said, “what are you three doing here, and why are you with these Elves?”

  “First, let me give you something.” Cleve produced a small pouch from his pocket and offered it to Jek. “Make sure you don’t lose this.” Although his face and tone were serious, Reela had a coy smile.

  Jek untied the string, opened the pouch, and looked inside to find simple yellow seeds. He could feel tingles starting down his back as he thought of what they might be.

  “Those are yours now,” Cleve said.

  “What will grow from them?” he asked, barely managing to make his voice louder than a whisper as he felt tears coming to the back of his eyes.

  “Have you heard of the evesal before?” Cleve asked.

  “No.” Jek checked Calvon’s expression. His boyish face showed indifference as he shrugged.

  “It grows as a vine and eventually produces fruit,” Cleve explained. “It’s quite difficult to maintain, as once it sprouts, it requires Sartious Energy each day, more so than water.” Usually Cleve was concise, blunt even. But this was different. Behind his words was a secret, and behind his eyes was a smile his mouth didn’t yet show. Reela glowed with a wide grin, staring at Jek.

  He already knew what it meant. Tingles spread from his back throughout his body when Cleve clasped his shoulder.

  “It absorbs SE, Jek.”

  Jek couldn’t move as a flood of emotions suddenly overwhelmed him. Now he couldn’t think, only feel. The tears that had been building began to spill from his eyes. But he hid his face in his hands and tried to compose himself. He didn’t want to cry, not in front of everyone. So few understood what he’d suffered through every night for years. Years! Stricken by the same nightmare of dying gruesomely, losing sleep, bleeding, the constant dread of knowing it was coming…rarely had he even heard of someone enduring the same constant emotional and physical toll that surely had taken years off his life.