by T. A. White
To Shea, he said, “You’ll be going with the group heading up the cliffs. The pony shouldn’t slow you down as much there. She’s better with the hills and rocky terrain than our plains horses.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Shea said.
The rest of the night passed both too slowly and too fast. Sleep was impossible after the strategy session. Fallon spent the few hours before their departure with his men fine tuning their plans and talking with them.
He rotated from group to group, slapping backs and just being there for them. Chances were good that some might not come out of tomorrow alive, and he let them know they were appreciated, that they meant something.
They loved him for it. They loved him.
As they got into position the sun was beginning to rise above the twin mountain peaks in the east. Brilliant oranges, magentas and reds billowed across the horizon. It was the most brilliant sunrise Shea had ever seen. She fervently hoped it wasn’t her last.
“Lass, the Warlord gave orders for you to stay out of sight when we attack,” Caden said softly next to her.
Shea considered his words and found she had no problem with that. Unlike the rest of his men, she had little training when it came to weapons and what she did know was defense based. Mostly how to defend long enough to run away. Up until she had fallen in with the Trateri, she’d only drawn a blade against a beast.
Furthermore, she had no desire to use a weapon against another human being. She would if it was her life or theirs, but preferred it didn’t come to that.
“I understand,” she whispered back.
“That means you are not to leave this hiding spot,” he clarified.
“That’s fine.”
“No running out into the middle of battle, distracting my men.”
“Heard you the first time.”
“It would be dangerous.”
“Yup, I understand.”
“And no-“
“Caden! I understand. I’ll stay hidden. I won’t run out to get killed or distract others who could get killed.”
He watched her skeptically. “You’re awfully understanding. Completely different from your scout master’s description.”
She grinned. Ah, to be arguing with Eamon again. She missed driving him crazy with her latest stunt.
“Believe me. I have no intention of interfering in your mission. I know as little about swords as you do about beasts. I am quite aware and embrace my limitations.”
Their entire conversation took place nearly silently, as they kept their mouths close to each other’s ears.
A bird’s call came trilling through the forest. That was the first sign.
Caden’s body hardened next to hers as he used his hands to signal his men.
The archer’s must have come into view. Now all they had to do was wait until Fallon sprung the trap for the action to begin.
Shea settled down and rested her chin on the ground. It wouldn’t be too long now.
They waited.
And waited.
And waited an eternity more.
Or so it felt.
The second bird call came.
Rustling came from where the archers hid. Shea could see the barest hint of movement from her hiding place amid the underbrush.
Caden glanced to his left and with his right hand pointed forward twice before looking to his right and signaling those men. They crept silently from their hiding spots, moving swiftly and lethally to the hidden archers. Caden tapped Shea on the shoulder before following them.
A furor rose from below, the furious sound of men engaged in battle, some killing, some being killed. Fallon must have set off the trap and was even now engaging the enemy.
Caden’s men dispatched the archers with little to no fuss. He emerged into Shea’s vision and signaled ‘all clear’ then gave her the sign for ‘stay in place’.
Shea heaved a sigh of relief that one part was done. At least Fallon and the rest would have a fighting chance.
Caden disappeared back behind the trees, leaving her to her thoughts. And the growing boredom.
She raised her head as she heard a rhythmic pounding. Rising, she peeked out of her hiding place. A large, brown stallion thundered over the hill carrying someone. Hair flared behind the rider’s head, and the flash of a face was briefly highlighted before the rider was gone. Up and over the hill and racing at breakneck speed along the ridge.
Indra.
Shea didn’t have time to call for Caden. She was up and racing down the hill at an angle to Indra in an effort to intercept her. If the woman had any hope of escaping, she’d need to head over the hill and then pick her way back down to the valley floor. The ridge would grow too steep and ragged for travel by horseback.
Shea ignored the men’s shouts behind her. She raced over uneven ground, leaping down steep grades, trusting her legs to hold her. She sank deep into her mind, visiting a place she had made her home over the years. A place where the protests of her body, the aches and pains, disappeared and all that was left was the surge of her muscles, the air pumping in her lungs and the blood flowing through her veins. The serenity of this place and the single minded purpose of taking that next step made her feel like she was flying, like she would never stop. In that moment, it felt like she could run all the way to the Highlands without ever stopping.
Her feet found firm purchase without her even thinking about it and almost immediately she left Caden and his men behind, their voices fading as she widened the distance between them.
Shea caught glimpses of Indra and her mount racing through the trees. Their progress was much slower than hers as the horse struggled with the uneven surface.
Sea leapt through the air, using a fallen tree as a spring board to give her jump height and tackled Indra, their combined weight carrying them both to the ground for a bone jarring thud. They rolled down a sharp incline, tumbling end over end. Shea landed one punch and then a vicious kick to Indra’s stomach before the momentum carried them away from each other.
A tree caught Shea in the side, bringing her to an abrupt halt. Grimacing and touching her split lip gingerly, she found her feet and staggered towards the other woman.
Indra whirled on Shea, drawing her blade in the process. It was no longer then her forearm but looked more than sharp enough. The way she held it said she’d spent many an hour practicing.
“You?! I should have known,” Indra spat.
Shea watched Indra and her body language very carefully. She had her own blade out as they circled each other.
“You and your damn interference are the reason nothing has gone according to plan.”
Shea couldn’t argue with that and didn’t even try, concentrating instead on catching her breath. She’d need it for the upcoming fight.
Indra gave her a cruel smile. “It’s to my fortune that you stopped me. I can finally dispose of the hindrance. Once you’re dead, Fallon should be easy enough to kill.”
Shea snorted inwardly at that. She doubted it. The lady was mad if she thought so.
“Thank you for making it so easy to get rid of you,” Indra continued. “It’ll spare me the trouble of having to do so later.”
“Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much?” Shea asked.
Indra gave her another smile that didn’t touch her eyes and then feinted towards her. Shea leapt back and watched carefully.
Indra closed in, her blade moving almost too fast to follow. It was mostly luck that Shea parried at the last moment. The more experienced woman forced Shea back as she executed a series of complicated maneuvers, scoring a strike on Shea’s forearm and left leg.
Shea sidestepped and circled quickly in the opposite direction, feeling the sting on both her arm and leg and then the cold slide of blood. The one on her arm wasn’t bad, striking close to bone but still shallow and being no longer than a finger length. It was the wound on her leg that worried her more. That one had bitten deep and bled profusely from a slice longer t
han her hand.
She needed to finish this quickly, before blood loss weakened her.
“Why do this?” she asked.
Indra liked to talk. Shea hoped to indulge that need.
“Why? Why?” the woman’s voice rose higher on each word. “Why not? That man had everything I ever wanted, and he wouldn’t even look twice at me. When I proposed our union, he laughed at me. Me! He should have been licking my feet in gratitude for even offering to mate with one from such poor family lines.”
Anger suffused Indra’s face, turning her beauty into a thing of ugliness. She swung at Shea, her movement lacking the same grace and pinpoint accuracy of moments before.
Shea evaded and then reversed her swing, missing but only because the other woman stumbled, falling and then rolling out of the way.
“I though Fallon’s grandfather was the warlord before him?”
“But his mother was a common Lowland strumpet,” Indra spat. “He’s not even full Trateri. His father used the Trateri’s venom to bring her into the clan. The same ritual he used to make you one of us. I guess he and his father share similar tastes. All the more reason to get him out of the way so he can’t taint our bloodlines any further.”
Shea gave her a wicked grin. “Sounds to me like you have more in common with a strumpet. Trying to bargain your way into power with what’s between your legs and all.”
Her words had the effect she intended, driving Indra into a rage. She attacked without hesitation, hammering at Shea’s defense.
Shea waited for her moment. Numbness was spreading from the cuts on her legs and arms, making her slow. She blocked Indra’s attacks over and over again, her arm growing weary and heavy.
Anticipating victory, Indra fell into a repetitive pattern, her blows becoming predictable as she committed all of her strength behind them.
Shea smoothly stepped to the side of one strike, letting Indra’s forward momentum carry her as Shea twisted and drove the point of her blade into Indra’s shoulder.
Indra made a peculiar gasp as she bent and flailed with one arm, trying to knock Shea back.
Shea ducked and then hooked one leg behind Indra’s, grabbing the flailing arm and bringing it down over her waist to force the other woman off balance.
She felt it as the woman’s weight reached the point of no return, following up smoothly as Indra fell to the ground with Shea on top of her. She trapped Indra’s sword hand with her knee and then brought her blade up to her neck.
“Shea!”
“What was that you were saying?” Shea asked, panting slightly “Something about removing the hindrance. How about I help you with that?”
“Shea, that’s enough,” Caden said from right next to her. His sword was out and pointed at Indra.
“Do it,” Indra hissed, raising her head and trying to impale herself on Shea’s blade.
Shea smiled at the woman under her. It wasn’t a very nice smile, evidenced by Indra’s barely perceptible flinch. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? But, no, I think that would be too easy a punishment for you. I’m sure Fallon and Caden have some questions for you.”
“Coward.”
Shea paused in the act of climbing off Indra. She bent down, bringing her face close to the other woman’s.
“I don’t think so. I’m not the one fleeing from the consequences of my actions. That would be you. Seems those pure bloodlines you have don’t protect against common defects of character. Such a pity.”
With that, Shea stood and let Caden take over.
Two men moved past her and grabbed Indra, flipping her over and binding her arms behind her.
“Thought you agreed to stay hidden and not interfere,” Caden said, glaring at her.
Shea shrugged. “That was before I saw her fleeing. I saw a need and pursued it.”
He rubbed his head. “Fallon’s going to have my head.”
“I don’t see why. I did catch one of the conspirators.”
He gave her a look. One that said he was this close to relegating her to idiot territory. He grabbed her injured arm and jerked it forward. Shea couldn’t help the moan that escaped, fighting to stay on her feet as black spots ate at the edges of her vision.
He grabbed a length of cloth and pressed it against the wound to staunch the bleeding, forcing another moan out of her.
“This, this right here is why he wanted you to stay hidden,” he said, wrapping another strip of cloth around her arm to hold the compress in place. “He wants you safe, girl.”
“There’s no such thing as safe in the Broken Lands,” Shea said faintly. Boy, she was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. “I think I need to sit down.”
Caden cursed, the words out of his mouth heated enough to blister the air. A pair of firm hands guided Shea to a resting spot. It was a good thing too because black spots had stolen nearly all of her vision, and she wasn’t entirely sure she would have been able to find her seat on her own.
“I’ll let you tell him that,” Caden told her, continuing their previous conversation.
He jostled her as he pressed another wad of bandages against the wound on her thigh and then wrapped it tightly.
“Tell him what?”
“That there’s no such thing as safety when it comes to you. Then I’ll sit back and watch the explosion. It should be a good show.”
“I don’t know why you think that. It’s a fact. Had he left me back at the camp, his enemies might have been just as likely to eliminate me. And, in this situation, I did capture the woman.”
A dry bark escaped Caden. It took Shea a second to realize it was a laugh.
“Fallon lives to keep the people he cares about safe. He’s done all this to build the foundation of something that will guarantee the survival of the family he intends to have someday. You willingly jeopardizing that is not going to go over well.”
“Family?”
Caden sighed, his intense gaze meeting hers. “You. And whatever children the two of you create.”
Shea’s faintness returned.
“I thought I was just a passing fancy. That he’d eventually grow bored and move on,” she whispered.
Caden snorted. “For all your brains, you’re a bit slow.”
He stood and shook his head. Shea watched him go with an open mouth.
Family. Her. And Fallon.
She’d just begun to accept that they might have a chance at a small romance. That she might have some feelings for him. That she’d miss him if he was no longer in this world.
Last night. She’d accepted that fact last night.
She wasn’t ready for the rest of it. And definitely not the tiny people who would depend on her for everything. No. Just no.
“Bring the traitor. Fallon will want to see her,” Caden ordered. He pointed to a third man. “You. Help the idiot down to the valley. Things should be wrapping up there by now.”
The trip went quicker than she would have thought. In her pursuit, she had steered dangerously close to the battle and was more than half way there already.
Fallen had indeed wrapped things up and emerged victorious from the ambush. The lack of attack from above combined with the poor timing of the two ambush groups had worked in Fallon’s favor. His men had routed their attackers handily, sustaining no casualties on their side and only minor injuries.
The enemy had been decimated. Bodies clad in black were strewn between the trees, their life’s blood watering the forests’ roots. Only a handful had been left alive. Shea had little hope they were long for this world.
Amid this carnage was Fallon, standing apart from the rest.
“My lord, we’ve brought you a present,” Caden announced. “It seems you were right, and she couldn’t resist watching your defeat.”
Indra was shoved to her knees at Fallon’s feet, her hair grabbed and head dragged back.
Fallon’s eyes skipped over Indra to land on Shea’s blood stained figure. He stiffened. Rage gripped his face, flooding the air around hi
m until the nearest people took a step away. Indra whimpered.
Even Shea, all the way across the clearing, fought to keep from retreating. It was scary. He was scary. His anger, so intense that it felt like the roar of a wildfire, singed her skin even at this distance. It was like being stared at by a great, wild beast held in check by only a thought.
His eyes shot to Caden. “I thought I told you to keep her hidden and safe.”
Caden glared dourly at Shea. “She had other thoughts. She chased the woman down before I could stop her.”
Fallon’s eyes said they would discussing this later. Shea’s responded that there was nothing up for discussion.
He finally looked down at the woman at his feet. The rage drained from him, leaving a dispassionate disinterest in its place.
In a way, that unsettled Shea more than the anger. You could accomplish some truly heinous things once emotion has been tucked away.
Anger dies, eventually, if you sate it with enough blood. Hate fades. Grief dwindles. There are reasons behind emotion. Such is not the case with true detachment.
“Where is her blade?”
Caden held out the blade Indra had used during her fight with Shea. Fallon took it, examining the dried red still staining it.
Shea’s blood. She swallowed hard, not liking seeing evidence of it outside her body, where it did not belong.
She wanted, no, needed, to sit down. Shea stiffened her legs. There would be no showing weakness right now. Not with the air so thick with tension and anger she nearly choked on it.
It was the response of a wild animal, trying to avoid the attention of a bigger predator.
Fallon touched the blade gently. His arm flashed out carving a path down Indra’s arm and leg before she could react.
For one long moment, there was silence as she stared up at him disbelieving. Then, a small sound escaped. A longer wail followed as Indra fought against her two captors, trying to stand, to get away.
The wounds Fallon had made were in the exact same spots as Shea’s.
“Who are your co-conspirators?” Caden asked.
“No one,” she cried.
Nobody moved as Fallon drew the blade down the opposite arm.
“You are not smart enough or bold enough to have planned all of these assassination attempts. Tell us who helped you.” Caden crouched beside her. “Tell us quick, and we’ll give you a clean death.”
