He clamped his lips together as he rode his emotions.
Sherise released her hold on his arm to rustle inside the satchel that hardly ever left her person. ‘Here it is.’ She held aloft a clutch of tikka feathers in her hand.
Maaka snorted. ‘What would you have me do? Tickle my enemies to death?’
She chewed her lower lip for a moment at the cutting softness of his voice, recognising it as the warning signal of a predator about to annihilate its prey.
‘Please, Maaka, listen to me. These feathers are made of metal. I believe they can be woven together to make, at the very least, a half-body plate. If you can locate me sufficient feathers I will make your men armour.’
‘By yourself?’ Disbelief laced his voice. ‘There is no time for this nonsense.’
Sherise waved her hand in the air. The light reflected off the feathers in her hand and the silent warriors stared as if mesmerised. The flare was nothing in comparison to the glare in Maaka’s eyes.
But his dismissive tone aroused her own anger. ‘I speak no nonsense. I am descended from a long line of Darkon warriors and the sister of a king. I have been born and bred to protect others and stand by my mate’s side. Would you deny me my heritage?’ Her nostrils flared and she lifted her chin.
‘It is not that I have no faith in your courage, but I need you to be safe,’ he admitted.
Her voice softened. ‘Do you not see me as your equal?’
‘You are right. Fear for your wellbeing has clouded my judgement.’ His knuckles brushed down the side of her face. ‘Never doubt my respect for you, Sherise.’
‘Then there will be no more arguments. I will stand by your side. As to my idea, pray listen. I have studied the weaving and melding of metal since I was young. This skill can be taught, but I will need help. I have seen the Freeber women weaving cloth. It should be easy enough to teach them. We will need a fire as hot as possible, rods of the metal you use to make your swords and time.’
And time was something the captives of the Half-dead did not have. Their eyes met and understanding flowed between them. His jaw relaxed a centon, the square of his shoulders rounded as she sensed his tension ebbed.
‘We can work through the night,’ Sherise added.
Maaka addressed his men. ‘Ronen, take a team of men and source every tikka feather you can find. Bring them to the communal hall. We will all work together until the task is complete. Junta, advise Kondo, I have need of his counsel. The rest of you, see to the metal and fire.’
His men dispersed in all directions, leaving Sherise alone with him.
He brought her fingers to his lips and kissed each fingertip. A tingle like electric sparks flickered down her fingers and along her arm.
‘I should not be surprised, my sweet Sherise, at the extent of your skills and yet I find that I am.’ He drew her to her feet and wrapped his arm about her waist. They walked from the cavern and down the long tunnel. ‘No longer do you berate me about warmongering and now you say you will take up arms and fight with me. What has caused this change of heart?’
‘Perhaps I have decided there are some things worth fighting for.’
‘You evade me, still.’
Sherise bit her lip at the sternness in his voice. Did he not trust her? But trust worked both ways. ‘I am not the only one who chooses to conceal matters.’
The muscles in the arm he had looped about her tensed. ‘Explain.’
‘Very well, Maaka.’ She took a deep breath, but the words that poured from her mouth were not the careful sentences she had rehearsed in her mind all morning. ‘I have been told the reasons you chose me as your mate is a desire to fulfil some prophesy and, at the same time, gain access to my people’s knowledge and technology. Is this true?’
Maaka remained silent for a few paces before clearing his throat and saying, ‘Yes, but ’tis not the entire truth. As leader of my clan, it is my duty to ensure my people survive. Not only this generation, but also the ones to come. Our alliance with the Freebers was negotiated on the terms of merging our people and bartering our different skills for mutual advantage. A united force is much stronger than two divided races. The widening of our gene pool will diminish and, in time, eradicate the flaws in our nature.’
‘Flaws?’ Sherise looked him over from head to toe. She could see no flaws. He was a magnificent example of a warrior. Though admittedly, an annoying one. A smirk spread over his face.
‘’Tis good you can perceive no flaws in me,’ he said in a humble tone which failed to deceive her.
She said drily, ‘Your inflated opinion of yourself is a major flaw.’
He chuckled.
They emerged from the tunnel and he stepped forward to lead the way down the steep rock staircase. She gripped his belt, keeping her eyes on the steps and refrained from staring into the well of the cavern. He stopped at the bottom. ‘Everyone has their weaknesses.’
She heard it, a slight deepening of his voice hinting at a darker inflection behind his smooth evasive response. What is he hiding that is so difficult to speak of? Perhaps it was as simple as a lack of trust. Or perhaps a weakness his enemies would take advantage of and, if known, win over his people? Or was it something worse? Either way, he could not or would not tell her.
‘Now you are the one keeping secrets.’
Maaka huffed out an irritated breath. ‘I knew from the very first moment I saw you that you would be my mate.’
‘In the hospital or when I used my personal compu?’
‘Both.’
‘So upon realising we were not of your world you decided on the strategy of mingling our races with yours and the Freebers. Then you do not see me; not the real, Sherise.’ She walked away.
***
Maaka scraped a hand over the top of his head and massaged the back of his neck where tension had tightened his muscles until they cramped.
By Leon’s teeth, what just happened? Did I really agree to let my mate join the battle?
True, many a Lycanean female fought beside her mate and indeed were at this moment preparing for battle. Some women were even as strong and skilled as the men. But the idea of his sweet Sherise facing the horrors of the Half-dead struck terror into his heart. But he could not deny they needed every soldier capable of wielding a weapon if they were to achieve victory. He would have to place his trust in her armour and his body to keep her safe.
And there had been a shadowed look in her dark eyes that disturbed him. He had a sneaky feeling this entire encounter with his mate had ended badly as he stared after her departing figure, wondering whether he should call her back.
Given the amount of work yet to be completed before they embarked on the first stage of their attack, perhaps it would be wise to shelve their personal issues and concentrate on the matter at hand. Still, a true Lycanean never left his mate in need. The pain and confusion she harboured clouded his judgement, so great was his desire to offer her comfort. But if he did so, he would be honour bound to tell her everything.
He rolled his shoulders. Would she recoil from him? When she learned the Lycaneans could be turned and become as one like the Half-dead? When she realised, under their skins, they could well be brothers?
Bred in the birth chambers within the Fortress, both races shared a similar genetic structure. They had been mutated into two separate peoples, forever at war, forever seeking to destroy what one could become and what the other should have been.
Training in the use of the Star People’s weaponry would occupy the remainder of the day. Should time permit, then he would seek out Sherise and share this secret that he abhorred.
And feared.
Chapter 24
Night had fallen in the city and Bree was ready to put the Commander’s plan into action. Her nerves tightly wound, she’d been unable to eat the remainder of the day, and now nausea added to her discomfort.
Taking a deep breath, she nodded to Dyrke and walked out the front door of his house and down the four steps. The two
peacekeepers standing sentry spun around but made no move to intercept her.
She kept walking, counting down the seconds in her head. Heart pounding, she kept her head up like she had every right to be walking about the streets one hour before curfew. She heard the sound of running feet and shot a glance over her shoulder. One of the sentries was heading in the opposite direction. She assumed he was off to report on her and obtain fresh orders. The other guy had stepped out onto the road and watched her progress.
Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty.
She stopped, turned around and broke into a run, back towards the guard. That’s it. I’ve really got his attention now.
A shadow slipped out the door and down the steps. The guard had his hand on the butt of his weapon, as if uncertain whether or not to fire on her.
Dyrke raised his hand and brought a frying pan crashing onto the guard’s head. The guy grunted and folded to the ground.
Bree sprinted the last couple of metres and stopped, looking down at the fallen man. ‘He’s bleeding. You must have given him quite a wallop.’
‘The other will return soon. But I calculate we have a good half an hour before they begin searching for us.’ Dyrke stared along the street. ‘The little girl is back.’
‘I hope she doesn’t raise the alarm. Okay. I’m off for the landing area.’
‘I wish you safe journey. In the meantime, I will locate the building where my men are being held.’ Dyrke hesitated. ‘If you are unable to send a signal and no shuttle has been left behind, you will be alone and unprotected.’
‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about me. Kondo would never leave us without a means of escape from this place.’ Bree pushed his arm. ‘Go. We’ve both got work to do.’
And without a backward glance, Bree left him behind.
***
Two hours before dawn, Sherise clipped the last piece of her nano armour into place. She had to give Kondo credit for taking the initiative to steal not only weapons from the Quinnie but also several sets of Darkon armour. It would come in handy with the battle ahead.
Taking a deep breath, she wriggled her fingers into tight fitting gloves. With her fingernails clipped short and wiped clear of crimson paint, her transformation into a Darkon warrior was now complete. She spread her legs apart to balance her weight and activated the compu, metal bands surrounding both her arms from her wrists to her elbows. A current sizzled and burned over her skin from the tips of her fingers and toes to the end of her braided hair.
By Cercis’s cloak, why is the melding always painful?
Surely by now their scientists could have invented a less painful way of connecting the nano technology with the wearer? She pulled a face when she remembered she had yet to secure her helmet. The connection with the brain was always the hardest part.
The burning felt like live currents drilling into her skull and lasted several seconds until the bonding was complete.
Still, the protection afforded by the armour was worth the momentary discomfort.
She looked up as Maaka entered the cave.
The man that stood before her was all warrior. Clad only in trousers, with his impressive chest protected by a breastplate of tikka feathers, Maaka was a formidable sight; one that took her breath away. From his wide leather belt hung his sword, axe and a plitza gun. A long narrow sheath which contained his bone-handled knives was strapped round the top of each of his thighs.
‘You are resolved on this?’
‘Yes.’ Sherise crossed to his side, laid an armoured hand on his arm and looked up into his face. ‘Is all ready?’
‘Yes. Making armour from the tikka feathers was an excellent idea. Thank you.’
‘It won’t stop uron blast nor nix strikes, but I believe the metal will ward off any plitza guns.’
‘We have tested it against sword and spear and it deflects both these weapons. This will give us an advantage over our enemy.’
Sherise stroked her hand over the metallic feathers welded into a plate that covered Maaka’s torso and emphasised his wide shoulders, fighting the sick feeling in her stomach. Soon, the armour would be tested in a real life situation. She remembered her vision and felt as if her heart was full of roid stones, heavy and cold.
Maaka sucked in a deep breath and she saw the planes of his face sharpen. ‘Stay by my side at all times, Sherise.’
The lustre of his eyes was dulled by shadows and Sherise knew it came from whatever he kept hidden from her. She had hoped to have the time to speak with him, to lie once more within his arms, but with the fate of others hovering close by like restless spirits it was selfish to delay any longer. Plus, Maaka had deemed it sound strategy to set a trap now, when his enemy believed the Freebers were still recovering from the last attack and had insufficient manpower to offer any kind of threat.
‘I have prayed to the goddess Cercis to keep you safe from harm,’ she said. Beneath her armour and skin suit, even her heart trembled.
He shrugged. ‘If it is my fate to die, then so be it.’ He traced the outline of her face and mouth. ‘But I have no intention of falling this day. Our sons will need their father.’
‘You are forgetting our daughters.’ Sherise smiled.
‘Who will be as fierce and brave as their mother.’ He swooped down and kissed her. The tender way his lips moved over hers made her fling her arms around his neck and cling, never wanting to let him go. She drew deep of the taste of his mouth, committing it to memory. His musky scent was rich in her lungs and even through the barriers of their armour she could feel the strength of his hard body. Words of pleading, of remonstration, of desperation churned in her throat, but she would not utter them. She would not burden him with her fear. Let him keep his mind clear and focused on what lay before him.
And she would watch his back.
When he raised his head, she stepped out of his embrace, and kept her eyes steady as she looked at him.
He passed both hands over his head then dropped them to his sides. ‘It is time.’ The gravity in his face threatened her composure, but she nodded and walked off to check, for the last time, the contents of her satchel.
Good. All accounted for.
She slung the straps over her shoulder and fastened them to her chest. She straightened the bed of dark furs, casting one last look around the cave which held such special memories. Her gaze lingered on the crystal depths of the pool and she turned to smile at her mate, allowing her faith and trust to flow from her heart to his. ‘I am ready, Maaka.’
‘You will obey my every command,’ he said, not for the first time.
‘Of course.’ Within reason. She placed her hand in his outstretched one, and his firm grip enclosed hers.
In silence they walked along the many passages and stairs until they emerged into the cavern. Lines of armed soldiers stood waiting, tense and battle ready, before the shuttles. Sherise’s chest swelled as she stared at them; Lycaneans, Freebers and Relics, both men and women, their faces grim like effigies carved out of stone. Kondo stood, arms folded and head high, in front of a stack of small metal boxes which she recognised as uron charges.
The Freeber leader, Liu, hurried forward and grasped their joined hands in both of his.
‘We will pray for a speedy end to the conflict and a safe return for all.’ Liu’s gentle eyes glistened with moisture.
‘Remember to keep the perimeter secure, Liu. I want sentries manning all points of entrance every minute of the day and night,’ said Maaka.
The smaller man nodded and released their hands.
Maaka raised a clenched fist into the air, swept his gaze over the lines of men as they imitated him. A mighty roar filled the cave. While the cheering continued, Sherise followed Maaka onto the first shuttle and into the cockpit.
A few minutes later, the shuttle vibrated beneath her feet as the power source fired up. The pilot coded in the take-off sequence and the shuttle shot across the plateau and lifted into the sky. Sherise closed her eyes and willed herself t
o relax as the forces of gravity pinned her to her seat. In a few hours’ time, she’d learn what fate awaited them on the plains before the Fallen City.
***
Despite the temperature-controlled warmth provided by the nano suit, a chill pervaded Sherise’s body and stiffened the tiny hairs on her arms. She went over the battle plan.
A group of Lycaneans dressed as Freebers were to toil in the field where the gammas grew, with three others acting as guards. The remainder of the army would lie in wait, hidden behind a low ridge eight hundred metres away.
There, they would wait until their enemy attacked and they would make their move. A simple three-pronged attack, with Maaka taking the strike up the centre, Junta in charge of the west side and Kondo attacking from the east. Two shuttles would be used to lay down covering fire; the remaining one, with the precious medie tubes, would be sent back to the Freebers’ settlement.
No need to fight the Half-dead on their own turf, Maaka had assured her. The creatures would throw caution to the winds at an opportunity to slaughter more of their enemy and would be complacent after their last success. A fight on the open ground would give the Lycaneans and their allies the advantage.
She peered over the rise in the land. The Lycaneans pretending to be Freebers dug in the dirt and walked back and forth, adding to a small pile of orange vegetables. The guards patrolled in a narrow perimeter. The trap was set.
No breeze stirred the knee-high grass or gave any relief from the early heat of the day. In the east, green-grey clouds formed and rolled in over the sky. A prickle of sweat tickled her scalp. She wished she could remove her helmet and lift her heavy braid from the back of her neck. But there was no time, for on the horizon a heaving, dark mass surged towards them.
It is like my vision.
The shrieking of the Half-dead and the scratching of their clawed feet as they raced across the cracked, hard earth made her shudder and played havoc with her shaky nerves. She knew she had told Maaka she was no stranger to battle. That was true enough. She had fought off draptiles, space pirates and bounty hunters. But this was the first time she would be involved in a battle against an army.
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