by Donna Grant
While their host had taken Braith’s stillness as one of defeat, she saw the way Braith’s knuckles whitened from his tight grip. She noticed the hunching of his shoulders. She glimpsed the vein on the side of his neck that bulged from anger.
And she knew that battle was coming.
She could taste it in the air, feel it in the tension that filled the tower. Though she was trained for such clashes, this was the first time her skills would be pitted against men. She wasn’t averse to stopping anyone trying to kill her, but it took a little adjustment since she was used to battling witches.
The knights were ill prepared for her. At first, they weren’t sure what to do, but that didn’t last long. Still, they seemed hesitant to actually hurt her, which gave her a major advantage that she eagerly and willingly took.
After cutting down two men, the knights changed their tactics and went after her full force. Their training hindered them. Her quick movements confused them.
She zigzagged in and around them so that some of their swings landed on the man next to them instead of her. Despite their multiple clashes with her sword, her arm withstood their onslaught thanks to years of instruction from Radnar.
Leoma quickly took care of the men in the tower and went after Roger. She vaulted over the last of the stairs leading down to the great hall to land in front of him. In one glance, she took in the rows of tables and benches as well as the four exits and two sets of stairs.
Roger’s smile was more of a leering sneer. “I should’ve known Braith lied when he said you were dressed like a warrior to hide that you’re a woman. He was protecting you.”
Leoma shook her head. “He was shielding you.”
“I don’t need protecting,” he stated and stepped to the side.
He was entirely too confident for her liking. There was something about his attitude and his lack of a weapon that made her take note. They circled each other, their gazes locked.
“Pick up a weapon,” she demanded.
He snorted contemptuously. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“I never said that you were. I told you to pick up a weapon. Unless you don’t want to fight me.”
“Sweetheart, if I fought you, there would be nothing left for the Coven. And they’re very keen on getting you.”
She bristled at his tone and the mocking endearment. “I know one thing for a fact. You’re going to die today. Whether I kill you, or Braith does, your life ends. And there’s nothing the Coven can do to stop it.”
“You obviously know very little about them,” he replied with a grin.
Leoma lifted her sword before her. “And you know so very little about me.”
She lunged at him, but it wasn’t his body her blade connected with, but that of another knight. Roger’s cackle made her seethe, but she kept her rage under control. For the moment.
Four men surrounded her. She eyed them, noting they were much bigger than any of the other knights she had found at the castle. Their swords were twice the length of hers and much weightier.
She would have to move fast because if one of them connected with her, she would have a tough time recovering. Standing still, she moved her head to look at each man.
“Put your sword down,” Roger called from behind the biggest of the knights. “If you keep this up, I cannot promise your life.”
Leoma smiled. “Sure you can. The Coven wants me, and that means you have to deliver me alive. It also means that you’ve told your men not to kill me.”
“They can still hurt you.”
She leaned to the side to avoid a punch to her head. Leoma dropped down onto one foot, extending her other leg and turning, sweeping her attacker’s legs out from under him.
As soon as he landed on his back, she straightened and somersaulted over him, thrusting her sword into his heart before landing on her feet.
Her gaze locked with Roger to find a woman beside him. Leoma had never seen her before, but she put the blonde’s face to memory as the woman cupped her hands before her and blew. Sparks flew, flickering in the air before thickening into a black smoke with fire sparking on the edges.
The smoke went over Leoma, gathering like clouds. She hoped the witch would get in the fray because Leoma’s sword yearned to taste witch blood again.
Apprehension slithered its cold fingers around her when the witch stood with Roger to watch. There was a play going on here, and Leoma didn’t have time to figure it out as she prepared to fight the three men walking toward her.
No longer could she hear Braith battling above her, and with the smoke, she couldn’t see him either. That’s when she knew it had been a mistake to leave him. They should have remained together.
But she had to let her anger of Roger get to her. That might very well cause her death. Or worse, allow the Coven to capture Braith.
“I think she finally sees the big picture,” Roger said to the witch.
The woman’s smile confirmed Leoma’s suspicions.
Braith ignored the cut on his right thigh and the throbbing of his left arm. He had his back to the balcony and fought man after man. They kept coming, and he kept slashing his sword.
He kicked one in the balls and shoved another over the balcony to the great hall below. A sword tip sliced through the shoulder of his jerkin. He bellowed his rage and thrust his sword upward into the gut of a knight.
Blood. So much blood. He was soaked in it, drowning in it. But he didn’t let it take him. Not this time. Leoma needed him, and he had need of her. The thought of her was what kept him from sinking beneath the tide of red that he saw everywhere.
He blinked through the blood that dripped down his face to look at the five remaining men. His breathing was loud, even to his own ears. The men backed away slowly before they turned and ran.
Braith took a moment to close his eyes. Then he snapped them open and whirled around to look below where he last saw Leoma.
The four dead men made him smile until he saw the big knight fighting. He had Leoma retreating toward another set of stairs that led upward.
Braith stepped over the men at his feet and rushed to help her.
Leoma swallowed and gripped her sword with both hands. This was the fight of her life. Not only would she need to keep her eyes on the three hulking knights, but also the witch.
She debated whether to call out to Braith, but she didn’t want Roger to know how worried she was about being separated from him. So she kept quiet and hoped that somehow Braith could see the smoke between them.
One thing she never liked was being on the defensive. The tides of fate could change in a heartbeat, but she wasn’t going to wait for such luck. She was going to make her own.
Leoma set her sights on the biggest of the knights, the one who stood directly in front of her. The one on her left favored one of his knees. It was barely discernable, but it was a weakness she planned to exploit. The man on her right didn’t take her seriously, and that’s what would get him killed.
She took a deep breath and calmed her racing heart as the men kept advancing on her. Then she moved to her left, slamming her foot into the knight’s injured knee.
He went down with a scream. She palmed his dagger and slit his throat before spinning and facing the man on the right. She leaned back to miss the swipe of his sword at her head.
While Roger shouted at the knight, she straightened and slipped the blade between his ribs, right into his heart. She began to turn when something knocked into her from her back left side. Pain exploded near her kidney. Before she knew it, her feet were swept out from under her. She went down hard on the stones, knocking the breath from her.
Leoma immediately rolled away and came up on her feet as air finally filled her lungs. The knight smiled as he came at her.
Once he was within distance, she jumped on the bench and then the table. She ran a few steps and vaulted into the air, sending her legs over her head to land on his back.
She thrust her sword into his neck where it met his shou
lder and twisted. Blood flowed in thick rivulets from the wound as he staggered.
Leoma yanked her blade free and pushed off him to flip backward. She landed on her feet as he crashed into the table, unmoving. Her head swiveled to Roger and the witch.
She wasn’t surprised when the woman stepped forward. In fact, she was quite happy about it. With the witch dead, the smoke would vanish, and she could then find Braith.
“How’s Brigitta?” Leoma asked the witch. “That’s right. She’s dead. I killed her.”
The witch’s steps faltered slightly. “You lie.”
Leoma laughed. “They didn’t tell you who I was, did they? The Coven sent you inside to fight me without informing you that I’m a Hunter.”
“I’ve faced your kind before,” the witch stated.
It was the slight shaking of her hands that told Leoma the woman was lying. Not that she minded. Leoma liked the idea that she and the other Hunters instilled fear in the witches. It was just a taste of what the Coven dished out to others.
“You won’t live to tell about your encounter with me,” Leoma declared.
The witch cupped her hands again and took a breath. Leoma ran toward her, dropping down to slide along the floor. She lifted her sword as she neared the witch and impaled her in the stomach before the woman could release her breath.
Leoma stood and pulled out her sword. Her eyes cut to Roger as the witch dropped to her knees, wailing. Within minutes, she was on her back and beginning to burn from the inside out.
Blood dripped from the end of Leoma’s blade. She strode to Roger and pinned him against the wall with the tip of her blade to his throat.
“You won’t kill an unarmed man,” he said as he stretched his neck to keep away from her sword.
“Are you so sure about that?”
His lips trembled, and his hazel eyes clouded with fear. She couldn’t see the legendary knight that Braith had spoken so highly of. All she saw was a traitorous coward.
But he was right. She couldn’t kill an unarmed man.
She lowered her weapon and turned away to find Braith. He could decide what to do with his friend. Except she didn’t get three steps away before she heard the whistle of a blade.
Leoma turned away, but not quickly enough. The dagger sank into her left shoulder. She looked at the protruding hilt and then at Roger.
Without hesitation, she pulled the blade from her shoulder and threw it at him, watching it sink into his eye. Roger screamed in pain before he began to twitch, and then he fell dead.
Leoma put a hand on her wound to slow the bleeding and turned on her heel to find Braith, only to be met by silence throughout the castle.
Panic and dread churned within her gut. She raced up the stairs to find the numerous bodies. But no sign of Braith. Leoma kept her sword at the ready as she ran through the castle, searching for Braith.
Her exploration led her to the master chamber. She shoved aside the tapestry to find the door to the passageway ajar. The fluttering of wings drew her gaze to the open window.
She watched the piercing eyes of a falcon land on her before it flew away as she hesitantly made her way to the window. Her eyes locked on the older couple that stood outside the castle gates while another witch led Braith to them.
Leoma knew Braith wouldn’t leave her. She was too far away to even call out to him. But she could follow.
Chapter 22
Something was wrong. Braith kept shaking his head, but he couldn’t make the fog within go away.
“Leoma,” he called, seeking her hand.
He knew magic was being used on him, but he didn’t know how to combat it. Or even what it was doing exactly.
Her arm came around him. “Everything is all right. You’re going to be fine.”
Braith stared into her face. There was something off, but again, he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. She looked the same, spoke the same. It wasn’t until he stared into her brown eyes that he realized what was off.
She no longer looked at him as if she cared, as if they had shared their bodies—and their hearts. Her gaze was...dead.
He pulled away from her and got to his feet. His limbs didn’t move as if he had complete control. He felt disconnected from his body, his mind floating as if upon a mountain of mist, shrouded and suppressed.
Now that he was beginning to grasp the truth, the fog surrounding him fell away little by little.
“Braith?”
He didn’t want to look at Leoma because he knew in his heart that it wasn’t really her. The witches had tricked him.
Did he play along with them? Did he fight?
If they could alter his mind in such a way, how could he fight them? He had no weapons with which to either defend himself or hurt them. And it infuriated him.
He held onto that rage and let it build inside him to help him continue acting the fool. It was a new role for him, but it was the only thing he could do until he broke free of whatever spell they used. Then he would find a way to get the upper hand.
Somehow. Someway.
He wasn’t going to be a willing pawn for the Coven. Their guard would be down as long as he played along with the scenario they created. That gave him the advantage, and that was all he needed to win the war.
So many times, his opponents believed he was beaten. They grew cocky instead of being smart and getting the win. The Coven was the same, and it would be their downfall.
All the while, he wondered where Leoma was. Did the Coven have her? Was she still at the castle? Or was she...dead?
Nay. He refused to believe that her life had been taken. She was too smart, too well trained to allow Roger or even the Coven to kill her. But there were very good odds that the witches had her.
He would need to be vigilant and gather all the information he could. It’s what Leoma would do in his place. He would find out what the Coven wanted him for. He would get free. He would find Leoma.
And they would make it to the abbey. Together.
“Braith?”
He jerked away from the woman who was supposed to be Leoma. “My head aches.”
“Sit,” she urged. “Rest. We survived a betrayal by your friend.”
“And killed dozens of men.”
The woman shrugged as she came to stand before him. Leoma’s face distorted as he stared. “It’s kill or be killed in those situations.”
He lowered himself back to the ground when she sat and tugged on his arm. Braith didn’t want to be anywhere near the witch when he kept seeing Leoma’s face. He stared into the fire, wondering how many more witches were around him. No doubt they were watching him carefully.
They had no idea that he and Leoma were lovers, and he was going to keep it that way.
“Where are we headed now?” he asked.
She turned her head to him, her beautiful dark locks shifting to gray. “I know of a place where we can rest for a few days. The witches won’t be able to venture within.”
“Why didn’t we go there before?”
Her gaze stared at him a long moment. “It’s a secret the Hunters don’t share with others. I was hoping we wouldn’t have need to go there, but the Coven isn’t letting up.”
“Have you figured out what they want with me?” he pressed.
The longer Braith stared at the woman, the more the vision of Leoma fell away to reveal that of an older woman with a long face and a sour expression.
“It doesn’t matter,” the woman said. “We need to make sure you don’t fall into their hands.”
“Aye,” he agreed, trying not to pull away when she handed him the waterskin.
Her gaze watched him closely. “Do you wish to wash the blood away?”
He lowered the waterskin and looked down at his hands. How could he have forgotten the blood? As much as he wanted to leave that life behind, he seemed to constantly be pulled back into battle. Worse was the fact that he was good at it.
Braith lowered the waterskin to the ground and rose to walk to th
e river. With every step, he realized that he couldn’t escape his past, couldn’t shake off the blood and death that clung to him like a heavy mantle.
He was death.
Leoma squatted down to look at the tracks on the ground after following the Coven for hours. Behind her, Braith’s horse neighed softly. She looked back at the animal.
“I know. We’re going to get him back,” she promised.
The stallion snorted and stared at her with its large, soulful eyes. She rose and walked to the horse to stroke its neck. The animal had tried to follow Braith when he left. Thankfully, the mount stopped for her.
Leoma gazed into the distance. She wanted nothing more than to get closer to the witches, but she suspected the older woman leading them was a councilmember.
While Leoma had a sword spelled to kill witches, getting close to the elder was going to be an issue. No witch became a councilmember unless they had the magic to back it. Which meant, the woman would be a formidable foe.
One Leoma wasn’t so keen to go up against by herself.
“Come,” she said to the stallion as she took the reins and led him to a copse of trees that would shield them.
There would be no fire for her this night. She didn’t bother to tie the stallion. The horse only wanted to find his owner, and he seemed to understand that Leoma was trying to do just that. She gave the animal a scratch behind his ears, grateful that the stable lad had left the bridle on.
Leoma grabbed some of the food they had gotten at the village and ate it while trying not to move her wounded shoulder. She’d tied a bandage around the injury to stop the bleeding, but it was seriously going to hinder her in any upcoming battles.
She lowered herself to lean against a tree and unsheathed her sword. She attempted to close her eyes, but she kept seeing Braith running straight toward the Coven.
With a sigh, Leoma opened her eyes and looked into the distance, but she didn’t see the trees or plants. Her thoughts turned inward as she thought of waking up to feel Braith’s tongue on her, sending waves of unimaginable pleasure through her.
