The Treason Blade (Battle for Alsaar Book 1)

by Keech, Jenny Rebecca

  They had to be almost upon them, Ishar realized. She gripped the reins tight and waited. The next moment that Fenric’s mare fought him and the bit, Ishar kicked her gelding hard. The animal responded with a frightened lunge forward. Fenric’s mare had reared and was coming down when the gelding slammed into her, throwing the mare off balance. Ishar heard Fenric utter a curse but refused to wait and see what happened. She maneuvered the horse upward on the trail and listened for the enemy she knew was lying in wait for her.

  She noted in relief that the trail widened as she moved ahead and jutted in several directions. Ishar heard movement behind her and Fenric’s yell and knew he was close on her heels. She spurred the horse faster. As she came to a fork, noise to her right made her keep straight. Ishar continued on and when another rider tried to cut her off, she veered left and followed a narrow path farther upward. She tried not to wonder about her chances; they appeared too slim. She just continued along the trail.

  Her gelding rapidly became winded, the ride of yesterday and today proving too much. He was not a warrior’s mount, used to the steady movement and rapid turns from right to left and back again that were required of a fighter’s horse. His sides heaved and were covered in froth as was his mouth and front. Still, the gelding obeyed her commands and moved at a dangerous run among the rocks. The trail narrowed and the sides steepened. Ishar looked ahead and glimpsed an open spot between the walls of rock. She urged the horse onward and out through the opening. Rocky ground scattered with smatters of green greeted her, as did a broad open ocean and ledge. Ishar looked around for desperately for another trail to take but walls of rock were all she saw. She turned back toward the opening, but it was too late. Riders quickly approached down the narrow shoot she had chosen unwisely to follow. Ishar dismounted and led the horse to the edge. She glanced over and swallowed. The water loomed large and dark and far below.

  Ishar turned back. She kept the gelding’s body between her and the riders that now emptied onto the ledge. All the men drew back their hoods. She saw only cold indifference upon their faces. Fenric, she noted grimly, was one of them. None of these Tourna wore the intricate tattoo markings upon their face that marked many of their warriors for deeds committed in battle, but of course these were men who had been specially chosen as spies who could blend among the Britai.

  He cast a scornful glance her direction. “What good did that do you?” he asked as he brought his mare close. “I told you that you had no chance.”

  “And I do not believe in going obediently to slaughter,” she answered with a glare. “I am afraid you will have to fight to take the life you want so much.”

  His eyes were full of contempt. “This will lead to nothing. You will still die. The peace will still be destroyed.” Fenric drew his sword. “Come now and I swear I will make it quick.” He glanced back toward the other riders and looked back. “Hold out and I promise you I will let them do their duty, a duty they will find much pleasure in.” He leaned closer. “They will make you beg for death before they finally put a blade to you.” Fenric held out his hand. “These are your choices. Choose.”

  Ishar let go of the gelding and the horse snorted and blew softly as it snuffled the ground in search of food. She could feel the nothingness behind her. She watched as Fenric smiled and slid off his horse waiting for her to come to him. Ishar straightened her back and stared stiffly at him. She took a deep breath in preparation. The look she cast him was one of derision. “There are always more choices Fenric, even when we think none exist.” She turned and without wavering, leapt from the cliff.

  12

  Fenric stared in disbelief at the vacant space before him. “Ishar,” he screamed. He made his way along with the other riders to the edge and looked down. All he saw was the churning of the waves.

  One raider spit onto the ground. “The bitch is dead. Good riddance.”

  “Easy for you to say,” another complained. “She was pretty. I looked forward to the next few hours alone with her. Pity she had to die. She would have fetched a good number of coins at market.”

  Fenric listened to their remarks with revulsion. He had little need for the loathsome creatures except for the results they had helped produce. He turned as their leader rode forward. He was the only one of the mounted Tourna who wore the elaborate facial markings that signified status among them. The tattoos, which covered most of his face, spoke of years of battle, of carnage, and marked him as a man of standing.

  The leader, with dark black eyes, looked over the scene before them. He turned to Fenric. “We will deal with retrieving the body from the water or beach below,” he said stiffly. Fenric could tell by his tone that the Raider cared little for him but he listened as the man continued, “You need to go and meet Ryen of the Haaldyn. Tell him your reception by Varyk was not accommodating and you left for fear of your life. Tell him you warned his daughter of the feeling of animosity you felt from all in the holding but she would not heed your words. Tell him you felt compelled to ride and warn him of a possible deception by this Varyk.” The man leaned over and spat. He glanced up. “We will see that the body is placed and let you know where it may be found. When you get to the holding and Varyk is unable to produce his daughter, Ryen will begin to believe the truth you have placed before him and when his daughter’s body is found, will declare war on Varyk.”

  “And the Lute?” Fenric added softly.

  The Raider nodded. “We have a Raanan dagger. It, along with several Lute arrows, will be found in her body. Have no worries, there will be no doubt. Just go,” he ordered curtly with a wave of his hand. “We must make our way.”

  Fenric nodded and mounted his mare. He slapped the horse’s rear and animal broke into a quick trot as he made his way through the opening and down the trail. Fenric smiled. The future he wanted was all but achieved. He kicked the mare into a canter.

  *

  Ishar had passed out after her struggle within the water. She could vaguely recall pulling herself onto the beach, her fingers digging deep into sand as she clawed her way out of the water. She had collapsed almost immediately. Although her trip ashore had been difficult, it was not what surprised her. Her survival after leaping from the high cliff far above the ocean and splashing deep into the ocean had.

  The moment Ishar hit the water her body had plummeted downward. As soon as her descent stopped, she had angled herself and lashed out with her feet to gain the surface. Her lungs burned by the time she broke the top of the churning ocean waters and by then the undercurrents had carried her dangerously close to the rocks dotting the water. Seeing what had appeared to be sand off to her right and she had begun her struggle to swim the distance.

  It was yet another determination of her will to survive. She tried not to think about Fenric’s betrayal as she rose from the sandy ground. A sudden pain along her side helped and Ishar blinked back tears as her breath caught. Her right arm held her up while her other arm cradled her left side gingerly. Apparently she had failed to escape the jump unscathed. Ishar raised herself until she was kneeling on the sand. Her left side throbbed.

  Ishar attempted a breath. Her left side rippled with pain. She kept her breathing light and shallow as she placed her right foot under her and rose. Both feet took the weight, though her legs shook. Ishar glanced up warily. They would come. They had no choice. To gather the body the Raiders and Fenric would seek this beach and soon. She would have to be ready. Ishar glanced down at the single dagger hung at her waist that had miraculously survived the fall with her. She looked around and studied the best avenue for defense. There was only one advantage. The Tourna would assume she had failed to survive the fall. They would search the ocean and near the water before they considered anything else. She needed to be ready. Ishar made her way toward the cover of rocks.

  *

  Traevyn wondered at Lysandr’s raising of his hand for silence but said nothing. He and all the other men waited to see what had disturbed their second-in-command. His eyes widened wh
en Lysandr gave the signal that someone was coming. The Raanan warriors moved off the rocky trail they had been following into a shallow side passageway and drew their swords in readiness. Traevyn doubted it was Ishar. Why would she redouble back on her own tracks? He waited and watched calmly. A moment later a man passed by, quietly nudging a mare along with kicks from his feet. Traevyn recognized him. It was the friend of Ishar’s, Fenric, who had left the holding days earlier to seek out her father. What was he doing here? Traevyn made a move to edge his horse forward. He wanted to know the man’s business and what he knew of Ishar. Lysandr raised his hand again for silence. The sound of an approaching rider made itself known. The noise increased and Traevyn quickly realized it was more than a single person moving along the trail and they apparently lacked any desire for silence.

  All waited in the shadows of the small ravine as the riders drew by the opening and continued down the slope toward the ocean. They were men dressed as Britai, but Traevyn had never seen any Britai as organized as these, or so heavily armed. He tried to note their faces and felt his body tense. Their front leader bore facial markings he recognized all too well. These men were Tourna. Traevyn felt his breath deepen in readiness for battle. He could sense the rage from the men but all held to Lysandr’s raised hand of silence. It was several minutes after the last one had past that Lysandr motioned for them to gather. Rayne slipped out past him, without his horse, and begin to track their enemy back down the rocky slope.

  Ber, as usual, was the first to talk. “Bastards,” he muttered, “And here on this island.” He glanced at Lysandr. “So. The rumors are true.”

  Kagon nodded. “Let us go and kill them.” Ber nodded his agreement.

  “Wait,” Davaris uttered solemnly. “We have followed Ishar’s trail. These men have intersected it. What does it mean?”

  Lysandr sighed. “That we have found the men who Audris’ spied for and the people who Ishar was sent toward.”

  “Tourna?” Gavin stated in disgust. “Even Audris cannot hate that much.”

  “What of the Haaldyn?” Glyndwr noted with a frown. “Why was he here? Surely he did not pass them by unnoticed and I doubt they would let him calmly ride on unless he was allied with them in whatever evil they are intending.”

  “Lutes and Haaldyn working with the Tourna,” Ber said in disgust.

  “Their intention is Ishar’s death,” Davaris spoke solemnly.

  “Then let us see they do not achieve it,” Lysandr said with a nod.

  “How do you know they have not already done this very thing?” Kagon rumbled softly.

  Lysandr shook his head. “I did not see her body and they would not leave it. They would want to use it as a prop to set into motion Ryen’s wrath. They need the body for that purpose.”

  “Then she still lives.” Traevyn was relieved.

  “I would suggest we follow them,” Gavin said, “Perhaps this Fenric goes to meet and trap her for the Tourna. She would trust his coming,” he added.

  “As Eira trusted Audris,” Glyndwr ground out.

  “We ride,” Lysandr spoke, motioning with his hands to move out, “but with care. We know not about this course we take.” He glanced at Glyndwr. “Take Rayne’s horse and lead him.” He looked toward the others. “Be on guard.” Lysandr nudged his horse out onto the trail.

  *

  Ishar braced her back against the rock and looked down the beach. She could see the beginnings of a trail. It was from that direction her enemy would come. With her left arm held close protecting her injured side she clasped the dagger gripped tight in her right hand, and waited. It was not long before the clatter of hooves reached her ears. Ishar flattened herself against the boulder behind her. She knew the moment they entered the beach. The clump of hooves on rock disappeared as the horses tried to find their footing in the loose brown sand. Ishar could hear the jingle of their bridles and the creak of their movement in the saddles as they came closer.

  She eased away from the boulder and stepped up on a smaller rock to look over the top edge and judge the situation. The Tourna were spread out along the water’s edge. The froth of the ocean lapped around the feet of their mounts. The men studied the swelling surf. They were looking for her body, Ishar realized. She narrowed her eyes in thought as she took a measured glance at the horses. She realized if she could get one of their mounts she would have a chance, though slim, to get away and try to slip into the mountains. The riders continued to spread out farther along the lapping lip of seawater. A few dismounted, looking among rocks dotting the ocean’s edge. One of the men close to her position poked around the sandy edge before turning in her direction as he studied the ground. Ishar studied his perusal. Had she covered her tracks well? She took a quick breath, braced her body against the boulder and grimly waited. With many friends close, this death would have to be quick and quiet.

  The slide of shoes upon rock drew her focus and Ishar trained her ears to detect his presence. She had situated herself on a small ledge along one of several broken paths among the high boulders. The raider studied the rocky terrain as he came past a high rock and her position. Ishar waited breathlessly until he had nearly passed, then leapt upon his back, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as her right hand drove the dagger deep into his throat. Her side protested the movement but her left hand reached up and covered the man’s slight moan. Then there was only the sound of bubbles as air escaped through his torn throat. Her added weight drove him to the ground and she lay there draped over the dead body, gasping softly in the pain that each breath brought. She rose up and stared with triumph over her find.

  Strapped to his back were a sword and a quiver full of arrows. His bow had been slung over his head and arm. Ishar quickly removed the items and strapped them to her body for defense. She kept the bow in hand. A fighting dagger she found was stuck in one boot. Holding her side, she rose with a grimace and turned toward the open beach. Compared to the numbers she faced Ishar knew the odds were still against her, but with the weapons they would not find her such an easy kill. It might give them pause. She heard a voice call out a name and wondered if the calls were for their dead friend. Ishar flicked a glance down at the dead man, then moved past him and made her way back toward the open beach, readying an arrow as she went.

  The men still scoured the beach area and scanned the ocean. The dead man’s horse snuffed at the sand and snorted, about ten feet away. Ishar frowned. The only exit from the beach was still the path from which the Tourna had emerged and the men were staggered inbetween. She sighed, torn and undecided. Choosing to mount and ride out seemed certain death, but waiting for the raiders to find her within the rocks could only end the same, and eventually they would. The disappearance of their man would not go unnoticed for long.

  Even as she wavered, undecided, a lone Tourna raider rode up beside the riderless horse. He glanced around. “Leeat,” he called out. With a scowl, he dismounted and made his way toward the rocks. “Leeat,” he grumbled, “What have you found?”

  Ishar slid back until she had ample arm room and a chance of surprise. When he rounded the corner, his eyes widened at the sight of her. “Me,” she said as she released the arrow.

  The arrow struck with a thunk deep into the man’s chest. He gave a slight yell and then fell back dead. Ishar cursed and made her way past him toward the beach. There was no way some had not heard his cry. At the very least she now had more weapons.

  Sure enough two riders were heading in her direction when Ishar made her presence known. Notching an arrow she quickly let it fly in the direction of the nearest Tourna who screamed as it pierced his left shoulder. She quickly readied another arrow as the rest of the Tourna turned toward the sound. She let the second arrow fly and watched as it struck solid. A raider fell back backward off his saddle without a sound and hit the sand with a thud. There were still over fifteen Tourna left whose attention was now focused on her. Ishar snatched another arrow and waited for them to close the distance.

  A r
oar pierced the air and Ishar watched as the Tourna turned toward it. Eight Raanan warriors poured out of the path and onto the beach. They lined themselves up for combat. Ber refused to wait for an invitation. He charged his horse toward the nearest Tourna with another roar and a raised sword. Kagon joined him. The Tourna, faced with this sudden threat, turned to engage and for the moment Ishar was left unchallenged. She eyed the Raanans with desperation. Just what she needed. Another enemy to fight. How had they found her so quickly? In desperation, she groaned at her misfortune. Perhaps her fortunes would turn. Maybe they would all kill one another. She could only hope. Ishar sighed as she sought an avenue of escape. At least in the unfolding turmoil she might have a chance to slip away. She eyed the mount snuffling the ground nervously toward the water’s edge. Ishar skirted the large rocks and moved onto the sandy beach. An arrow thunked against the rock near her head and she dropped, catching sight of a Tourna in the process of arming his bow again. Apparently they were not completely without disregard to her position. She slid down behind a small boulder and brought her bow up to bear.

  The raider never had a chance. Before he could release another arrow he screamed, arched his chest and jerked his arms outward. Ishar watched in confusion with her notched arrow as he slid to one side and off the mount. The horse skittered away nervously. She looked up. Her eyes widened as she stared into the unreadable eyes of Traevyn. He was scowling as he reached for another arrow, all the while attempting to control his horse.

  The Raanans were outnumbered but not outmatched. Ber and Kagon were mercilessly hacking their way through the Tourna ranks with raw emotion, but the Tourna were not without their own skill. Gavin and Davaris had engaged two Tourna swordsmen and seemed evenly matched, but even as she watched Davaris’ brute strength begin to wear down his opponent, as with each roar and swing the raider fell back. Lysandr and Rayne, surrounded by at least five Tourna, held their own. Glyndwr and Traevyn, armed with bows, bordered the edge, firing whenever a clear shot revealed itself. Ishar watched as a Tourna moved too close and Glyndwr had to grab his sword in defense.