Heir of the Dragon

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Heir of the Dragon Page 26

by Anna Logan


  Yhkon was on his feet before he’d fully registered the alarm...Larak must have taken a perimeter check. Asyjgon. They were back. Again. After narrowly getting Haeric out alive, Yhkon had rejoined the rest of the group. Since then there had been one other fight which they’d only escaped from because they knew the terrain better and were able to shake the Asyjgon off their trail. There had originally been fifteen of the warriors, but one must have been injured or left for some other reason, leaving fourteen. Still double our own numbers. He’d been hoping, in a backwards sort of way, that the warriors would have retreated to gather some form of reinforcements, giving the Wardens some time to recuperate and reach out to the wards or find some Elikwai.

  No such luck. He was shoving his armor on with as little effort as possible and helping Jay in any way he could. By the time they left the tent with all their gear, ready to take it down, Grrake was there to help. “Are you feeling better, Jay?”

  “I am, just in time, apparently!” She grinned.

  They had the tent down in a matter of moments. Everything packed on the celiths, they climbed up too. Yhkon made a sweeping scan to ensure everyone was present and ready, before setting Eclipse at a canter. Larak had said the Asyjgon were approaching from the south, so they traveled north. Cantering always felt unbearably slow when they were fleeing an enemy, but it was the same pace the Asyjgon usually held. Galloping on a celith in forest was simply too risky.

  With their celiths being so evenly matched in speed and endurance, it was almost impossible for either group to gain ground. Which meant it would be a long night.

  Morning found all of them cold, miserable, and exhausted. Celiths included. Yhkon suspected it could only last a few more hours. Both their celiths and the Asyjgon’s could only keep the pace so long. Part of him would be glad to be done with the monotonous running, but since a fight with seven of them against the fourteen Asyjgon wasn’t likely to end well...a larger part of him dreaded it. That was the one thing about having Jaylee on the team that still bothered him. He never used to worry about any of his fellow Wardens in a fight. With her, he couldn’t help it, even though he knew she was plenty capable.

  And Grrake. Yhkon thought he was beginning to slow down with age. Just a little. But even half a second could make a difference in a battle. If something happened to either of them…

  He shook his head to clear the thought. It was brought straight back, however, when he glanced at Jaylee to find her pale and clutching her stomach. “Jay?”

  At first, she tried to give him a brave face. Then her eyes widened and she hastily leaned to the side to vomit.

  Yhkon swore inwardly. If it weren’t bad enough that she was sick, maybe seriously so, now she was sick at the worst possible time. When she sat back up, expression pained and arm around her middle, he moved Eclipse closer to take her free hand. His jaw was tightening, and all he could get out was a condensed version of his question. “How bad?”

  She took a few steadying breaths, trying to smile. “Oh, it’s good times...good times for sure.”

  That was answer enough. What was he supposed to do? Riding was no doubt making it worse, but if they stopped...the six of them couldn’t protect her. She would end up fighting whether he liked it or not. There was no answer. And nothing he could do. She had closed her eyes, inclined forward, biting her lip hard enough to make the color drain away. All he could do was clench his fists and swear again.

  Larak brought his massive celith beside Eclipse. “I think we need to stop. She won’t get better while we’re riding and we can only go on like this so long, anyway. We’ll just have to take them.”

  “Wha-what if we c-ca—” He couldn’t get it out. What if we can’t?!

  Larak just shook his head firmly. “We have to! If we can take down their celiths, then we can get away without having to defeat them entirely. Okay?”

  Yhkon looked again to Jaylee. Moaning a little, she gave him a tight nod. With a weight in his gut, he lifted his fist to signal a stop and pulled Eclipse around to face the opposite direction. Larak saved him from having to stutter out orders by explaining the plan and directing everyone to their positions. Dismounted, their celiths and Jaylee in the back, the rest of them got ready with bows and arrows to take down the Asyjgon celiths as soon as they were in range. Yhkon had never liked targeting celiths, and he knew it was a shared feeling among most warriors. But in a situation like this, he could easily set that dislike aside.

  He could hear the hoofbeats now—dull and slurred. The Asyjgon celiths were just as tired as theirs. Then they were coming into view. It was a brief opening. He drew back an arrow, let it fly, and another, and another. At that distance with fast-moving targets, only one struck. Between the other five Wardens, as many celiths were taken down, before their riders ended the opportunity by dismounting and charging on foot. Seconds left. Yhkon fired two more arrows. Both were dodged or deflected by armor. Resh and Gustor, as the best archers, took one warrior down and injured two others before they all had to put the bows away and draw their swords.

  A sword and a scythe came flying at Yhkon. Duck to the left, parry the other, let his blade slide off to make a strike at the wielder, the scythe was coming again, backstep, make a swing—no, block the sword. Scythe. He dove at the swordsman, narrowly avoiding the scythe and almost landing a blow. They weren’t to be so easily conquered. He had to surrender his offensive or have his arm taken off. Under the constant assault of the two skilled Asyjgon, he couldn’t take so much as a second to analyze the condition of his team. Thirteen Asyjgon. If each of them had two like he did, then there would be one left over…

  Through clashes of steel and grunts and boots sliding through the dirt and his own heartbeat, he could just hear her. Jaylee was fighting. From her direction, there was a whistle. Out of the corner of his eye, Yhkon saw an Asyjgon disengage another of the Wardens and move that way.

  He recoiled from the sword coming for his throat. Anger burned hot in every muscle. It was a cunning, effective, and despicable tactic: gain up on the weakest member. Clearly, it hadn’t taken long for Jaylee’s opponent to conclude she was at a disadvantage and signal to the rest of his pack.

  Grrake wasn’t able to chide him for risky moves. He turned sideways and launched himself between the oncoming weapons, grabbing the arm of the swordsman and yanking with all his might. Partial success—the man stumbled, enough to bump his companion and set them both off balance.

  It was good enough for Yhkon. He turned and bolted for Jaylee, just as she cried out. There wasn’t time to make out details—he saw her staggering back, he saw she was bleeding, and he saw the two Asyjgon about to kill her. He rammed into one, kicking at the knee of the other. Missed. But he had their attention. A mace was making a wide arc toward his chest, steel glinting in the sunlight. Too wide. He ducked under the blow and spun into a swing at the other man before he could go after Jay again.

  She was up and trying to rejoin the fight. Her sword flashed by him at one of their foes...it was a little sloppy and angled wrong. She was using her non-dominant hand. Jaylee had trained herself to be able to fight with both hands, better than most could—but she couldn’t survive against these men with only her left.

  Yhkon tried to keep in front of her, to take as much of the onslaught as he could. An Asyjgon still managed to lunge past him and tackle her. By the time Yhkon beat back the remaining warrior so he could turn to pull the man off, Jaylee screamed. It all happened too fast—what had he done to her? How bad was she hurt?

  He couldn’t find out. She was crumpled on the ground and he was throwing the Asyjgon off her, while the other one took the opportunity to make a stab for his stomach. He twisted to dodge it, the blade still piercing his shirt and grazing his side. A quick glance showed what he was looking for—two trees close together, a few paces back. “Back!” Fortunately, Jay understood his abbreviated command. She crawled backwards to the trees while he backed up, so that the Asyjgon wouldn’t be able to easily circle him to
get to her. They were about to attack again. If he could just beat these two…

  To his horror, the two Asyjgon he’d originally been fighting were running to join the fight.

  “S-s-s—” he couldn’t get the word past his locked jaw. Jay knew what he wanted. Her sword landed in his left hand, just in time for him to receive the additional opponents.

  Iron was coming at him from all sides, constantly. Block that weapon, block that one, duck, block again, duck, block. Offensive wasn’t an option. Neither was backing up, or any spread-out maneuvers, lest he leave Jay unguarded.

  The anger was gone. The heat, gone. His body was cold. If he couldn’t hold all four of them off...Jaylee would die.

  Jaylee couldn’t die.

  It had often been the hot fury that had carried him through tough spots. Now, it was some new beast...some wild thing. Fear. Poking through between all the clangs of steel and strikes and parries and footsteps and shrouded figures that danced about him, intermingling with it all in his consciousness, was Tessa, covered in blood, limp, dead in his arms. Except it wasn’t Tessa. It was Jay.

  Yhkon fought almost blindly. There wasn’t the time to see and react to each threat as it arose. Instinct and muscle memory had to be enough. He didn’t know a sword had been about to impale him until he felt it colliding with his own, the force of it sending tremors up his arm. Every muscle was burning, rigid and out of his control and constantly moving. He thought he’d taken a slice or two, failing to evade some of the blows hammered down on him, but he wasn’t sure. There wasn’t any pain. Just the burning. His whole body contorting and stretching and working, desperately.

  Somewhere in the chaos, one of his reckless counterattacks hit its mark. There were still three blades blurring about, trying to kill him. Something silver flew from below and behind him, there was a thud, and one of the remaining Asyjgon staggered a bit. Jay had hit him with a knife. It didn’t immobilize him, he was back, more sluggish, still a flying blade. Yhkon saw a spray of blood from his lower peripheral vision, and he felt that one—it wasn’t the fiery pain it should have been. He just felt it tear, felt his skin being parted by the chill of the blade, from somewhere on his abdomen to somewhere on his chest. And he felt something smack his head, or his head smack something, something with his head...

  A sort of blackness began pulsing around the edges of his eyes. Everything was a blur...were they moving faster? He still felt himself moving...it was strange and distant. There was red flashing about him. A sense of fading...he was fading. But he was fighting. There was noise everywhere, thick and drowned out, yet grating on his senses. He wanted to curl up in himself to escape it. Something high-pitched and thin. A whistle. Yelling, all the yelling...movement...Jaylee.

  Jaylee.

  He opened his eyes. No, he didn’t, they were already open. Everything was murky. Colors and sounds and...and the ground, hitting him. Jaylee. Her fingers were cold against his cheek, then her lips warm on his forehead.

  The pulsing ebbed away, as all the swirling colors shuffled back into their proper places and the tingling and ringing surrendered his senses back into his awareness.

  “Yhkon!” She was kissing him, and moving his head about as if looking for something, and cradling one arm, and crying.

  He reached up to still the hand that was digging about in his hair. “What…”

  “One of them hit you!” She abandoned her search as she had to wipe tears from her eyes. “Are you...do you have a concussion again? Do you understand me? Please, please talk...you have to be okay...please—”

  “I understand.” In fact, his jaw wasn’t even tight…until his vision finished clearing...her arm was covered in blood. She looked exhausted and terrified and white as a ghost. He sat up, pulling her to his chest, holding her head against his shoulder. His hands were shaking and his jaw was tight again. She was alive. Thank Narone, she was alive. They had survived...the Asyjgon were gone...she was alive. “Jay…” His voice tremored. “I c-can’t...you...I can’t! You’re sick and almost d-died, I…no it’s, I can’t…”

  “Honey.” She silenced him with her hand on his cheek. “The reason I’m sick…”

  In the moment she paused, a wave of dizziness swept from his gut to his head. With it, the pain began where previously there’d been numbness.

  “I’m pregnant.” Her eyes lit with the smile that lifted her bloodied lips. “We’re going to be parents.”

  The dizziness landed in his head and stayed there. She’s pregnant. That was...well that was...the pain flared again, his lungs tightened with it and he couldn’t so much as breathe, but he thought he was grinning. He knew he was holding her, he kissed her hair and her forehead, even as a groan got past his empty lungs, and he felt his fingers curling while his arms shook. The spasm of pain brought a thousand black dots to his vision. But he still found her mouth to kiss, choking on a laugh, trying to tell her he loved her...he wasn’t sure what words actually got out, but they would have to do.

  He was still holding her, as she whispered in his ear, again and again—they were going to have a baby, and she loved him, and he was going to be a father, and he didn’t have to worry anymore, they were going to have a baby. He didn’t realize someone else had approached until Larak was pulling Jaylee away to check her injuries, and Grrake was lifting Yhkon up when he started to slump over.

  “Yhkon! You’re...what happened? How many were you…?” He saw the blood on Yhkon’s shirt and froze, shaking his head slightly, dazed. “Larak…”

  Larak, busy squeezing Jay’s arm to stop the bleeding, looked up at him. “Get his shirt off.”

  Yhkon surprised himself, and them, by laughing. Oh well, what did it matter—the pain was as excruciating as ever and he hardly cared. He just looked at Jaylee, and she at him, and he did what he could to help Grrake get his gear and shirt off.

  Larak’s eyebrows moved opposite, one up, one down. He spoke sideways to Jay, as if Yhkon weren’t there. “What’s wrong with him?”

  She laughed too, through a wince at the pressure he was applying to her arm. “He did get a hit on the head...but I don’t think that’s the problem.”

  Yhkon’s shirt was off, and Larak peered at the long gash on his abdomen, giving a hum from deep in his throat. “You’ll live. Get some pressure on it, Grrake.”

  Grrake wadded up the shirt and pressed it against the wound. Yhkon grit his teeth. Jay gave him a worried look that helped ease the pain. He reached for her hand.

  “Oh.” The perplexion smoothed out of Larak’s heavy features, then twisted into a smirk. “I see. You finally told him.” It made Jaylee blush.

  Grrake looked at all three of them in turn. “Told him what?”

  Larak chuckled. “You hadn’t figured it out? You saw it one more time than I did, old man.”

  “Saw...what?”

  Jaylee, with a sheepish, beautiful happiness in her eyes and smile, gave it to him plainly. “I’m pregnant. That’s why I’ve been sick.”

  Grrake’s bafflement didn’t last long. In its place, a wide, even boyish grin. Apparently he didn’t know what to say—he started to say something, failed, gripped Yhkon’s shoulder, laughed, and ended up hugging both of them as best he could.

  ~♦~

  “It will be better this way.” Yhkon took her hand. “I need you...both of you...safe.”

  Jaylee nodded, giving him a brave smile. “I know. I just don’t like to leave you. Especially now, with all the wards...you know.”

  “Don’t worry about me.”

  “Ha.” She grinned, rolling her eyes as she moved forward and into his arms. “We both know you wouldn’t take the same advice about me.”

  He kissed her hair, letting his eyes close and his body relax against her soft warmth. Truthfully, he didn’t want her to leave either. But, he did want her safe. Her and the baby. “I love you.”

  She stood on tip-toe to kiss him, then stepped back. “And I love you.” Her fingers slipped from his, and with a final smile and a
wave to the other Wardens, she joined the waiting Elikwai and mounted her celith. The five of them rode away, north, toward the outpost.

  Gustor approached with a humph and a punch to Yhkon’s arm. “Newlyweds. So...kissy.”

  Yhkon crossed his arms. “You’re just jealous, as the long-term bachelor in the group.”

  Another humph.

  “Well,” Larak gave him a playful smack too, “maybe now you can keep your head on straight when it comes to business. What’s our plan? We’re down to six. Now if we could just send Tarol off for something, we’d be down to only the brains of the group.”

  Tarol bounced over and grinned stupidly to play along.

  “Ha!” Gustor looped an arm around Resh’s neck. “I think you’re forgetting one.”

  “Alright,” Yhkon shook his head at all of them, amused...but not enough to quell the heaviness he felt. It wasn’t about Jaylee leaving. She was going to Calcaria where she’d be safe, where there were at least a dozen other women in the palace to fuss over her and make sure she was taken care of. There was nothing to be worried about on her behalf. He was confident they’d make the trip there safely. The Asyjgon, three dead, several injured, and missing a few celiths, had retreated from the fight, and he suspected they would take the time to recuperate before they struck again. Jay and the four Elikwai were traveling light and fast, and the Elikwai knew which areas to go around to avoid Kaydorians.

  The tension he felt was for the wards. The last they had heard from Wylan’s team, Wylan had replied to Talea’s message, agreeing to meet them at the second military base. Then, the last he’d heard from Talea, was that Wylan had not arrived.

  That message had come almost three weeks ago. Ever since...silence. Other than the four Elikwai—the remains of a fifteen-man-team that had been attacked by Kaydorians—whom they had found to send Jay with, they hadn’t seen another San Quawr in all that time. That probably, hopefully, meant that Jed and Dranin hadn’t yet mobilized the army and brought them to Zentyre. If they had, he didn’t think it possible that not a single messenger could get through to them with the information. So, he had told Jay to have Jed and Dranin wait. Yes, they had to wait.

 

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