Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, 5) (10 page)

One by one the enemy recovered and advanced. Wild-eyed and hopeless, they swung their swords or tried to throw their knives, defiant to the last in a land they had stolen.

She
slapped
her
Gift
onto their minds even as one of the enemy reached her with a battle cry.
Sucking in,
she drank in all his energy and life force, sapping him of strength and power. Confusion stole over his expression, and then a flash of fear, before he sank to the ground.

“There’s your officer,” she said as she jumped back, avoiding his thrust. The others behind him fell as well, some clawing toward her with determination not common in enlisted men. They must’ve been the Graygual flunkies, only useful for occupation and dying.

“What were these men promised in order to fight through their fear?” Cayan asked.

Rohnan backed away toward the door, as far away from those on the ground as possible. “They were manic. Their emotions weren’t right. Corroded, almost.”

“One wonders how long they have been kept in this place.” Kallon checked the pulse of the Graygual at Shanti’s feet. “He lives. That is a useful trick.”

“It’s a dirty trick when used how I was taught it. It came from the Inkna.” Shanti put away her throwing knives and spread her
Gift
out. She felt her people, a few females that were probably prostitutes, and a couple of hiding enemy that the Shadow were making their way toward. No cunning intellect of a higher officer or inner-circle member. It didn’t mean they weren’t there. If last night had taught her anything, it was that Xandre wasn’t showing his entire arsenal, and he wasn’t going after her. He was waiting, and watching. Learning. When he did move, it would be with intelligence and purpose.

“How many cities like this does he have?” Shanti asked with a flash of rage. She faced her people. “How many in this land are his puppets, hoping for handouts and willing to lay down their lives for a cause they barely know? He can hide forever, sending disposable troops at us until he organizes a well-trained horde to take us down. It disgusts me how callous he is with human life.”

“Which is why we are going to kill him.” Kallon’s stormy eyes flashed. “It is why we will avenge our people, and those who suffer by his hand. This is our destiny.”

“It’s why we are going to hit him where it hurts the most.” Cayan dragged a piece of fabric over his blood-smeared blade. “In his pocket.” He gestured Shanti toward the door with a last look at those on the ground. “Let’s clear out the rest of the city. I want to make sure there’s no one hiding in here with us, waiting for the cover of darkness.”

“
S
ir
, I am pretty sure there is someone in there…” Gracas looked at the door to the dilapidated house with wide eyes.

Sanders gritted his teeth in an effort to maintain calm. The grinding sound gave him away. “Private, speak only when you can
add
to the situation.”

“Yes, sir.” Gracas shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then back again. “But do you want me to go in there, sir?”

Sanders stepped forward and grabbed the idiot by the back of his collar. He gave a mighty heave, smashing Gracas into the door. The door burst open, spilling Gracas into the dark space beyond. Sanders stepped in a moment later, and saw the woman Denessa had said was in there. Just as Denessa said, the woman wasn’t armed, nor hostile. She sat at the edge of the bed with a patient air and a dead man lying beside her.

“Did he forget to tip?” Sanders peered behind a dresser into the shadowed corner, making sure there was no one intending to pop out unannounced.

“He scum, like them all.” The prostitute heaved her girth up off the bed and adjusted her bodice. Her large chest wiggled, drawing more than one set of eyes.

“What happened to the people who used to live here?” Sanders asked, checking the closet. “They try to pay you, too?”

The woman sauntered forward with confidence. “Graygual move in, the others move out. Into graves. All dead.”

Sanders motioned for the others to evacuate the small room. “You saw this?”

“No. I hear. I came after.”

“You came of your own volition?”

The woman’s brow scrunched up for a moment. “Your big words don’t make your dick grow.”

Sanders huffed out a laugh. “Too bad, ay? You come here on your own, or did the Graygual move you in?”

“Graygual come, we come. We work. We wait.”

“For what?”

“For Wanderer. We help.” The woman gestured down at the dead man. She didn’t seem to notice the droplets of blood puddled on the floor and reaching toward her heeled shoe.

“We need all the help we can get.” Sanders turned toward the door. To those waiting for him, he said, “Check in with all the women in the houses. Make sure they know the skirmish is over and they are free to go.”

“We always been free to go.” The woman, who had followed Sanders out, put her hands to her ample hips.

Sanders gritted his teeth again. What was it about him that invited women to speak their minds? Would nothing in his life be easy? “Tell the men that these women have a habit of killing their clients.” He stalked toward his horse.

“You think anyone in here has that mind mask like last night?” Tomous asked as Sanders neared the horses.

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out, aren’t we?” Sanders said. “Let’s get this wrapped up and get gone. If we don’t find them in here, we’ll find them on the journey.”

“You think they’ll follow us?” Tomous climbed onto his horse.

Sanders waited for everyone to saddle up. They needed to spread their eyes around the city. If any with the mind mask were in there, Denessa wouldn’t be any help to find them. It was time to do things the right way—with hard work and army know-how. “Whoever found us last night didn’t do so by chance. The enemy wants eyes on us, and he found someone that Shanti couldn’t see with her head. Just so happens I got eyes. They won’t hide from me for long.”

“An invisible enemy is hard to take down. Even for someone with eyes,” Denessa said in a level tone.

“I’m no greenie, let’s get that right. Butt out.” Sanders clicked his tongue to get his horse walking.

“But…out…” Denessa gave him a confused frown. “I do not know that term.”

“It means fuck off.” Sanders spurred his animal. “C’mon. We got shadows to find.”

* * *

A
lena waited
with Leilius in barely suppressed nervousness at the front gate of the city. The other warriors were supposed to be flushing people out the back gate, into the waiting jaws of Lucius and the archers, but that didn’t mean someone wouldn’t accidentally run this way. With a sword.

The warm wood felt sturdy in her grip.

She’d just have to take them down before they got too close. It was doable. She had time.

An image of the Graygual from the previous night drifted through her mind. Specifically of him flicking his sword and batting away Maggie’s fire-crusted arrow.

Alena’s horse stomped, probably feeling her worry.

She really hoped those men had all been killed. And if not, that they hadn’t followed the army into the city walls.

“I hope no one comes this way,” Leilius said softly, as if hearing her thoughts. “I’m not used to this kind of thing. I still want to vomit when I stab someone. I don’t like the sight of blood.”

“Then why are you still in the army?” Alena took a deep breath and shifted, trying to loosen herself up. If she was too stiff, it would affect her aim. That might lead to the death of one of them.

“Because S’am needs me. She has to kill that Supreme man, and she needs help.”

“But if you don’t like killing people, how are you much help? I mean…” She swatted at a fly. “They put us out here, out of the way. Everyone else is helping tie everything up in there.”

“I can get information. That’s what I’m good at.” A sickly expression crossed his face. “I can protect the city if need be, and sneak up on an enemy and stick a knife in him if I have to, but S’am is training me to be the eyes and ears in enemy territory. I’m good at that.”

Alena rolled her shoulders as a strange feeling itched between her shoulder blades. Her body erupted in goosebumps. It almost felt like someone was lightly poking her.

She glanced at the broken gate. The scant trees beyond twisted and reached like dead things clawing at life, giving the city a haunted feel. “This is an ugly land.”

“It’s not so different from ours, it’s just the Mugdock cut down a bunch of trees close to the city. They should’ve spread out the cutting if they needed wood, like we do. That way it wouldn’t look so dead.”

“Regardless of the reason, it’s ugly.” Alena shook her shoulders. “I don’t like the open area at my back.”

Leilius glanced behind him. A frown crossed his face. “Something up?”

She shivered, feeling the press of eyes.

She guided her horse to the right, partially shielded from the land outside. “I just don’t like putting my back to the unknown.”

They passed a moment in silence as Alena felt that weird sensation again. It was almost as if a finger was tapping her on the shoulder.

Alena bent forward to look out of the gate. A blur of a black shape slid behind a tree up on the hillside.

Frowning, Alena walked her horse forward a couple steps so she could see.

A tall reed waggled in the breeze. Nothing else moved.

“Are the cats out?” she asked into the hush.

“Out there somewhere, I think. Why? Did you see something?”

Alena stared at that tree so hard it started looking distorted. Nothing moved, save the brittle leaves hanging desperately from the trees. “Nah.”

“Are you sure?” Leilius clicked his tongue, having his horse walking forward to even up to her. He looked out the gate. “You should never second-guess yourself.”

“I thought I saw a black shape, but…”

“And you think it was the cat?”

Alena shook her head, feeling that weird itch between her shoulder blades subside. “No, I don’t think so. I’m just jumpy, I think.”

“Okay…” The word was drawn out in a wishy-washy sort of voice. Leilius shrugged with one shoulder. “But if you think we should check it out…”

“
We’d
check it out?” An image of the man fighting Shanti last night flared in her memory. His sleek movements and inhuman speed paired with the glimmer on his blade. She sat back farther in her saddle. “It was probably nothing.”

A shout sounded somewhere in front of them, and then was answered off to the right.

Alena glanced back out through the gate. A man, his face half covered in black, stood next to the tree. Staring at her.

A zing of adrenaline zipped through her body. Her hair follicles tingled in fear. “Oh no!” Her hands jerked to the right of their own accord. Dragging her horse’s head toward him.
Why?
“Leilius. Quick. Help!”

“What? What’s happening?” Leilius spurred his horse and brought up his knife. “Where?”

The man took off at a run, immediately masked by the wall.

“There’s someone out there. One of those men!” Alena spurred her horse to the gate, but then stopped. “Should we follow? What should we do?”

The blood drained from Leilius’ face. “Not follow!” Fear coated each syllable. “Let’s get S’am.”

“What about the people watching the rear exit? They are completely exposed!”

Indecision froze Leilius’ movements. He stared at Alena with wide, fear-soaked eyes. Then his expression hardened up and his brow settled low. “We have to warn them. Let’s go!”

“What about S’am?” Alena said, spurring her horse forward.

“We don’t have time.”

“We’re supposed to
think
to communicate, remember?” Alena dug her heels into the horse’s sides.

“Don’t worry. I’m terrified. I’m communicating enough for the both of us.”

* * *

L
ucius’ horse neighed
. It shook its head, its ears flattening. A black shape slid under cover like a phantom. He sat forward in his saddle, focusing hard on that area. His hand held his sword in a painful grip.

A feline tail flicked before disappearing.

Lucius heaved a silent sigh.

He shook his head and walked his horse forward, hoping some distance from the predators would calm it. “We shouldn’t have those things around the horses in battle.”

Timken, a man Lucius had come to know quite well when the Graygual had taken over the city, squinted as he looked at the rear gate. They sat on the hillside overlooking this side of the city, taking down anyone trying to escape from within. “It’s hard to say. They were handy last night. They took down two men that would’ve escaped.”

“They’re useful, don’t get me wrong, but they don’t work well with the horses. The last thing you want is to be thrown before you even reach the battle.”

Timken spat. One of the women in front of him glanced back with a scowl.

Horses off to the right started neighing and stamping their feet. One danced left, having its relatively inexperienced rider clutching her reins. Lucius clicked, getting the horse walking. He made his way down the back of the line as two Graygual sprinted through the open gate. The archers were ready. Two arrows were loosed immediately, followed by three more. Four arrows stuck in the man closest, and one went wide, barely glancing the leg of the other. The first man sank to his knees as the other faltered, his hand going for his thigh. Two more arrows flew, sticking in his side and his arm. He stumbled, dropping to all fours, before rolling to his unharmed side.

“Should we go finish him off, sir?” Abigail, a middle-aged woman who Lucius had incorrectly assumed was shy and reserved, fingered her knives.

“He’s dying already, I think.” Lucius’ horse pranced and stomped the ground.

A black shape shook the foliage on the hill above them.

Lucius turned with his bow held up, waiting. The horse blew out a breath and pawed the ground.

A speck of black zipped further down the hillside but to the right, this cat moving off with the other.

Lucius sighed again, this time more audibly. He didn’t know what was worse—the cats or skilled Graygual. Both were unpredictable and deadly.

“You ladies need better communication,” Timken was saying, unaware of the danger behind him. “If you are this still and close, call out your man. Then hit your mark. There is no sense wasting all our arrows on the same man, or getting one but missing the other.”

Another man fled the city through the gate. His sword was out but it didn’t look like he had much of an idea of what to do with it.

“Mine!” “Mine!”
“Mine!” “
I’ll get him!”

A slew of arrows flew out, all of them hitting their mark. Timken’s chest deflated as he shook his head.