Siege (The Warrior Chronicles, 5) (9 page)

Almost immediately he felt that pulse of danger he attributed to S’am.

A warning surge of electricity worked down his spine. She wouldn’t be using this as a training exercise. Not right before a battle.

The cats, maybe?

Marc spread his arms, trying to make himself bigger. Just in case.

Footsteps approached him from the front of the line.

“What’s—”

Marc punched Xavier in the side, eyes still closed. Xavier grunted, but said nothing. He knew to trust Marc’s violence—it always preceded danger.

Marc took a deep breath, trying to slow his wildly beating heart.

A rustle sounded in front of them, blaring through the dark. Xavier’s feet scraped the dirt, pivoting. He must’ve heard.

Marc took another deep breath. Xavier’s footsteps moved away. More soles scratched the ground, others turning toward the danger. Xavier was getting everyone in position.

A soft crunch of a boot shocked through Marc’s senses.

It wasn’t the cats.

Oh shit.

“Graygual,” Marc mumbled, trying to deaden the sound as much as possible.

“What?” Rachie asked, almost a yell in the silence.

“Should we run?” Marc whispered, his whole body shaking. Anything that could be that quiet through pitch black in the middle of battle had to be excellently trained. They didn’t stand a chance.

“We wouldn’t all make it,” Xavier whispered back. He must’ve come to the same conclusion.

Marc didn’t have the heart to say it.

Sweat dripped down his neck. Another soft crunch, half as close as a moment ago. He or she was still moving in their direction.

Marc swallowed a lump of acid. He really hoped he was wrong and it was S’am. He really, really hoped.

“Run, Marc!” Words like an explosion pierced the night. S’am. She was not in front of them. And her voice was laced with panic.

“Go!” Xavier screamed, shoving Marc with rough hands. “Go!”

Something parted the air close to Marc’s head. A
thud
hit a tree behind him.

A throwing knife.
Shit!

Marc turned and pushed the girl behind him. “Get out of here. Hurry! All of you!”

Soft footfalls pattered against the ground. Fabric swished, barely heard. It was coming right for them.

Adrenaline ignited in Marc’s body. He took out another knife, gripping one in each hand. Not thinking logically, knees bent, he stepped forward to intercept whatever it was that was coming right at them. Xavier was right there with him. The other Honor Guard filed in, their steps blaring in contrast to the stranger in the night.

“Get out of—”

A flare of light cut Xavier off. Bright orange sparked at eye height.

A man dressed all in black with a strip of fabric over half his face was moving toward them at a half-jog, sword held out, moving as lightly as a dancer.

“Oh no—it’s one of them?” Leilius whimpered.

The flare left Maggie’s bow and zipped through the night, the tip of the arrow on fire.

With movements precise and perfect, the man flicked his sword, knocking the arrow out of the way.

Marc’s mouth dropped open.

“I have no
Gift.
”
S’am’s voice was calm yet elevated as she sprinted toward them.

Another flare lit up the area, but this time, Maggie aimed at his feet. Fire licked the grass before spreading out like a hungry thing.

The man danced to the side, his focus on S’am rushing toward him. “Get out of here, boys!” she yelled, slowing as she got within sword-striking range.

Marc had never seen her slow when taking on an enemy.

“What is he?” Marc asked with a quivering voice.

“Death,” Leilius said in a breathy rasp.

The man’s eyes crinkled in the flickering light. Words came out, musical but unintelligible. He spoke to S’am in a friendly tone.

She lunged, her strike precise and elegant. He blocked with an effortless flick of steel. S’am didn’t immediately counterattack, or notice that the Honor Guard hadn’t departed. She stared at the man in front of her as smoke curled around her feet.

She stepped to the left, starting to circle. He stepped diagonally, cutting her off. He brought one hand up and waggled it slowly. His words made no sense.

S’am attacked, her style changed to deliver fast, brutal strikes. Her sword glimmered in the firelight, smashing down, getting blocked, and coming in again at a different angle. Fast and hard, her body worked in perfect symmetry. But for every strike, he had a counter-strike. He wasn’t blocking anymore; he was meeting her attack with one of his own.

His body, moving in a circular style Marc hadn’t seen before, dodged. He feinted, then struck. His sword clattered against hers.

Her attack came immediately, her steps beautiful yet deadly. He matched each movement, then counterattacked, his sword narrowly missing her. She lunged, her point snagging his shirt but missing flesh.

They were two masters in the fight of their lives.

“Shoot him!” Xavier yelled at Maggie. “Help her!”

“They’re moving too fast. I might hit her!”

A sleek black shape skirted the fire, followed by a feline cry that could only be described as frustrated. S’am and the man stepped through and jumped over the growing flames, swords still moving in that incredible dance.

“Should we charge?” Marc heard himself ask. He licked numb lips. Quivers from his body made his teeth chatter.

“You’ll distract her,” Gracas said in a level voice. “We can’t let anything distract her.”

Another black cat joined the first, staying away from the flame. Eyes fixed on the man S’am was fighting.

Feet thumped through the night. Large swinging shoulders and a powerful stride announced the Captain, followed by the lithe movements of Rohnan.

“Over here, sir!” Xavier shouted.

The man danced away from S’am, uttered a few garbled words, and then sprinted into the darkness. The cats launched after him, but before they could reach him, a scream rent the night, followed by a fierce feline snarl. The third cat had been waiting to ambush him as he ran.

Shapes ran forward around Marc, shaking him out of his disbelieving stupor. Women were stamping at the ground, trying to put out the flame.

“Help them,” Xavier said, following suit.

Moving like a man made of sticks, Marc lurched forward, stomping through, thinking about that fight. It didn’t take long for someone else to voice his fears.

“That guy was just as good as S’am,” Gracas said, his customary excitement at all things to do with fighting missing.

“He was one of those guys that guard the Being Supreme,” Leilius said in barely more than a whisper, standing with a rigid body and wide eyes.

“How do you know?” Marc asked as his body succumbed to shaking.

“I remember seeing guys just like him. From the Shadow Lands when I went into the Trespasser Village. It might not have been the Being Supreme, but S’am thought it probably was.”

“They’re the best.” Xavier stomped at the ground more heavily. “And he was here.”

“Are you guys okay?” S’am jogged back into the area with Rohnan on her heels. One of the cats kept pace at her side. Wetness glistened around its mouth and down its throat.

“Did you get him?” Xavier asked, panting.

“The cats did.” S’am glanced down at the dying flame. Her gaze then scanned the line. “Everyone accounted for?”

Xavier and Maggie both checked faces as Marc watched S’am. While her body moved just as fluidly as normal, there was a tightness in her shoulders, which always meant concern. Then there was Rohnan, who wore his worries on his face for the world to see.

“What is it?” Marc asked, though he didn’t really want to know. He’d rather curl up under his bed covers and pretend danger didn’t exist.

“They have someone with the same
Gift
as Burson.” S’am put her hands to her hips and glanced down at her feet. “Just one, I suspect, and his or her range doesn’t seem as large. But they have someone. There is no telling how close they’ve come or how much information they’ve gained. They could’ve been checking out Cayan’s city while we were there, for all I know.”

“But they followed us?” Leilius asked in a tight voice. “They are here, which means they didn’t leave anyone behind.”

“Seems like it.” S’am dropped her hands and looked behind her. “We’re sending someone back with a message, anyway. Where the
Gift
is blind, the eyes can still see. The Shadow are familiar with going without their
Gift.
They won’t even balk at the new situation.”

“So we’re still going along as planned?” Maggie asked.

S’am looked at her for a long moment. “Yes, but with more caution. If anything, Xandre has shown his hand. We have a better idea what we’re up against.”

“But the number of people you felt in the city yesterday might not be accurate,” Xavier said.

“That is why we have to be cautious.” S’am glanced behind her again as the Captain stalked into view. His gaze swept those gathered before looking off to the east. S’am turned back. “Get some rest. We’ll have a plan bright and early.”

“But what if there are any more?” Alena asked.

“The beasts are free,” the Captain said, taking a few steps away. “What we can’t feel with the
Gift
we can hear, and what we can’t hear, the animals will find. We’ll sleep close together, as planned, and we’ll be fine.”

It was too dark again to see if the tightness in S’am’s shoulders had relaxed, but judging by the way Rohnan hovered around her, it hadn’t. They weren’t as confident as the Captain sounded. Tomorrow might not go as planned.

S
hanti sat astride her horse
, waiting for the final pieces to fall in place before Cayan gave the signal for all of them to move out.

“Think we’ll run into those warriors from last night?” Sonson asked in a low tone, picking his nail with his knife.

“No,” Shanti said softly as a soft breeze blew from the west and a pale sun was heaving itself up over the horizon. “They had not meant to be seen last night. Cayan’s man spotted him. Shadow and Shumas did not.”

“So you think the enemy can only sense those with
Therma
?” Sonson glanced back as Sanders barked orders at the women. Many would be sectioned off as archers with Lucius, Maggie was being promoted, and a couple would join the Honor Guard. “Was Burson like that?”

Shanti shrugged with a shaking head. She didn’t know.

“These Graygual seem prepared to let their own get stomped on.” Sonson put away his knife. He adjusted the sword on his hip. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy last night, whoever he was, lets us kill them all and then follows us out.”

“I wouldn’t, either.” Shanti’s stomach flipped over. “If that’s the case, and we don’t find him, Xandre will know everything we do. It will take away our largest advantage.”

Cayan stalked into their midst with Lucius and Daniels. He stopped next to her and placed a hand on her knee. “Stay safe,
mesasha.
”

She met his gorgeous blue eyes. “You too. Don’t do anything stupid.”

He winked before his eyes hardened again and he turned toward his horse. Shanti patted the Bloody Bastard before stepping into the stirrup and throwing her leg over. As expected, before she could even get her foot in the other stirrup, he was prancing and moving, ready to get running.

“You shouldn’t be riding him yet,” Rohnan warned, climbing onto his much calmer mount.

“Remember what happened yesterday? Now we have two damaged horses.”

Rohnan hefted his staff. “A few bite marks won’t prevent that horse from carrying you, but your horse’s gash might slow him down.”

“Even slow, he’ll still be faster than the other horses.”

“Not mine.”

Shanti rolled her eyes.

At Cayan’s nod and his hacked-up sense of
go
through the overall mental link, Shanti leaned forward slightly. The Bastard pranced sideways. “Don’t make me look a fool in front of everyone, or I will never ride you again.” She softly touched her heels to his sides.

He lurched forward and started at a fast trot. The Shadow kicked their horses into motion directly after, following her out before the army would file in. The Shumas, who were best at mental communication with Shanti, would take up the rear until they could spread out more.

She directed her horse to the track that led down to the city, and noticed the wild growth on each side. If there were regular wagons coming through here bringing large amounts of supplies, wheels would’ve cut lanes and stripped away some of the vegetation. She hoped the absence made them correct in their earlier assessment of how many people were in that city.

She pulled the reins to slow her horse as she reached the crest of the hill. The Shadow tightened up their formation, allowing the army to do the same. Slower than she would’ve liked, she rode over the hill and quickly swept the area with her gaze.

The man at the open gate lounged, just like before. Minds in the city seemed dull, probably going about monotonous tasks. The few women were idle, spread out and in a state of boredom.

The city would not have heard the few cries of pain in the night, and neither would they have been warned. Last night’s small but expertly trained force had a different agenda to the people in this city. Not only that, but they were instructed to keep to themselves and let this contingent of Graygual die and rot on their own.

If that didn’t sound like Xandre, nothing did.

Shanti picked up the pace. Cayan’s power boiled through the merge with high intensity, ready to be unleashed. Her people’s power, tranquil, simmered just below, keeping adrenaline low until the battle began. She’d trained with endurance in mind since youth. She hoped they wouldn’t need it today.

The man at the gate looked in their direction. His body jerked upward, rigid. He ducked through the gate right before a bell started ringing.

Shanti felt the minds, slow to start, but rapidly turning frantic. Chaos bubbled within the walls, and people ran every which way in confusion and fear. A more analytical mind sparked. That had to be the officer.

With no time to lose, Shanti clutched at all the Inkna minds, low in power and mostly useless
.
She lashed out,
striking
with a piercing blow into their brain mass. Two shields went up, a feeble attempt to push her away. A surge of power answered them, Cayan’s
Gift
unfurling from containment with hard, raw force.

Minds near the walls became focused; they were probably nocking arrows and getting ready to shoot. Shanti
slashed
, taking them down as she drew closer. She threw her leg over the saddle and jumped, knowing her people would do better on foot. Hard ground punched her as she hit and rolled, bouncing up a moment later. Rohnan joined her, running. The rest fell in behind.

She took the gate at a sprint and
gouged
the minds waiting in the entryway. Their screaming greeted her as she barged through. Their bodies crumpled to the ground.

The city opened up into a dirty courtyard with grime covering the cracked and broken cobblestone. A haphazard gathering of men hastened to form a line, some only half dressed. Shanti sprinted into their number, stabbing one through the gut before any of them had even raised a blade. Rohnan’s staff slashed a chest and Kallon’s sword took out another.

Shanti flicked away a weak thrust before running the man through with her sword. She grabbed the front of his shirt and ripped him away as he died. Charging forward, she unlocked their
Gifts
from hers, still connected for communication, but now with everyone acting independently. Like arrows firing, the
Warring Gifts
unleashed,
striking
and
cutting
minds as they fought through. When the line was dead, they caught up to her, jogging through the city.

Dirt and grime covered walls. Weeds grew between the cracks. Garbage littered the ground. Shanti felt a group of men coming her way. She ignored the female in the house to the left, and kept her eyes moving.

A man in a wrinkled black uniform with a single slash at the breast turned the corner up ahead. Two more joined him of the same rank. Shanti hefted a knife and threw, sticking it in his chest. Another appeared in the man beside him, dropping the Graygual to his knees. Rohnan reached the third with his staff and cut through the vulnerable neck. The man had barely struck out with his sword before he was sinking into a puddle of death.

“I see no signs of a large host,” Kallon said above the din. A man ran at him from a side alley. He turned and thrust his sword through the Graygual’s gut with quick economy. The man issued a high-pitched scream and fell away.

“No. They must be here to keep the city occupied.” Shanti
struck
someone running to meet them. A shrill scream echoed against the walls.

More screams erupted behind them, a group of Graygual trying to run at their backs, but the Shumas didn’t even turn to take them out.

Shanti felt Cayan’s frustration and Sanders’ boredom. They worked toward the northwest, the largest populated area.

Shanti turned a corner. A black back was running away from them, his sword nowhere to be seen. His back arched as he screamed before tumbling to the ground.

“Their minds are weak,” Kallon said.

“They don’t have the
Gift.
How would they block you?” Shanti turned left, confused by the strange layout of streets within the city. She felt minds running toward them, and some running in Cayan’s direction, all originating from the same area. Shanti and Cayan’s target area.

She turned left again then slowed to a stop, scowling at a house that closed off the street. “Were they drunk when they laid out this town?” She went back in the other direction and attempted to work her way around.

“Where townspeople?” Sayas asked from behind them.

“Those that survived the attack on Cayan’s city obviously didn’t survive the Graygual attack. Or they left.” Shanti tried a left turn again, sighing in relief when the street was mostly straight, leading to a large, square building. In front of double doors stood a line of Graygual with straight backs and sloppy poses.

She shook her head. “These aren’t army. What’s the point of them?”

Kallon sheathed his sword and unslung his bow from his back. “They are a good thing to toss at the enemy in order to see what he does.” He yanked an arrow from his back and nocked it in a smooth movement. A moment later the arrow struck a Graygual in the chest. Another arrow flew, Sayas following suit. Mela was right after. Bodies fell, leaving gaping holes in front of the building.

“Stop!” Cayan’s horse clattered through the grimy street, followed closely by Sonson.

The line in front of the building started to wobble. Graygual huddled close together, and then drifted apart again, the desire to run so strong a few had dropped their swords in anticipation. But there was nowhere for them to go.

“Where do you hail from?” Cayan asked, holding his palm up to the archers.

The lead Graygual stared up at Cayan with wide, terrified eyes. “Further north, sir.”

“What happened to the Mugdock that occupied this land?”

The Graygual shook his head a fraction and glanced to the side. The next man shrugged while the others continued to stare with blank looks. Their minds were equally as empty. Xandre wasn’t risking any sharp army men in this endeavor.

“How long have you been here?” Shanti tried, stepped closer.

The lead man’s fearful gaze swung her way. “J-just a couple months. Oh—you’re the violet-eyed girl!”

A flash of opportunity flared from the man on the end. His sword swung upward as he lunged forward. Shanti threw up her weapon to block. The blow never landed. A blast of power so ferocious that Shanti staggered backward crashed into the man. He barely had time to shriek before his limp body tumbled to the ground. Next to him, caught in the line of fire, the others screamed and clutched at their chests before sinking to their knees.

“Cayan! You have to choose who you affect with the power—you can’t just blast everyone in the way!” Shanti shook herself out, and then smiled as Kallon bent to rest his hands on his knees. She pounded him on the back. “And just think, you have yet to carry out the challenge.”

“
He would benefit from some training
,” Sayas said with a white face.

Shanti started forward as Cayan jumped down from his horse. She stepped around the fallen bodies. “Usually I am his control, but…well, he reacts faster than he thinks, sometimes.”

“Remind me to stay behind him in a fight.”
Sayas rubbed his chest.
“His power feels strange.”

“I am interested to see what he can do when let off the leash,”
Mela said.

“Has this city always been so dirty?” Shanti asked Cayan as she pushed her
Gift
behind the thick double doors. She ran her hand along the peeling paint and watched white flakes flutter to the ground.

“I have always heard it was, yes.” Cayan turned back to those still on their horses. “Dismount. There are about a dozen in here that we know of.”

“Were the Mugdock evacuated before this lot was moved in, or did they leave of their own accord after the battle…” Shanti sheathed her sword and took out two throwing knives. Fear and apprehension rolled and spiraled inside the room. Unease drifted from those behind her.

“Or did they join the army and forsake the women?” Cayan bristled. “They weren’t an honorable people.”

“Some of them might have been, but the loudest voices are the ones people hear most often.” Shanti took a deep breath. “There is no way Xandre is in this room. Nor his prized inner circle. There is zero chance, but…” She licked her lips and squeezed the handles of her throwing knives. “If he is, he is protected from the
Gift
and will have half a dozen excellent fighters surrounding him. Maybe we should wait for Sanders.”

Cayan surveyed the Shumas waiting patiently behind them, their limbs loose and shoulders relaxed. Shanti knew he could feel their turmoil through the merge, even if he couldn’t see the fire burning brightly in their eyes.

“Sanders would pale in comparison to what we’ll be taking in there with us,” Cayan said with absolute conviction.

Kallon straightened a little. The movement was small, but spoke volumes. He approved of Cayan’s validation.

“Enough stalling,” Shanti said to herself. She stepped back, giving Cayan room. With a show of might, his foot smashed the door by the handle at the same time as his
Gift
surged out, flooding the room beyond. The door broke with a series of splintered
cracks.
The top hinge ripped from the wood.

Cayan shouldered through, with Shanti following close behind. The room opened up around her. Shapes hunkered to the ground at the other end, cringing from the pain Cayan was still pumping into them. A quick sweep of her gaze told her what she’d hoped and feared at the same time—no one else occupied this room.

She let a breath tumble out of her mouth as Rohnan and Mela ran in a moment later, bows in hand. Sayas and Kallon were right behind them with throwing knives.

Cayan’s
Gift
withered away as his battle zeal quieted. He walked toward the enemy with sure steps, alert in case anyone should jump out of a cupboard or from behind the sagging couches. The men on the ground unfurled like flowers in spring and staggered upward. The first to recover looked around with dazed eyes. Then he burst into action. He jumped forward with sword outstretched, hacking toward Cayan with barely trained gusto. Cayan knocked the blade to the side and struck, piercing the man in the gut. Another man jumped up and charged. An arrow stabbed him like a pincushion. He faltered and lost the strength in his legs before tumbling to the ground.