The Rashad were faster than the
horses, but they deliberately kept in line with the cavalry. Somewhere behind
them, Me’shan gave the order for the archers to release, and a volley of arrows
came down on the first few lines of mercenaries.
Adesina gave a fierce battle cry,
and her voice was joined by the other L’avan of the cavalry and the roar of the
Rashad.
The attack from the Seharan archers
caused the first wave of mercenaries to falter, and Adesina’s force drove into
them with a deafening clash of weapons and armor.
Some of the mercenaries had pikes
and tried to use them to impale Adesina, but she knocked them aside with a brush
of her
vyala
. One of the Shimat turned his horse and rode toward her,
raising his own Blood Sword to meet hers.
Another explosion shook the air,
and every soldier on both sides seemed to flinch. Adesina’s gaze flicked back
to the hill that overlooked the battle, where Ruon and Sitara stood to fend off
Cha-sak’s attacks.
Adesina had no more attention to
spare. The Shimat bore down on her with a vicious swing of his sword. She was
barely able to defend herself as the Shimat bore down on her, showing the skill
that only came from years of experience.
Adesina used her
vyala
to
harden her skin, but it still stung when a blow got past her defenses. She
magically increased her agility, which helped her to compensate for her
opponent’s greater experience.
Adesina blocked and parried, moving
her sword with skill and grace, but she was not able to make an attack of her
own. She waited patiently for an opening, which came with the next unexpected
explosion from above their heads.
The Shimat’s horse shied from the
direction of the noise, throwing its rider off balance. Adesina flicked her
blade forward, cutting deep into the Shimat’s shoulder. The man bit back a cry
of pain and shifted his sword to his other hand to continue fighting.
The delay caused by that movement
cost him his life.
Adesina did not wait for him to
adjust his handhold. She urged Torith forward and brought her sword down on her
enemy with all the force of her magically enhanced arms.
The Shimat dropped to the ground
and moved no more.
Adesina immediately turned to
assess the position of the cavalry and Rashad force. The plan had been for them
to strike first and then withdraw to make room for the infantry. She could see
the foot soldiers were already moving into place, and she called out her next
orders.
“Cavalry and Rashad withdraw.”
Me’shan could be seen at the head
of the army as they charged forward to meet the enemy. Adesina felt her heart
swell with pride as she witnessed her father’s skillful leadership in the midst
of battle.
She was about to regroup with her
attack force when a strange mix of emotions leaked through her Joining with
Ravi.
Was it apprehension? Was it battle
fury? Was it desperation?
Adesina turned Torith and kicked
him into a gallop, heading for where Ravi was fighting.
He was not far from Adesina—he
never was—but the chaos of the fighting made reaching him difficult. When Ravi
came into view, Adesina immediately understood the confusing mix of emotions.
Ravi was surrounded by mercenaries
with pikes, who were lashing out at him. He was being wounded and harried on
all sides. He roared and swung at his enemies, causing them to back up.
However, every time he turned to face some of the soldiers, the ones behind him
moved in to attack.
Adesina jumped off Torith’s back,
striking down the first soldier as she landed on the ground. She moved like a
whirlwind, swinging her sword with deadly accuracy. By the time the mercenaries
had gathered themselves enough to fight back, she had decreased their numbers
by half.
Ravi did not pause, but latched his
powerful jaws around the leg of the nearest enemy. A sickening crunch followed,
and the man screamed in agony. Ravi spared the man’s life, and moved on to
incapacitate the next soldier.
Soon, Ravi’s attackers were all
either dead or unable to stand, let alone fight.
The large black feline turned to
Adesina. “Are you hurt, Ma’eve?”
She shook her head. “No, but you
are.”
Adesina sheathed her sword and
knelt beside her guardian, placing both hands in his thick fur. She closed her
eyes and let her
vyala
wash over Ravi, healing all of the wounds he had
received.
She then took a deep breath,
focusing on taking in energy, courage, and determination. The technique Ruon
had taught her worked, and she felt her body rejuvenate as if she had had a
long rest.
Ravi, who had been about to
reprimand her for wasting her
vyala
in healing him, shut his mouth and
stared at her in amazement.
“How did you do that?”
Adesina’s smile was a bit smug.
“Ruon taught me.”
She could tell through their
Joining that he had many other questions, but he didn’t have a chance to voice
any of them. The air shook with another clash of Sitara and Cha-sak’s powers,
and the noise of battle reasserted itself on their minds.
The two friends stood, and Adesina
drew Falcon once more. Together they rushed forward to rejoin the fight.
The roar of battle was almost
deafening to those who were not accustomed to it. For the former apothecary of
the High City, it was a terrifying experience. There was a small respite from
the fighting where she stood, but that did not make the battle seem any less
chaotic.
Faryl stayed close by Than’os’s
side as he paused from fighting to take a breath.
She had never been trained as a
Shimat, even though she had been raised in their fortress. She had been a
breeding experiment conducted by Breyen, the Sharifal’s second-in-command, and
then later she had become an enslaved alchemist. Faryl had never been
considered of any worth because she had not inherited her mother’s L’avan abilities.
Her father—if he could be called that—had discarded her as soon as it became
clear that she could not wield magic.
Faryl gripped the handle of her
short sword and maintained her defensive stance. She looked up at Than’os,
taking in his sharp features and pinched look of concentration. When she had
first met him she had not thought him a handsome man. During their journey in
Zonne, his face had been badly burned, leaving him scarred. But now she did not
see the scars or harsh lines of his face. She only saw the man that she loved
more than anything else in the world. Perhaps her blindness to his defects was
because she saw reflected in him the adoration that she knew shone in her own
eyes.
Than’os had taught her how to
defend herself so he could take her into battle without worrying for her
safety. He believed her capable of anything, and it was rather baffling for
Faryl to experience such confidence.
Even now, in the midst of battle,
Faryl could see a desperate, loving sort of protectiveness when he looked at
her. Almost as if preserving her life was more important to him than anything
else.
Faryl was doing her best to keep
away from the fighting. She and Than’os were on the far edge of the battle,
which made it easier to keep out of the fray. Than’os had received orders to
position his band of new recruits on the far end of the western flank and keep
the Shimat forces from moving into a position where they could surround the
L’avan and Seharan army. The order had been delivered to Than’os by a lithe Rashad
named Rissa, who ran back and forth from the command tent.
Faryl had joined the band of
soldiers because she had trained as a medic and would be able to save soldiers
who might otherwise have died before they could be taken back to the camp to be
healed.
Also, she couldn’t bear to be apart
from Than’os when he was in danger.
Than’os had lost his hand in Zonne,
and he was not the swordsman he used to be. Even so, he was no less of a
soldier. He rallied his inexperienced young soldiers, raising his mace as he
charged toward the enemy.
A movement to the right caught
Faryl’s eye, and she turned in time to see a dark form slipping into a copse of
trees. Than’os had just dispatched his current opponent, and so Faryl placed a
hand on his arm to get his attention.
She pointed. “Someone is over
there.”
Than’os frowned, which contorted his
scars and made his sharp features seem even more fierce. “Let us go see.”
They moved quickly and quietly to
the trees. Faryl saw the telltale glow of Than’os’s eyes and knew that he was
using his
vyala
to scan the area. His eyes could see more than hers, so
when a Shimat warrior dropped down from the branches of a tree, Than’os was
ready. He lifted his mace to ward off the blow aimed at his head.
The Shimat landed gracefully, but
did not renew his attack. His face wasn’t covered, and when he turned to face
them Faryl gasped.
It was Breyen.
The last time Faryl had seen her
father had been on the day she had traded her freedom for the life of her
cellmate. At least, that is what she had been led to believe had happened.
Breyen had manipulated her into thinking that her cellmate would be killed
unless Faryl did everything the Shimat wanted. In reality, her cellmate had
already escaped while Faryl was being held in a different room.
Faryl had spent the following five
years living in a squalid basement and working as an alchemist for the
organization she hated more than anything in the world, all for nothing.
Breyen had done that to her.
Breyen was the source of every
unhappiness in her life.
“Well, well,” the Shimat leader
sneered, “it seems that my little experiment has found a new master.”
“Breyen, what are you doing here?”
managed Faryl. She was so shocked by her father’s sudden appearance that she
could hardly speak.
“Leaving,” he replied. “The mighty
Cha-sak should be distracted enough by the battle that he will not notice my
absence until I am safely away. Soon, I hope, I will be completely hidden from
his sight.”
Faryl was shocked by Breyen’s
candidness. She wondered why he would tell them something like this, but then
she realized that he was only being honest because it worked in his favor. He
most likely assumed they would let him escape in order to give their soldiers a
better chance at defeating Cha-sak. The L’avan and Seharan armies would stand a
better chance without a strategic genius like Breyen leading the Shimat army.
“It is not possible to hide from
Cha-sak. He is a demon of great power,” stated Than’os doubtfully. Faryl had
told Than’os about her history and had spoken of Breyen. Now Than’os was
watching her carefully and seemed to be gauging her reactions so that he could
match them.
“Thanks to my little alchemist
there,” Breyen said, nodding toward Faryl, “I have some valuable items that
might make it possible.”
Faryl felt her face warm with
shame. It was her work alone that had transformed L’avan blood into magical
items for the Shimat. She had succeeded where all of their scientists had
failed. There had been only five items that she had created, but all of them
had been powerful—a healing salve, the potion that had put L’iam under Basha’s
control, a pendant that hid the wearer from magical detection, a brooch that
reduced the weight of whatever it was pinned to, and a circlet that made the
wearer all but invisible.
Faryl had dreamed of the beautiful
potential of her creations as she had made them, pretending that they would
serve some noble purpose even though she knew that they could only be used for
evil in the hands of the Shimat. She had hoped each of her creations would find
its way into the possession of better people, like the salve she had given to
Adesina all those years ago. Yet Breyen had one of them hidden away—the
pendant, based on what he had said about hiding from Cha-sak. And Faryl’s hope
and hard work would help the man she hated most escape to a life of freedom.
Faryl felt the warmth within her
begin to grow. The shame she had felt over her part in the wrongdoings of the
Shimat began to change into something else.
Anger.
Breyen had used her entire life for
his personal gain. He had hurt her and manipulated her and abused her and
belittled her. He had convinced her that she had no real value, only the
purpose that he gave to her.
He was wrong.
Faryl knew it more deeply now than
she ever had before.
Breyen was wrong.
Faryl turned her vivid green eyes
to Than’os and a silent understanding passed between them.
While in the desert of Zonne they
had learned how to work together to accomplish certain tasks, jointly sharing
the
vyala
that belonged to Than’os. Since then, they had developed the
skill and expanded their joint abilities.
Than’os summoned his
vyala
and passed control over to her. Doing so left him defenseless, but it allowed
Faryl to wield the power herself instead of simply directing its flow.
Her eyes glowed as she took
control, and she faced Breyen with a terrible expression on her face. “No,” she
said in a tone of finality.
Breyen’s brow furrowed. “No? What
do you mean,
no
?”
“I am not going to let you slip away
to start a new life,” Faryl declared. “You do not deserve to be free of
Cha-sak. He is a noose of your own making, and I swear you shall be hanged by
it.”
Breyen laughed in scorn. “Do you
think you can possibly stop me?”
“Yes,” said Faryl, pointing to the
ground at his feet, “I do.”
The earth erupted under Breyen’s
boots, causing him to fly backward and land on his back. He stayed on the
ground for several moments, staring at her in shock.
“How…is that possible?” he gasped.
Faryl walked toward him, her anger
growing cold with a sense of vengeance. “My mother was L’avan. Her blood runs
through my veins.”
That was all the explanation she
gave him.
She brought several strands of dark
red
vyala
together, mixing them as she would a poultice. Her arms made
the motions in the air because she had not yet learned how to wield
vyala
without doing so.
Breyen jumped to his feet, still
moving with a catlike grace in spite of his years. He moved to get out of her
line of sight, but Faryl had already released the bolt of power. The two trees
nearest to him bended and warped, almost knocking him off his feet again. He
did a quick back flip to get out the path of danger.
“Hardly a killing blow,” Breyen
commented in a voice of reprimand. “Did your years among the Shimat teach you
nothing?”
“I was never a Shimat,” spat Faryl.
“I was a slave.”
“And yet the blood of a Shimat runs
through you just as surely as the blood of the L’avan,” Breyen reminded her.
“You seem eager enough to claim the blood of your mother.”
Faryl released another burst of
vyala
,
and the ground heaved upward once more. “I am just as eager to disown the blood
of my father.”
Breyen dodged the flying rocks and
clods of dirt. He brushed off his clothing with an expression of disdain. “Your
lack of commitment is tiresome. If you wish to kill me, then
do it
.”
“Death is too good for you,”
retorted Faryl. “Perhaps I should leave you for Cha-sak to find.”
The nearby trees twisted around
Breyen, forming a wooden cage. The Shimat leapt through a gap in the trunks
before they closed. For the first time in the encounter, Breyen looked
frightened. His face paled at the mention of Cha-sak’s name.
“Do the L’avan not tout mercy?”
asked Breyen in a voice filled with forced calm. “It would be better for all if
you simply let me leave. In the service of Cha-sak I will only be a threat to
your people.”
Faryl gave a harsh laugh. “Oh, I do
not think Cha-sak would return a deserter to his service. Also, as you pointed
out, I am not a full L’avan.”
Breyen grew even paler and his eyes
darted as they searched for an opening to escape through. “You would not…”
“You have underestimated me
before,” Faryl said. “I do not think you should make assumptions.”
She fed a thick thread of
vyala
into a nearby tree, causing it to explode outward. The splintered wood flew
through the air, cutting Breyen’s skin in dozens of places and embedding a
large chunk in his side.
Breyen didn’t cry out, but his eyes
narrowed in pain as he pulled the bloodied piece of wood. He pressed a hand
over the wound.
“You may be right,” he conceded,
“but there is something of equal importance that you must remember.”
A chill of apprehension crept up
Faryl’s spine. “What is that?”
Breyen smiled coldly. “You do not
know me either.”
His left hand whipped out from
behind his back, sending a knife hurling toward Than’os.
Faryl cried out in alarm, and she
automatically send a wave of
vyala
to try and knock it off course.
Instead of the blade striking Than’os in the heart—as it would have if Faryl
hadn’t interfered—it buried itself in his stomach.
She felt her connection to
Than’os’s
vyala
slip away, and her heart raced at what that implied. She
hurried to Than’os, knowing that Breyen would escape. Knowing that she could do
nothing to stop him.
The man she loved was lying on the
ground, his face a ghostly hue. The man she hated most was free.
She dropped to her knees beside
Than’os, reaching into the pouches tied to her waist and pulling out her
collection of herbs and essences.
“Than’os,” she called gently, “can
you hear me?”
He opened his eyes with a slightly
dazed expression. “Did Breyen get away?”
Faryl bit her lip and nodded,
trying to hold back the tears that were forming. She didn’t trust herself to
speak without her frustration and regret choking her words.
Than’os frowned. “We must go after
him…” he trailed off.
Faryl shook her head. “Do not worry
about it, dearest. It does not matter.”
“It does,” insisted Than’os. He
started to rise and then cried out in pain, falling back to the ground.
“Do not move,” Faryl commanded
sharply. Her instincts as a healer asserted themselves, and she found herself
forcing all other thoughts and emotions aside. “You will not be able to do
anything if you die today.”
“We will find him,” promised
Than’os, but he didn’t try to move anymore.
Faryl began mixing herbs furiously,
muttering angrily to herself. She very carefully removed the knife and pressed
one hand down on his stomach to try and slow the bleeding. With her other hand,
she applied a heavy layer of the poultice to one of the bandages in her pouch
and then placed it over the wound. Then she wrapped the whole thing tightly,
whispering a prayer as she did so.
“We need to get you back to the
camp,” she said to Than’os, keeping her tone level. “The Healers will be able
to help you more than I can.”
Than’os didn’t answer or indicate
that he had even heard her.