by DJ Cooper
She stepped toward him, fists clenched by her side as tears stood in her eyes. She was a job to him, nothing more! She ignored the swift stab of pain that bore into her heart. She jumped back when Creed exploded up off of the floor and grabbed her.
“Is that what you think? That you are nothing more than a job to me?” he roared. His hands dug into her arms and she winced at the pain. Wide-eyed she glared at him. He swiftly bent his head as he pulled her roughly toward him and ravaged her with a punishing kiss. Angrily, she struggled against him, until she didn’t. She melted as he gentled his mouth on hers. Once done he lifted his face and gazed into her eyes and there, she saw the agony of worry flickering like a shadow.
“I can’t, I can’t lose you,” he murmured and kissed her again, this time so gentle it damn near knocked her off her feet and sent her head spinning wildly. Her heart raced as her arms closed around his neck. Lifting her face she nodded. “You won’t, you won’t lose me, but I won’t run away this time Creed, I can’t run away this time. This is my fight too,” she murmured.
His eyes hardened with fear but he nodded. “Okay, I guess you are right, I can’t tell you what to do, but damn it Zyla, please listen to me. Follow my lead and don’t get yourself killed, okay?” he pleaded.
Zyla smiled. “Oh, I won’t,” she replied, “we’ve got too much ahead of us for that,” she finished then grinned.
Creed placed his clothes on the bed and turned to Zyla. A sheepish grin spread across his face. “Can you step out a moment so I can get dressed?” he chuckled.
Zyla’s face flush with warmth. “Yes, I’ve got to go speak with Ecker anyway,” she replied.
She saw him frown and shook her head. “He saved our lives Creed, why do you not like him?” she asked.
Creed shook his head. It wasn’t that he liked him or didn’t like him, it was the way he saw the man looking at Zyla. The way he saw his eyes following her every time she moved. Could she be that naive that she didn’t notice his obvious attraction to her? “I owe him so much Zyla, as you said, he saved our lives, but, I still don’t trust him,” he murmured.
Zyla nodded. “He’s trustworthy, just give him a chance, okay?” she pleaded.
Creed nodded. He would give him a chance, but that didn’t mean he would ever trust the man.
Old Man moved quickly. There was so much to do. He glanced at Roswald and shook his head. “So, let me understand this, three contingencies are spreading out, setting up an ambush?” he asked. He liked the idea, a lot. Strike first, strike hard, and perhaps hurt them enough to turn them back long before they reached the village.
Roswald nodded in reply. “Yes, I’ve sent runners to bring in the resistance fighters, but that will take days to gather them and get here. We’ll have the aid of the Keepers of the Light and of the few soldiers Bevin is bringing with him. So we’ll have to use our resources wisely. If I can coordinate three separate contingencies, all striking at the same time, we might be able to bottleneck the enemy,” Roswald explained.
Old Man nodded, his eyes glistening with the fire of battle. “Good plan,” he replied, spreading a map of the area on the table in front of him then sitting on a chair.
Excitement radiated off of him and he smiled. God if only he was younger, he’d show those Honor Guard puppies just what a real soldier was capable of. He clenched his fist to keep his hands from shaking. Taking a deep breath to steady his hands, he unclenched his fingers and pointed to three locations that would bring the Honor Guard into a point of no return. On one side of them were the high rocky walls of what the villagers called, Breakman's Peak, then on the other side was nothing but scraggly harsh terrain that led to endless miles of deep craggy canyons. At the final point, they would be faced with one opposing army, where they would, if everything went as planned, be able to turn the enemy back before they ever reached the village. Old Man smiled and reached over the table, clasping his hand on Roswald’s shoulder. He squeezed it gently.
“What’s wrong, son?” he asked. He could sense an aura of tension in his longtime friend.
“The kids, Kael and Zyla,” Roswald replied, “They are both insisting on staying to fight. I’m just not sure either are ready for this.”
He shook his head wearily. He’d been up since before dawn and running on overdrive. It was catching up with him fast.
Old Man nodded, then grimaced. “Are any of us ready? Even the trained soldiers of their village have had peace for many years, their skills might be honed to razor-like sharpness but knowing the skills and performing them in the heat of battle were two different things.”
Roswald nodded as Old Man continued, “They, like our own brothers and sisters, will taste the sour bitterness of war, it can’t be helped. We can only pray the training will be enough. I know the two are young, they haven’t had the training our soldiers have had, but they have as much at stake in this war as we do,” Old Man replied.
Roswald again nodded. The old man was right. He couldn’t worry about Kael and Zyla. Sighing tiredly, he stood. “Okay, so I’m going to go and check to see if our scouts have come back with any news. I sure would like to know how soon we can expect the attack so we can head it off if possible,” he said.
He’d sent out several scouts to try and locate the position of the Honor Guard and how much time they had to prepare. Although they may not be back yet, he wanted to check in with the preparations.
“You go ahead,” the old man said. “I’ve got a few things left to do and then I’ll meet you later,” he replied, getting up, grabbing the map on the table, and folding it. He watched as Roswald made his way to the front door and then out onto the porch. A heavy sigh filled his chest as he thought of all the villagers he was uprooting because of this threat and it made him angry. They had to keep the Honor Guard away from the village. Plain and simple.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bevin arched his aching back and looked at the tired faces of the women and children. He’d pushed them relentlessly all day, marching under the hot sun, fighting the gnats and black flies, with only short, infrequent breaks. He hated himself for putting these people through this, but what choice did he have?
The Honor Guard wasn’t far behind. He knew it. His forward scouts were watching them as they traveled the roads just east and about five hours behind where he and his group were. When one of his men reported back, informing him of a large, thousand-man army, Bevin’s heart sank. It would be a slaughter. He didn’t even know if the village was prepared to fight a battle against such a large force.
Part of him thought of taking his men and the warriors and pushing through the night. If they could make a stand outside of the village, they might be able to hold them off, or at least put a dent in the numbers. Shaking his head, he glanced over at Millicent who was sitting tiredly with a group of women. A perfect life would have included exploring his feelings for her, taking his time to court her, and seeing where it would lead them. But this was not to be a perfect life. Chances were that either of them could be killed in the battle they would soon be facing. This thought made his heart ache with longing. It had been many years since he’d even thought of a relationship and love. He saw her glance back at him and smile. With a heavy sigh, he motioned to one of his men.
“Let’s camp here for the night, these folks are done-in,” he muttered. The young man nodded and began to shout orders to the other soldiers. It was going to be a thin window to see who made it to the village first.
Darkness danced with shadows from the small campfire. Bevin sat with his group, discussing the situation they were facing. Odors of cooking food wafted to his nose from several other campfires in the group and he knew the women were gathering to start the evening meal. They would feed the kids first, get them ready for bed, then the adults would eat. They all worked together like a well-oiled machine and he couldn’t help but be impressed. As tired as they were, not one complained.
“Let’s count up our rounds,” he said to the men in his group
. Everyone started pulling out their ammunition, taking a count, and shoving it back into the rucksacks. He grimaced when the final count was tallied.
“Shit!” he muttered. All of them were running low. And there was no place to get more.
“Okay men, then we make do,” he said as all eyes turned to him. They all knew that the odds were against them. Bravely they would face the odds without flinching. He glanced up when one of the Keepers of The Light warriors approached him.
“We’ve no firearms but we have plenty of bows, staffs, and knives,” the warrior announced, indicating his men also were thinking of the battle ahead. “We’ve got a proposal if you will hear us out?” the warrior asked. Bevin smiled and motioned for him to have a seat on the ground next to him.
“Yes, we will listen,” he replied. “I am feeling like we are out of options and welcome any thoughts.” He didn’t know this young warrior but the solemn expression on his face told Bevin that he was of a profoundly serious nature. The young warrior bent and sat on the ground beside him. With a deep breath, the man shared with Bevin’s group what the Keepers of the Light Warriors were proposing.
“We are mountain people, and we feel,” he murmured, waving his hand toward his brother and sister warriors, “that it’s to our best advantage if we split off and let you bring our women and children to the village,” he said.
Bevin nodded, waiting for him to continue. “We will do what we do best, and that is to disappear into the landscape and attack from the shadows. It will give our people time to reach safety and we can cut down the numbers of the Honor Guard before they reach the village,” the young warrior said.
Bevin nodded. These warriors, he knew, performed best when they were blending into the surrounding landscape, constantly moving, untethered by expected military tactics. Although they only used crude weapons, they were experts at guerilla warfare. Striking, then retreating and disappearing, only to launch another strike. Bevin thought about the plan. It would leave him and his men with the responsibility of guiding the rest of the group safely to the village. "What if, after the warriors split off, the Honor Guard shifted course and attacked us?” he asked.
The two men talked between themselves for a few moments.
Bevin knew that if he were leading the Honor Guard toward the village that he would have scouts out in the surrounding woods doing recon and felt pretty sure that the commander who was in charge was doing just that and that he knew of Bevin and this group already. It was a tough decision to make and he didn’t take it lightly.
He turned to the young warrior, “So, what is the plan?” he asked.
The young warrior grinned and Bevin felt a coldness seep through his veins. “We will leave right away; the Honor Guard is only five or so hours behind us. We can cover that ground fast as we will travel by darkness. We plan to hit them in the wee hours of dawn, taking their camps and destroying every soldier we can while they sleep,” the warrior replied. "But first we will take women into the tents.” The young warrior grinned.
Bevin looked confused but before he could speak the young man continued, “We will slip out the back and they will wait, some will be wearing our clothing. If we are being watched they won’t notice how many come and go from the tents.
Bevin nodded. “They will have patrols guarding their camps, you know this?” he asked.
The warrior nodded. “Yes, we know this and we will eliminate them quietly,” he replied.
Bevin knew stealth was one of the skills these warriors prided themselves on. He turned to his second in command. “So, what do you say?” he asked.
His second nodded. “I think we really have no choice. These warriors aren’t trained to fight in standard military fashion, they are mountain warriors and I think they should use their skills to that advantage,” his second suggested.
Bevin nodded. He agreed but still wasn’t sure he liked it. Turning his face toward the warrior who sat silently during this exchange, he nodded. “I agree. Your commander agrees with this?” Bevin asked.
The young warrior got up and said, “He will.” Then nodded and ran back to his group and Bevin watched as he animatedly communicated with the commander of his group. It was only a few minutes later that they were ready to leave. Bevin made his way over.
He looked at the group and smiled a strained smile. “May you find great success,” he murmured.
The commander of the group nodded and grimaced. “We shall,” he replied with an air of confidence. The distaste for the mission they were about to take was written in his expression. The sadness shined in his eyes, but Bevin saw a fierce determination there as well. He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension that settled mid-back and groaned. He gazed out over the campsite and shook his head. He would have to push these people harder tomorrow, ask more of them and he honestly didn’t know if they could even give more. Everyone was exhausted.
“You get my people to safety,” the commander said.
Bevin nodded. “I will.” He would do his best.
Dark Night
They moved silently, the darkness enveloped the group like a cloak, and not a breath was heard. The Honor Guard camp slept; the low glow of embers cast a pale arc of light over their haphazardly constructed fire pits. They’d foolishly or arrogantly, the warriors couldn’t decide which, only positioned ten sentries, and the group of warriors had made quick work of silencing them. Everyone knew their position, their task. As if ghosts in the night, each man faded into the darkness. Hands, slicked with the blood of his enemies, the warrior who’d approached Bevin shook at the sound of a shout ringing out across the camp. His breath caught in his throat as men poured from the tents. He glanced down at the dead man atop his sleeping bag and grimaced. With a slash of his knife, he slit the back of the army tent and slipped out, disappearing into the trees. A cold smile touched his lips. It was time to take to the high treetops, time to draw the soldiers away from the camp and into the woods.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Old Man paced. Thoughts tumbled anxiously in his mind, going over the readiness of the men. A soft hand on his shoulder, calming and gentle, stilled his frantic thoughts. Darkness settled outside the front window and he glanced out to see the early dawn before the sky turned the grayish color of the incoming light.
“Eat Old Man, rest. There is nothing to be gained by pacing,” the woman said.
Old Man turned and glanced at the table and the bowl of oatmeal that sat steaming atop of it. He wasn’t hungry but he also didn’t want to suffer the tongue lashing he’d get if he refused to eat. The woman, a neighbor, and longtime friend smiled gently and nudged him toward the table.
“Woman! I can seat myself,” he growled in annoyance and shrugged off her hand. Many of the village women took turns cooking and cleaning for him, not because he’d ever asked them to but because as a tight-knit community they all took care of each other. He was a bachelor and for whatever reason, he couldn’t fathom, the women in the village felt the need to take care of him. Part of him appreciated the attention and care, the other part became annoyed quickly when they would fuss at him. It must’ve been his sour expression or possibly his attitude, he wasn’t sure which, but he glanced up when the woman murmured softly.
“Beauty from the ashes, my friend,” she said.
Old Man nodded. His favorite Bible quote. Yes, no matter what happened, they would find beauty in the ashes of this situation. He had faith. With a sigh, he spooned the first bite of breakfast into his mouth, chewed it slowly and giving thought to the situation at hand. The village was damned near-deserted. Only a few stragglers remained, including the woman sitting opposite him, and they... she... would leave at first light. That settled his anxious heart a bit. The soldiers knew what risks awaited them, they’d trained for this. And with the help of God, they’d hold back the Honor Guard and win. If not, then the village would be lost, but not the people. They would settle and rebuild from the ashes. They would create peace and beauty once again. He only wond
ered if he’d be around to see it.
Bevin
Bevin extinguished the campfire and glanced out over the group. Everyone was ready to move. The children looked sleepily at their mamas. The women, although fatigued, had expressions of resigned determination on their faces. Their menfolk, warriors, were gone once again and this played out through the wistful glances and soft sighs as they gritted themselves for the day ahead. Bevin thought they were a raggedy-looking bunch but underneath he knew each woman had a temperament of fired steel. Giving a wave of his hand, he stepped in line ahead of his men.
“Let’s move out,” he shouted. He turned and smiled tenderly when Millicent fell into step beside him. She slanted her eyes at him and nodded. Although she looked just as fatigued as everyone else, he couldn’t help but notice the spring in her step as she lightly moved over the rough terrain.
“So we should reach the village today? Zone One?” she asked.
Bevin sighed. “We will try. We’ve still got many miles ahead. I’m hoping we’ll make it by tonight, but, with the children in the group, the older folk, I can only push so hard, ya know?” he murmured.
Millicent nodded. “Don’t you worry about pushing us, we are well prepared for this journey, each of us,” she said and waved her hand toward the long line of women and children behind her. “We will do what we need to do,” she replied, an expression of fierce determination on her face. She didn’t want him holding back because of her group. They would keep up.
Bevin nodded. This woman, Millicent, intrigued him. He gazed at her, tenderness reflecting in his eyes. She was at once tough as well as gentle, a strange and oddly alluring combination. Coughing lightly, he turned his eyes ahead, feeling his cheeks redden slightly when he caught her amused grin. Almost as if she were daring him to make the first move. Was she flirting with him? He couldn’t tell. It had been so long since he’d had these feelings for a woman. He shook his head and laughed beneath his breath. He was like a fish trying to climb a tree when he was around her. Tongue-tied and shy, unsure of himself. His mind was filled with thoughts of her when he should be concentrating on other things; such as the Honor Guard that was only a few hours behind them, such as getting this group safely to the Badlands, such as whether or not they would be welcomed there.