by Frost Kay
No one moved. No one spoke. So be it.
Sweat dampened Tehl’s palms as they crept closer to the huge catapult, fire raging across the dry meadow grasses. The beat of the Scythian war drums echoed in his ears, along with his racing pulse. With each step, they got closer to the ballista, and he expected a swarm of warriors to attack them. He searched the darkening night for any hint of threats. Tehl paused when a low shriek filled the air.
His eyes widened. “Arrows!”
The soldiers lifted their shields, once again creating a barrier from the threat in the sky. Tehl hefted his shield closer to his chest and clenched his right fingers tighter around his spear as they waited out the fall of armor piercing projectiles.
“Do you think they saw us?” a soldier grunted from behind as the barrage continued.
“No,” Raziel muttered. “If they knew we were here, we’d be dead already.”
Gav snickered, and Tehl shot an annoyed glance at him over his right shoulder.
His cousin sneered at him and held up his hands. “You know I can’t help it.”
Gav had always been prone to laughing when things got tense or awkward. It seemed, even in war, that hadn’t changed.
The smoke cleared, just for a moment. Tehl turned back and strained to peer through the deepening evening light to get a clear look at their destination. All sound ceased, and his vision dipped. The warlord stood two hundred paces from the catapult, laughing like a madman as he slashed his way through Aermian soldiers.
Before he knew what he was doing, Tehl sprinted toward the devil.
Four
Jasmine
The bone-jarring screech was what pulled her from her sleep. Jasmine gingerly touched her throbbing temple. Stars, her head hurt. Flashes of her kidnapping ran through her mind. They had drugged her. What else had they done?
She slowly blinked her eyes open and gritted her teeth as another explosion went off, rattling the window to her right and lighting up the curtain and the man currently staring outside.
Orion.
Her stomach bottomed out, and she jerked upright. The room seemed to roll, and Jas placed her left hand down to steady herself. The soft quilt and mattress beneath her palm caused panic to wrap around her chest. They’d placed her on a bed. Her hands shakily ran over her body. Her dress wasn’t disturbed, and her body felt normal, but…nausea slammed into her, and she leaned over the bed to vomit.
Her eyes watered. Feeling fine didn’t mean she was okay.
“Are you all right?” Orion asked, stepping toward her.
Jasmine thrust her hand out to stop him and scrambled backward until her spine met the corner. The leather of her thigh holster rubbed against her inner left leg. Sucking in a deep breath, she tried to calm herself. If they’d touched her, they would have discovered the blades and taken them from her. They’d left her unmolested, and she wasn’t powerless.
Pain rippled across his handsome face, and he held his hands out in a placating manner. “I won’t hurt you.”
Traitorous tears sprang to her eyes. They already had. “Stay away from me,” she whispered harshly.
Thunder rumbled, and a crack of lightning lit up the room, giving her a better sense of where she was. It was a small home with only one door and window. Across the room from where she sat held two chairs, a short table, and a screen which she assumed hid a chamber pot from the rest of the room. Her gaze darted back to the door. Only one escape, and Orion was guarding it.
He stared at her with remorse. “Do you need anything?”
Jasmine fought not to throw up again. He had always been the most caring and sensitive of her warriors. She froze. Not her warriors. Her enemies. Orion didn’t get to care for her. “Where are we?” she croaked.
“Somewhere safe.”
Safe. What a joke. Her arms curled around her belly as Orion dropped the curtain once again. His gaze paused on her bump, and a small smile lit up his face.
“You’re a miracle.” He said it with so much awe and what she refused to acknowledge as love.
Jas swallowed thickly, her throat aching and the cloying scent of the drug still stuck in her nose. “I need to go home.” She scanned the simple room again. The daggers strapped to her thighs practically burned with the need to be used on the Scythian warrior. “Why am I here?”
“You know why,” he whispered, his dark eyes soft. “We came for our family, for you and the babe.”
Rage unlike anything she’d experienced burned through any residual fear she was harboring. Family? “I am nothing to you,” she said coldly. “This babe is mine.” And Sam’s.
Orion winced and rubbed at his brow. “These aren’t the best circumstances, but let me explain to you how much we—”
“No!” Jasmine sliced a hand through the air. “You get to say nothing to me. Let me go. I need to return to my children.”
“They will join us soon.”
Ice ran down her spine. “Excuse me?”
“We would never take you from your children, Jasmine. Mekhl and Phoenix are retrieving them.”
Crippling horror settled over her. No. “Leave them alone! Don’t you dare touch them!”
“We would never hurt you and yours.” He moved back to the window and lifted the curtain, scanning whatever lay outside. “They’ll be well protected.”
Her plan of escape dissipated. There was no way she could leave without knowing if the warriors had Ethan and Jade.
Please, Vienna. Please have escaped. The older woman would take care of her children.
A tear dripped down her cheek. “You can’t keep us. Please let us go.”
“Jasmine,” Orion whispered. “I cannot. You’re breaking my heart.”
“I’m begging you. I’m happy in Aermia. You need to let us go and forget this plan.” She hiccupped and prayed he would falter. “Are you under command?” She edged toward him. “There’s protection for you in Aermia. We can live there.” A lie. “Please, don’t take me back.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” Orion hissed, his gaze searching the room like there was someone listening to the conversation. “Be silent before we all die.”
Jasmine placed her feet on the floor and began to tremble. “If you won’t let me go, I promise I’ll hurt myself and the babe.” The words were a bitter lie on her tongue. She’d never hurt the babe, but he didn’t know that. Orion faced her, his expression blank. “I know what you did,” she choked out. “You know it was wrong.”
He took a hesitant step in her direction. “You don’t know what you’re saying. I read books on breeding women. Your moods get out of control.”
A bitter laugh escaped her, and she pinned him with a hard glare. “Try me. Do you really think I could ever love a child from a monster? A child of rape?” she shouted, shaking. The hateful words weren’t true. She loved her babe without limit already. There was nothing she wouldn’t do. But her words struck the intended chord. Orion looked like he was about to break into a thousand pieces.
“I wish you hadn’t said that,” he murmured, sorrow creeping into his expression.
That was her only warning before he attacked, pinning her to the bed. Jasmine screamed once before he placed a piece of sweet-scented linen over her nose and mouth. She bit his hand. Her struggles slowed, and her eyelids grew heavy, even as she begged her body not to give up the fight.
“I’m sorry,” Orion whispered, his soft brown eyes watching her. “We can’t take a chance of you hurting yourself or the babe. You’re too precious.” He drew a calloused finger softly down her cheek. “Sleep well, love.”
That was the last she heard before darkness washed over her.
Five
Sam
“I don’t care how you do it, but get them out of the city with minimum losses,” the king commanded.
Sam brushed his dirty hair from his face and added, “It’s a ploy to draw our attention from the bay. We can’t allow them to get any closer. Our port is everything.”
> The king nodded to the captains of his fleet. “Dismissed.”
Their men filed out, and Sam ran a hand down his face.
“Son, you look tired. You should get some sleep.”
Sam nodded, not really seeing anything. “It’s just beginning, and I’m exhausted already.” He cast a glance east. “And the sun will rise within the hour.”
His father moved around the makeshift table in their training yard and slapped him on the back. “It will only get harder from here. Go and spend time with your family.”
“My lord?”
Both royals turned to face the Elite striding their way. Xav sketched a short bow before stepping closer. “I have an old woman trying to enter the palace gate.”
“The order has been given that no one but military personnel is to enter,” Sam said slowly.
Xav nodded. “Yes. We’ve followed protocol, but she keeps insisting to see you.”
“Me?” Sam asked, his mind whirling. Was it one of his spies? He’d sent Marilyn out this morning. Did she have news already? If so, why was she coming through the gate? “Take me to her.”
Sam followed the Elite across the training yard and to the heavily-fortified stone wall surrounding the palace. Xav waved a hand at the guard stationed at the entrance. The portcullis rose, and they exited. Sam scanned the darkened streets, his attention landing on a stern-looking older woman speaking heatedly to two soldiers. Her curly gray hair was a fuzzy halo around her wrinkled face. He’d seen her before. A little face peeked around her dirt-streaked skirts, and the world disappeared from beneath him.
Ethan.
Terror rushed through his veins. He launched forward, startling Xav. The older woman met his gaze as he barreled down on the group. Ethan released the woman’s skirts and launched into his arms. Sam clutched the little boy to his chest as Jade followed suit. He dropped to his knees, holding both children to his chest, his heart thundering.
“Mama’s gone,” Jade sobbed.
Sam held them close as the twins cried, their little faces pressed into his shirt. A stillness settled over him as Jade’s words finally registered.
Mama’s gone.
He pinned his icy gaze on the older woman. “Where is she?”
The older woman didn’t flinch. “The apothecary was attacked. We almost made it, but Scythians broke in. Jasmine sent the children with me.”
Their enemy took Jasmine. They took his wife and babe. For a moment, he thought he’d suffocate.
“Papa, you’re crushing me,” Ethan wheezed.
Sam forced himself to loosen his grip on the twins. Time was short. The longer they dallied, the less chance they had to find Jasmine. A hand settled on his shoulder, and he turned to meet his father’s eyes.
The king held his arms out. “Let me take one of them.”
Ethan went easily into his grandad’s arms, and Sam stood, Jade clinging to him.
“You come with me,” Sam barked at the old woman. “I need you to tell me everything you saw. Follow me.”
For the first time in his life, he was on the edge of breaking apart. He wanted to destroy something and kill. Whoever had taken his wife would pay. A dark smile curled his lips.
Blood would spill.
Six
Sage
Sage used to think that bloodstained hands was a metaphorical saying. War had taught her otherwise.
The water turned pink and cooled, but still she scrubbed on, determined to clean the blood from her hands. Her skin ached as she pressed the rough bristles of the crude brush deeper into the grooves of her fingers and palms. Sage hissed when the cuticle of her thumb ripped, and she slammed the brush down, panting heavily. Her chafed fingers flexed against the small table while her gaze locked on the soiled water.
If only it was that easy to wash away pain.
Her conversation with Hayjen had left her feeling dull and out of touch with the world. It was so tempting to sink into the little black box in the back of her mind that offered numbness and shelter from the pain and loss their camp suffered each day.
Soldiers were dragged into camp—some dead, some alive—and, statistically, it was only a matter of time before someone close to her died on the battlefield again. She hung her head as Garreth and Lilja flickered through her mind. Tehl could be dying among the fallen right now—
“Stop it,” she whispered. “He’s all right.”
Sage squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to calm her racing pulse. There was no use borrowing trouble. If that scenario happened, she’d cross that bridge then.
Inhaling deeply, she opened her eyes and straightened, her blurry gaze resting on their unmade bed when she spun around. Crawling in the bed and passing out sounded wonderful, but Sage knew what would happen. Even if she got into bed, sleep wouldn’t come until Tehl arrived. Staring at the ceiling, imagining every peril her husband could be going through, wouldn’t help anyone.
Sage exited their quarters and passed through the war room area of the tent. She paused at the tent flap, and doubled back for her dark green cloak. The times for strolling outside without a fur or wool covering from head to toe were over.
Clasping the cloak around her throat, Sage lifted the hood and slipped through the tent flap. Stars above, it was bloody cold. Winters near the mountains and plains were harsher than she’d ever experienced. An Elite stood to her left, and a Methian warrior to her right—both silent, watchful.
A pang seized her chest. It was at times like this when she missed Garreth the most. He’d been with her since she’d entered the palace. Sage scarcely remembered a time when he wasn’t quietly following her, his footsteps almost silent. Tehl didn’t say much, but she knew he mourned his friend.
“A walk, my lady?” Domin, the Methian soldier, asked softly.
They’d learned her nocturnal habits pretty quickly, although her radius for travel now stayed firmly inside the camp due to a raid that had gotten too close for comfort one week prior.
“No, tonight I seek the infirmary.”
Sage strode forward, this time more aware of her surroundings. Fires scattered throughout the camp, casting warm light against the canvas tents. She smiled and murmured words of encouragement as she weaved her way toward the sick tent. She paused just outside the infirmary, her nose wrinkling at the smell wafting from it.
The place reeked of despair and death.
Puffing out a breath, Sage forced a smile on her face and stepped inside. A wall of heat slammed into her, and sweat beaded on her forehead immediately. She pulled her hood from her head and moved to the first bed on her right. The soldier rolled his bandaged head to the side and smiled, revealing his missing teeth. Reslin.
“Back so soon, Princess?” Reslin asked and gestured with his burned stump of an arm.
“With company like yours, how could I keep away?” she joked, all the while feeling like she was going to throw up. It wasn’t the injuries that bothered her non-existent sensibilities, but the fact that she couldn’t fix them, she couldn’t take away their pain, that they’d suffer for years after the war ended. Her smile waned, and she jerked her chin toward his arm. “How are you doing, really?”
Reslin teetered his head back and forth. “The pain is gruesome, but I’m one of the lucky ones.” His expression cooled. “I couldn’t keep count of how many they brought in today, but I know six were taken out.”
Sage nodded, her heart turning to lead. Six more dead. Mira was probably destroyed. “How is Mira?”
Reslin shook his head. “She’s pale, and I haven’t seen her eat all day.”
“Thank you.”
Sage smiled at him one last time and scanned the gigantic tent for Mira. She caught a glimpse of the healer sponging the forehead of a Methian warrior. There wasn’t any way Sage would be prying her away for a meal anytime soon.
“Will you have someone bring some bread, cheese, and wine in?” she whispered discreetly to the Elite on her left. He nodded and ducked out of the tent.
Sa
ge continued down the line of beds, speaking with every soldier. She halted next to the last bed and scowled at its occupant.
Blaise.
The Scythian woman scowled back at her and leaned against the tent wall. “Don’t give me that look.”
“I’m allowed to glare at you if I want to. You should be resting.” Sage waved a hand at the pile of weapons resting in the center of the cot.
“I am resting. You don’t see me walking about.” Blaise stabbed her blade at the cot. “Sit.”
Sage rolled her eyes and sat, mindful of her friend’s leg, and picked up a stone and blade. The Methian warrior took his place near her side. She flicked a glance in his direction and watched as he scanned the room for threats. Sage turned back to sharpening the blade and both women fell into a comfortable silence, the slick sound of metal being sharpened.
“You need to prepare yourself,” Blaise said in a low voice.
Sage paused and glanced at her friend. “For what?”
The woman held her gaze. “For the next phase.”
“We’re prepared as much as we possibly can be.”
“When’s the last time you saw him?”
There wasn’t any doubt who the him referred to. Sage wet the blade in the bucket near her feet and started working the blade over the stone once again. “It’s been a while.”
“He’s planning something.”
She scoffed. “He’s always planning something. He’s always three steps ahead of us.”
“He’s had centuries to plan this.”
Sage shivered at the reminder of what kind of creature they were facing. “We’ll handle whatever he throws at us.” Little blue toes flashed through her mind, and her jaw set. “He’s tried to break us before.”
Blaise readjusted her leg and rubbed at her knee, her brow furrowed.
Sage watched her then asked, “How is it healing?”
Her friend shrugged. “It’s almost there. I’ll be able to go into battle on the morrow, I should think.”