by T. A. White
He wasn’t the only one. Pathfinders lined the Keep’s windows using its shelter as cover to shoot the bats down without being picked off themselves.
Fallon and his warriors needed to do their part as well.
“To me!” Fallon shouted lifting his sword in the air.
A roar came from the throats of his men as they converged on him, fighting as one, using savage determination to push their foe back.
Fallon felt a fierce thrill ride through him as he grinned into the face of another beast. This was where he was at his best, face to face with death, locked in a battle that could go either way.
He felt cold satisfaction as beasts fell under his blade, one after another. He might pretend to be a better man for Shea’s sake, a man at least halfway civilized, but at his heart he was a cold-blooded killer who lived for the violence of battle.
For much of his life, it had been his mistress, his only love. There was always something else to conquer, another foe to vanquish. He was good at it. So good, he hadn’t realized how bored he’d gotten.
Not until Shea. She’d reminded him of what it felt to feel something other than this lust for death.
Now, he stood in front of some of his fiercest opponents, and he could let loose the demon hiding within.
He roared his defiance at the enemy. A sound echoed by the men around him, each as alive in this moment as him. The quiet of the last few weeks as they were forced to play nice had given his warriors a surplus of energy, turning them restless and quick to anger.
It was time to unleash those feelings on those who sought to destroy them.
Van sprinted past him, the man surprisingly agile for someone so big. His blond hair shown like a halo around his head as the Lion clan leader planted one foot, twisting his body and putting all his strength into his swing as he beheaded one beast, before pivoting and running through another who sought to take advantage of his distraction.
His men followed, resembling the animal they had taken their name from—a pride of lions eviscerating their prey.
Zeph battled to Fallon’s side. “Now, this is the kind of war I’d hoped for when we chose to follow you.”
The two gave each other happy grins before turning to deal with a beast.
Another leapt up, landing on Fallon and sending him to the ground with its greater weight. Fallon managed to get his sword up, preventing its claws from ripping him to shreds. He grabbed a knife from his belt and buried it in the thick neck, before using his legs to kick it off him.
Zeph was there in the next second, his sword making quick work of the job Fallon had started.
“Down,” Fallon shouted.
Zeph dropped without question, and Fallon grabbed the sword at his side impaling the bat that would have grabbed Zeph and taken off with him.
“Have to say, I’m not a fan of fighting an enemy who attacks from above,” Zeph shouted over the din.
“We need to do something about those things or we’ll continue to get picked off,” Fallon said. There was a small lull. Caden and the rest of Fallon’s Anateri fought, creating a small pocket around them.
The pathfinders were doing what they could, but there wasn’t enough room for them to effectively target the bats, and they couldn’t cover the entire area over the courtyard.
Green light flashed in the sky, streaking across the dark and bursting overhead. There were screeches of pain as bats rained from the sky. More streams of green light followed.
“Horse lords protect us. What in the world is that?” Zeph muttered, staring up in awe.
“Shea,” Fallon said in a soft voice. He didn’t how, but he knew she’d figured out a way to deal with their aerial opponents.
Zeph gave him a disbelieving look.
Fallon clapped him on the back. “My telroi has a way of surprising you.”
While everyone else was focused on the immediate task of surviving, she had deduced the problem and future consequences before coming up with an unorthodox solution. Just like she always did.
“This is our chance,” Fallon shouted. “We’re taking back the wall.”
There were victorious cries as his warriors, buoyed by the victory above, gained new energy. Fallon led the charge, his warriors at his back, each one as determined and merciless as him.
The battle grew chaotic and desperate as they fought, pushing and straining for every inch. The training over all these months to combat not just human enemies but beast as well, paid off. His men fought as a well-honed fighting unit, the likes of which these lands hadn’t seen in too many generations to count.
They cleared the stairs, with the strange green light keeping the bat creatures off them. Finally, at long last, they had control of the wall again.
Abruptly, the beasts pulled away, disappearing back down the way they’d come as if they’d never been.
“We won,” Zeph said, sounding half surprised.
There was a cheer along the wall as they celebrated their victory. Van strode up, blood and gunk covering him, his eyes alight with the thrill of battle, the same crazy grin on his face that Fallon knew was on his as well.
Van and Zeph, more than any other clan leader, were as closely aligned to the call of battle as Fallon. It was why he tolerated their difficult personalities and their constant need to push. A good warrior sometimes had to test the bounds of control and these two men were among the best.
The bodies of beasts lay strewn along the wall and courtyard, a reminder of the attack they’d just survived. They were joined by the bodies of the fallen—pathfinder and Trateri alike.
Fallon noted the number of pathfinders among the survivors and the ones still silhouetted in the windows. Much as he hated to admit it, he doubted they would have been victorious today without their help.
It was something to think about. Perhaps this alliance had more potential and shouldn’t be so easily discarded. The important question was whether he could be assured of their loyalty. Something he still wasn’t convinced was possible.
Fallon raised his sword and roared. His Trateri answered him, their cries that of warriors who had fought death and won.
“Look to your left and right. These are your brothers and sisters. We would not have won if not for the bravery of each one of us. Look out there.” Fallon pointed at the dead below. “That is your enemy, not the people inside these walls. Our fate hangs by a thread. If we cannot come together as one, all of us will perish. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow, but eventually our children or their children will have no future anywhere. Is that what you want?”
“No,” several voices roared their denial.
“Then we fight,” Fallon challenged. “Follow my lead or perish. All who resist will die. I promise you that.”
Those assembled erupted, some in wordless agreement, others voicing their denial.
Fallon watched his people with determined eyes before stepping back and letting his men swallow his form from view. His mercy for his telroi’s people was at an end. That was the last warning he would give these pathfinders. It was up to them whether they would listen. Those that didn’t, would die. Simple as that.
*
Shea panted as she stood, sword upraised next to Gawain. Somehow, she’d managed to beat off several of those bat creatures. She didn’t know how long the battle had gone on for, but it felt like it’d taken a week.
Her back and legs ached. Her arms screamed for mercy. It felt like heavy weights had been attached to each. It turned into an exercise in sheer willpower to continue lifting them to fend off the bats attacking Gawain. He’d ignored the threat to his personal safety, continuing to bring down those over the Keep.
She didn’t know how Trenton had fared below but assumed he’d somehow managed to survive given the fact both Koa were still going.
Gawain’s weapon fell silent.
Shea turned to look at him, exhaustion pulling at her. She’d gone on some pretty brutal missions, scale
d vertical surfaces only a mountain goat would attempt, but somehow using a sword to fight off winged attackers had tested her endurance in a way those previous tasks never had.
“What’s wrong?” she asked as she sucked down air.
She looked out at the night, surprised at the sight of the sun just beginning to peak over the horizon. They’d fought through the night. Dawn was coming, its bright rays already beginning to lighten the night sky.
“I think they’re pulling back,” he responded.
Thank all the gods, Shea thought. She didn’t relax. Her training with Trenton had drilled the pitfalls of such of an act into her.
She came to stand beside him and looked down at the Keep. Sure enough, he was right. She saw the backs of the beasts as they raced across the bridge and into the mist.
“It’s over,” he said.
A large body landed on the rock above them.
Shea whirled, her posture defensive as her eyes found the bat perched just above her, too far to attack.
Gawain tried to turn the Koa but only made it a third of the way before it refused to budge.
The bat’s chuckle was dark as it watched them. Sensing it didn’t plan to attack, at least not yet, Shea studied it.
Her earlier assessment of bat wasn’t quite right. Oh, it had several features in common with one— leathery wings, large ears on the side of its head and the dark color of its form which helped it blend into the night—but it also had distinctly human features.
The shape of its face was humanoid with slightly larger eyes than a human’s. He had no iris, his entire eye black. He also had fangs that protruded from the bottom of his mouth, giving him a distinct underbite. Shea saw he had muscular arms and legs and wore a loin cloth.
She suspected he was intelligent, given the way he crouched right out of reach, watching them as they watched him.
“Why do you attack us?” Shea asked. She didn’t know if he understood human speech but figured she might as well try.
He watched her with dark, enigmatic eyes, his head cocked as his ears rotated, picking up sound much as a bat would.
“Is it because you were told to?” Shea asked not giving up. She needed to understand, and some instinct told her this creature was smarter than your average beast.
“You won’t win this fight,” she said, her voice sure.
That seemed to get through to him.
“Human arrogance. You haven’t changed at all in the years that have passed.” His voice was deep and the words ponderous.
Deciding that the Koa wouldn’t be much use, Gawain stepped back, letting the vines slither off him before turning to the bat, blades appearing in his hands as if by magic.
The creature’s head turned toward him as he gave a disdainful sniff.
“Wait,” Shea said. “It’s not arrogance. These people are warriors and they number many. The ones you see here are just a few. Kill them and they’ll just keep coming, like a plague on your land. They’ll never stop, not until every one of your kind is dead.”
The creature lifted a shoulder, the gesture almost human. “We have survived such odds before.”
Shea hesitated, unsure how to argue with something that was just as convinced of its invincibility in battle as any Trateri she’d ever met.
“You’ve seen what we can do,” she said, gesturing down at the fallen. “Why fight a war that’s not even yours?”
The beast bared his teeth, a strange high-pitched sound issuing from his throat. That struck a chord.
“You must know the person you’re following will only betray you in the end,” Shea reasoned, her voice persuasive as she pressed her advantage. “He won’t be able to help it. It’s what he does.”
“And what will you give us, human?” the creature asked. “Will you let us flock in your caves? Will you give us your mountains?”
He didn’t give her a chance to answer, leaping over them and dropping like a stone, disappearing out of view in seconds.
Noise from behind alerted them to what the creature had already sensed. Gawain stepped back from the Koa as they both took up alert positions, one facing the direction the noise was coming from and the other facing the slowly brightening sky in case one of the bat men decided to come back.
A pathfinder Shea recognized stuck her head into the tunnel cave. “Shea, your warlord has requested your presence.”
Shea blinked in surprise at Eliza. The other woman’s face was respectful and almost pleasant, containing none of the latent hostility or challenging stare of that first night. She acted like she used to when she and Shea had shared missions.
Distrust crowded in almost as quickly as surprise. How did she know this wasn’t a ruse to separate her from Gawain?
Trenton stepped into the cave, one arm coming up to lean against the wall as he peered through the gloom. “Gawain, he wants you too. It sounded urgent.”
Shea stance relaxed infinitesimally. If Trenton believed the pathfinder’s words, it was probably safe.
Despite that, she kept the sword out and ready at her side. She might not believe Eliza was here to try to kill her, but there was no need to trust indiscriminately. As recent events had illustrated, her life was dangerous. Beasts weren’t the only things she had to fear. Those who walked on two legs were to be treated with an even greater amount of caution.
Still, she hesitated. Leaving the Koa unmanned and unguarded felt wrong. “Someone needs to remain on over-watch. We don’t know when those bats will come back.”
Trenton tilted his head. “That’s already taken care of. A couple of pathfinders and your friend Dane showed up shortly after we started using the Koa to help defend it. They’ll stay here. Braden’s also sent some of his warriors to protect the poor darlings.”
He sent a wicked glance at the woman at his side. The woman rolled her eyes but didn’t contradict him.
Good enough for Shea. She slid the sword into its scabbard as Gawain did the same.
“Let’s see what Fallon wants, then,” she said, clapping Trenton on the shoulder and easing past him.
He barely controlled his wince before he followed her.
“What’s the matter? One of the bats get a little too close?” Gawain asked in a sarcastic tone.
Shea hid her grin when her guard sent the clan leader a nasty glare.
“More than a little close,” Eliza said with a sidelong glance. “When we showed up, one of them had him by the arm and was about to drag him over the cliff. Good thing we arrived when we did or else someone would have had to scrape the poor darling off the rocks below.”
Trenton gave her a dour look and Shea choked back a laugh. She could just imagine how much he hadn’t enjoyed being rescued.
“You’re getting a bit slow from your easy assignment,” Gawain said, prodding the other man.
Trenton slid a dark look his way. “You’ve seen the types of situations she gets herself into. Does this seem like a cushy assignment to you?”
Gawain gave a small shrug, conceding Trenton’s point with a small smirk.
Shea ignored the banter. She did not get herself into situations. She saw a problem and fixed it. Not her fault that things often avalanched from there.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Shea entered a great hall, one that was often laughingly referred to as the throne room. She noted she wasn’t the only one to be called to this meeting. Her mother was there, seated and paler than normal, but her eyes were strong and alert, her expression poised and calm. Her father stood at her shoulder, a strong presence who glared at all the rest.
The clan leaders and General Braden were also present. Wilhelm stood at Fallon’s back and several Anateri were spaced throughout the room.
The interesting thing to note, was Fallon’s presence at the head of the room, as he sat in a throne-like chair with a high back and ornate detailing. It was the chair her mother normally resided in for formal functions. That she wasn’t now, spok
e to a shift in power.
It seemed the battle had changed things on more than one front. Not only had Fallon assumed the mantle of authority—the tension in the room told her not everybody was happy about that fact—but there was a grim look on many faces, as if the people here now knew the monster in the woods was real and they doubted their ability to fend him off.
Shea didn’t feel any satisfaction at being proved right. They didn’t have the same excuses a village might. They spent time in the wild, walked its hidden paths every day. They had known something was drastically wrong. The land had practically screamed it. That they didn’t act on what the world told them was their own fault.
Shea crossed to Fallon’s side, not stopping to talk to any of those gathered. She took the seat next to him. His face was set in what she had long since dubbed his warlord’s mask as he watched the gathering with an impenetrable expression. He looked severe and remote, the type of man capable of severing a person’s head from their body as easily and with as little emotion as he might use to pick out what to wear for the day.
It was the face he wore when dealing with his council or recalcitrant villagers. That he wore it now, told Shea how seriously he was treating this situation.
As she took her seat, his hand slid over hers on the armrest and gave it a slight squeeze. She turned her hand over and laced her fingers through his, not looking at him as she gave his hand a squeeze back. She was happy he’d come through the battle in one piece too.
That was all the indication either gave of their relief. They stared at those gathered with stony faces, no hint of what either was thinking in their expression.
Shea relaxed into her seat, grateful for the support after the night she’d had. She was still tired, but there were many things to do before she could find her rest.
“You have been attacked in your own home,” Fallon stated, his voice calm despite the storm she sensed gathering in her warlord. “You would have died without our assistance.”
Some of the council elders nodded as if in agreement with Fallon. Not all though. Shea was disgusted to still see resistance on some faces.