"You knew," Phelan accused. Icy doubt inched into his chest. Was this a trap? Had he miscalculated and betrayed his mission before it really started?
Arun lifted his shoulder, humor glinting in his eyes.
"We suspected there may be something of value, other than money, in these payroll caravans. They happen a little too frequently. Unfortunately, we only have been able to hear about them after the fact, until now."
Phelan sputtered at the blithe explanation. Before he formed a single word, however, the crashing sound of a tree slamming into the ground reverberated around them like thunder. The prearranged signal also created an obstruction that stopped the caravan in its path. There was no time to protest or argue or demand answers.
For now.
After, though, Phelan would get answers. One way or another.
He followed Arun down the hill and dove into the fray of startled guards who froze for a heartbeat, rattled and confused as the band attacked from two directions. Then a sergeant started barking orders from the top of the front carriage. That moment of hesitation was enough, however. The ambushers on both sides closed in before the soldiers could organize or run. The confusion reassured Phelan this wasn't some kind of double-cross aimed at him.
His mission hadn't been compromised. Yet. The sooner they finished here, the sooner he could get to the spring, though.
A young guard, pale with inexperience, made the mistake of rushing away from the refuge of the wagons to engage him. With two quick moves, Phelan had the poor kid disarmed and incapacitated.
Towering nearly half a head over everyone but Nis and his bruiser brothers made Phelan a target, though. He soon found his back against the side of a wagon, fending off three determined guards at once. The Hound in him itched to be set free, but he was confident he'd manage without giving away all his secrets at once. He glanced to his side and realized he'd gotten separated from most of the squad on this side of the road.
Arun battled near the front carriage, taking on the sergeant there and keeping him from organizing the rest of the detail. Everyone between them was engaged in their own fight.
He'd been hoping to hide the extent of his skills for a while longer, but it looked like he was on his own in this battle.
With a feral smirk, he pushed away from the closest guard and brought his sword up to deflect the thrust of the second. He kicked out, landing his foot solidly against the third man's knee. He heard a satisfying crack and yelp before he stumbled back.
Before Phelan could gloat or taunt, however, heavy boots stomped closer in the wagon bed behind him, and he realized he'd miscalculated. With his sword still caught up with the second guard's and the first soldier closing in again, there was no time or room for him to twist and meet the threat at his back.
*******
Selena went straight for the last carriage. As always, the soldiers underestimated her, leaving only one behind while the other two rushed toward the front, shouting for help further up the train. He grinned, puffing up his chest to loom over her. She lunged, and he moved to meet her. Pivoting at the last second, she sidestepped his lumbering attempt. Another quick move and he was over-balanced, his vulnerable back wide-open to her. A hard strike and he was unconscious at her feet, letting her focus on her true goal.
Selena paused next to the carriage and took a deep breath. Then she wrapped her hand around the iron handle and wrenched the door open. The seats inside were empty of guards, but it didn't mean there was nothing. Leaping up, she pulled herself in and methodically set to work turning over cushions and prying at boards. She didn't stop until she was certain no secret hiding places were concealed within the carriage.
"Damn it," she growled to herself. "This can't all be for nothing."
Disappointment squeezed her in its tight grasp for a moment, but she didn't have time to wallow. Her people were still outside, and she needed to be out there with them.
Grasping the hilt of her sword securely, she slid out the second door. Selena landed lightly on her feet in a crouch and took a moment to get her bearings. Immediately, she searched out Arun, catching sight of him right before he dove into the front carriage.
"Good. Maybe he'll have better luck than I did."
Hoping Arun would find what they were here for, Selena relaxed and looked to see who needed her most. A few yards away, three guards surrounded Finn, crowding him against the side of one of the wagons. His usual smirk flashed as he squared himself to face them.
One of the men fell with a yelp, and she thought he had it under control. If he was anyone else, she might have been impressed. But she refused to be dazzled by the charm or skill of someone she didn't trust.
She saw the fourth guard hop into the wagon and rush toward Finn. At the same moment, his head tilted back in awareness, hand tightening on the hilt of the sword still hampered by the other soldier's weapon.
She didn't even think, just shouted and leapt forward, catching the downward stroke with her own sword, giving Finn time to twist away and pull his own weapon free.
Selena's move pushed the wagon-guy off-balance, and he fell, half-slumped over the side. She grabbed the front of his shirt and yanked, using his momentum to send him tumbling to the dirt in a heap. Then she spun, sword up to meet a new attacker. Pressed firmly against Finn, back to back, Selena battled hard, refusing to give ground. They fought together with surprising skill, seeming to instinctively duck and shift and attack in rhythm with one another. Together, they easily kept the rushing soldiers at bay.
A chorus of shouts and the rumble of the heavy tree rolling with a resounding crash reverberated from the front of the caravan. The wagon next to them jerked into motion, and the guards surrounding them disengaged and jumped aboard as it sped away.
Selena slumped, gasping to catch her breath, and leaned heavily against the body behind her. When the burning in her lungs dulled to a bearable ache, she remembered exactly who she was leaning against. Pushing away, she put a couple of feet of space between them and took a moment to gather herself by focusing on carefully wiping her sword before sheathing it.
A hand pressed lightly on her shoulder in a brief pat of camaraderie. Surprised, Selena turned to stare at Finn.
"Thanks," he said, swiping at the trickle of blood welling up in the corner of his mouth. "Thought I was done there for a minute."
There was no harsh undertone or mocking annoyance, just simple, honest gratitude. Not even the grudging, posturing insistence that he would have handled it himself some of the other men always felt like they had to add after the first skirmish or two they fought with Selena.
Considering the outlandish flirting and the arrogant swagger, she'd have expected a little more wounded pride at being saved by a girl.
Before she could decide whether or not to trust his easy acceptance, he frowned, shivered, and looked around at the handful of casualties left in the wake of the failed ambush. Something dark and pained flicked across his face before his expression hardened into a cold, angry mask.
"What is going on here? There was no money in this caravan. And neither you nor your brother seemed surprised. Or concerned by it."
The casual camaraderie of the battle and the momentary intimacy of shared survival evaporated like smoke in the wind.
Selena squared her shoulders, keeping her hand close to the hilt of her sword. She really didn't have the energy or inclination for another fight, but she learned a long time ago that she was more than capable of doing whatever was necessary. It was a lesson her father and his henchmen had inadvertently given her.
But Finn kept his distance, seemingly content to glare rather than attack. Around them, the rest of the team was already starting up the hill, carrying the casualties with them as they headed to the hiding place where they'd left the horses.
"This isn't the time or the place for this conversation."
Taking a calculated risk, Selena turned her back on Finn and followed the others up the s
lope, effectively ending the conversation. She had no intention of telling him that money would have been a nice bonus, but what they really wanted was the army communiqués that were sometimes transported on these caravans.
When she caught up to Nis, huffing a little at tackling the incline with his bulk, he smiled at her then scowled at something over her shoulder.
She didn't give in to the urge to turn around and glance back at Finn. She had a pretty good idea of how angry and irritated he looked at the moment.
"Problem?"
"We'll see."
"You want me to take care of it?"
Her stomach clenched, and she swallowed the automatic, horrified no. She didn't trust Finn. Didn't like him. But the thought of him hurt, or worse, made her uneasy.
"You're bleeding," she said, hoping to distract Nis. "Let me see what I can do about it."
*****
Phelan trudged up the hill behind Selena and Nis. The bruiser turned to glare at him with disdain before whispering quietly to Selena. She pressed a cloth to the bleeding gash on Nis's arm before looking back at Phelan with a cool gaze. The glance was quick and dismissive, and she immediately turned her attention back to the wound.
Phelan didn't give a damn about what the big man thought of him. Right now, he just wanted answers. Why the subterfuge? What were Selena and her brother up to? If they weren't after the money, why waylay an army caravan in the middle of nowhere?
Unfortunately, he doubted he was going to get the full story anytime soon.
And, at the moment, his attention was torn between wanting to demand answers and the need to take a moment to push back against the darkness creeping into his senses. Though some of Selena and Arun's team had been injured, they'd all survived.
A few of the caravan guards hadn't been so lucky. They had moved beyond the veil and Phelan could no longer ignore it.
Death settled around him, a grey mist shadowing the air only he saw. The pull of it wrapped him in its pall, tried to draw him down, drag him under its weight. Years with the Attribute of Death had taught him to disregard the sensation. To lock it away and get on with necessary parts of his life.
But Phelan had never gotten used to it.
He never would.
The world he walked through held the shroud of deaths past in every corner. It surrounded him every moment of every day. An unending reminder that life was short and fragile.
Depending on his mood, sometimes he thought he was better off than his brothers. And, some days he'd gladly trade his version of the Attribute for theirs. Would it be worse to be Maddyn and experience the sharp loss at the exact moment of death? To feel the soul lost forever as it slipped beyond the veil? Or to be Ranulf and sense the approach of a death but not know if it is minutes or hours or days away? Or that something might change fate and divert it for years? To know and not warn anyone because it rarely made a difference? Aware that the knowledge can only cause the person pain and anxiety at the end of their days? Or to push them to make the choice that hastens their end? But still feel as if every breath you don't tell them is a lie that he can never atone for?
He shoved the melancholy thoughts away and welcomed the hot burn of anger, turning the events of the ambush over and over in his mind. Trying to see what he had missed. Wondering if he'd been double-crossed. If his true identity had already been compromised.
By the time they made it back to the clearing and their hidden horses, his fury bubbled over.
"What was that?" Phelan demanded as soon as he got close to Arun. The Bruiser Trio surrounded them immediately, puffed up and eager for a fight but Arun raised a hand to hold them back.
"What was what?" Arun asked with lifted eyebrows and amusement shading his faux-innocent tone.
"There was no payroll on those wagons. And you weren't surprised. What are you really up to?"
Then, remembering his mercenary persona, Phelan added with a snarl, "Where is my money?"
"Considering you'd gained knowledge of the caravans' movements that had eluded us, I assumed you knew as much as we did. There's been rumors for over a year that half the payroll convoys were decoys. That they're being used to carry dispatches and messages. We took our chances this one might have something worth stealing. Unfortunately, it didn't."
Arun exhaled with an exaggerated, put-upon sigh.
His heartbeat remained steady but elevated and clear to Phelan's heightened hearing. It could be from battle or the climb. Or he could be lying.
"We aren't the only ones operating on the borders of Marnak," Arun added. "Tresk isn't interested in sending any more troops than necessary to the fringes of his kingdom, so he relies on deception and secrecy instead."
"So there wasn't anything of value at all in the caravan?" Phelan asked, then leaned in and dropped his voice low and insinuating. "Not even in that front carriage you seemed so interested in?"
This time, a definite hitch marred the rhythmic thrum of Arun's heartbeat. His eyes darted toward Selena before his expression smoothed out and softened again.
"Not a thing."
Phelan glanced around and saw they were drawing more attention from the rest of the twins' little band of outlaws before casually letting his eyes linger on Selena. Her mouth was a thin line, but her stormy eyes stayed flat and unreadable. Whatever silent message Arun had given her, she never it let it slip in word or expression.
He needed to push in another direction and hope to jar something unexpected loose. Pulling up to his full height, he loomed over Arun.
"You still owe me my fifteen percent for the information."
"No problem. It's been a while since I did figures with my tutor, but, if I remember correctly, fifteen percent of nothing is... nothing."
Arun rubbed his hands together then spread his fingers wide, waggling them at Phelan.
"There you go. All yours."
Phelan scowled and let the silence build darkly around them while he considered the best choice of reactions. Anger and violence wouldn't get him more than he had, though it would be satisfying. A man like Finn would never concede. Logic and faint, sinister insinuation of possible exposure might be the best path to take. Especially since most of Arun's merry band of brigands now clustered around them.
Stepping back, Phelan brushed at some of the dust and grime that had gathered on his leathers before speaking.
"That's not the way it works, my friend. You bought information about the location of the caravan. That information was good. The way I figure you owe me about..."
Phelan paused, tapping his finger against his lips thoughtfully for a second or two, before naming a sum that was inflated but not by too much.
Apparently, the others didn't agree because choking sounds and protests welled up all around them.
Arun shook his head, smirking a little.
"You can't be serious?"
"Look at it from another perspective. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, you depend on information brokers like me. If word gets around that you're not willing to pay, you're not going to find others so eager to work with you."
The amusement slipped from Arun's face, eyes hardening. He spit out a new number, way too low, of course. But Phelan expected that. He immediately countered with the amount he'd had in mind from the beginning.
Arun continued to glower, but he nodded sharply.
"We can call that a deal. On one condition."
"Condition?" Phelan drew the word out, wary of a trap.
"You'll get fifteen percent of future jobs until we're square. If you share information to help us get there faster, we'll negotiate an additional fee."
Phelan crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes, trying to look annoyed and not at all like he'd just been handed the in he'd been looking for.
"Then I have a condition of my own. I'm sticking to you like glue until I'm paid in full. Wherever your little clan lays their heads, I'm going to be right there with you. I don't trust you not t
o disappear before I get my money back."
Before Arun could accept, Selena was there, pushing her brother back toward the trees and saying tersely over her shoulder, "Give us a minute."
She didn't stop pushing until they were far enough away not to be overheard by the rest of the group clustered around them. There was no way she could know just how good Phelan's hearing was, though. He eavesdropped easily, though strained to keep his face blank to hide the fact that he heard every word.
"You cannot bring him back to our base. He'll sell us out the first chance he gets."
"He won't sell us out until he gets his money. And it's not like Tresk gives a damn about us," Arun said with a bitter twist. "We're just another group of brigands to him. If he wanted to rout us out, he'd have Hafgan cast a spell or two. As long as we're not overtly interfering with their plans for world domination, they'll leave us alone. An occasional caravan once in a while isn't going to be more noticeable than a gnat to them."
"Gnat's get smashed if they buzz around long enough."
"Look, Lilah vouched for him. And he'll be invested in getting his money back. Plus, he has connections to information we haven't had any luck finding so far. This may be what we've been waiting for. You can put up with him for a few months, can't you?"
She glanced over, and Phelan remained still. To hide his eavesdropping, he tilted his head as if questioning the sudden attention, then flashed a flirty smile that had her frowning and turning her back on him.
"Not like I've much choice," she muttered. "But if he irritates me too much, he may just get smashed."
The twins returned, and Selena walked right past him without even glancing his way.
Arun stopped right in front of him, dark scowl fixed and threatening.
"You can come with us, but if you betray us, you will regret it. Understood?"
"Understood," Phelan said and gave a sarcastic salute. Arun glowered for another few seconds then turned his back.
Not bothering to hide his smirk, Phelan wandered over to his horse, ready to mount up so he couldn't accidentally be left behind.
Unable to help himself, Phelan looked around for Selena. He spotted her across the clearing, checking on the gash on Nis's arm. Selena removed the cloth she'd wrapped around it earlier, her fingers hovering over it for a moment. Then she used the cloth to wipe the last of the blood away, revealing a mere scratch. Phelan's brow wrinkled when he saw it, sure that the wound had been much deeper when he'd followed them up the hill.
By Blood Betrayed (The Lost Shrines Book 3) Page 3