Chapter 23
Lexi
Before the attack, the entire tribe seemed restless. Sleep was hard to come by for everyone except Olyva, who seemed so peaceful that Lexi was jealous. She laid down by Olyva and tried to sleep, but the spongy turf seemed lumpy and uncomfortable. She knew that when the camp was attacked, there would be plenty of warning, but Lexi still couldn’t rest. When the other women went into the large shelter for the night, Lexi got back up.
She paced for a while by the fire, before deciding to go check on the horses. She told herself she was being practical, but the truth was she didn’t like being near the fire or by the largest shelter in the camp. The tents made of tanned leather were great for keeping the rain off her head, but they didn’t offer much in the way of protection during an attack. She preferred being near the animals. It was much darker since campfires did nothing for livestock but spook them. Quntah maintained a small fire, but that was several yards away. The oxen seemed oblivious to anything but the mossy grass they were grazing on, but the horses were more alert.
At first, Lexi just stroked their long faces and patted their necks reassuringly, but before long she had all four horses saddled. She even managed to gather several of the Tamaka rib torches just in case she needed to leave the camp. She silently scolded herself for making plans to flee. She had promised Tiberius that she wouldn’t leave the camp alone again, but she couldn’t help herself. In Avondale, she would simply disappear whenever trouble came calling. She always preferred stealth and subterfuge to direct conflict. That isn’t to say that she couldn’t hold her own in a fight. Living on the streets meant that she had to assert herself periodically; otherwise, she would just have been marked as an easy target. Still, the idea of fighting when she could hide seemed unnatural to her.
She eventually got up into Star’s saddle when the horses grew agitated. She guessed the animals could sense the raiders approaching. Lexi trusted the horses’ senses much more than her own in the darkness. She doubted that they could see much better than she could in the gloomy night, but at least they had a much more powerful sense of smell and hearing.
“Easy there,” she told Star. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here.”
She tied the horses to a rope lead and waited to see what would happen. She felt hidden well enough, even on horseback. They were in the darkness, and had a good view of the camp. When the first of the horns blew, she had to soothe the horses again. She began to hear shouts from the raiders and cries from the wounded. She saw a lot of movement, but she couldn’t really make out what she was seeing. Instinctively, she began moving the horses to the far side of the camp, away from where the raiders were attacking. She erroneously thought the raiders would do their thing then flee back the way they had come. She had no idea they would run straight through the camp.
She had to turn the horses back, circling wide around the perimeter of the camp to avoid the raiders. The Rogu had hurried to the sounds of the horns blowing, so there were no warriors on the far side of the camp. When the first of the raiders hurried back out into the darkness, Lexi’s anger flared up. She was a gifted cat burglar, but the first rule of the streets was to never let anyone else steal from you. She saw the first of the raiders running past with various items. One had a cask of the spirits. Another had some of the highly prized Graypee skins. Then she saw one carrying a young girl and Lexi found herself kicking the horses into action.
She had to go back into the camp to light her torch. She didn’t even realize she was still leading the horses until she bent low in the saddle to thrust her torch into a small campfire. The horses tried to pull away, and she wrapped the lead rope around her saddle horn and then lit her torch. She held it up, casting a ring of wavy light around her. She was just about to gallop back out of the camp in pursuit of the raiders when she heard someone shouting her name.
“Lexi! Lexi!” Tiberius called.
“Over here,” Lexi replied.
She clicked her tongue and dug her heels into Star’s flanks to get the horse moving again. She had the reins in one hand, and the torch in her other. She had no idea what she was planning to do, but she felt she had to do something.
“What are you doing?” Tiberius called to her when they finally came within sight of each other.
“They’re taking our things,” Lexi said. “Even some of the children. We have to stop them.”
Tiberius nodded. He was panting hard from running to find her, but he climbed up into the saddle she had put on Shadow and nodded.
“I thought I had lost you again,” he said. “You weren’t at the shelter.”
“I couldn’t stay there,” Lexi said, as she led the way back out of the camp. “I felt more comfortable with the horses.”
There was a lot of noise from the camp now, as the Rogu and the raiders fought one another. There were wails of lament as daughters and wives were taken against their will, and shouts of alarm as the raiders raced past the other shelters of the camp.
“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Tiberius said.
In the distance, Lexi saw a raider fleeing from the camp with a woman over his shoulder.
“Did you see that?” she asked Tiberius, pointing ahead of them.
“It looked like Olyva,” Tiberius replied.
Then they saw Rafe running from the camp and into the darkness.
“Come on,” Tiberius said. “We have to help them.”
“Take this,” Lexi said, handing Tiberius the other torch. He touched his torch to hers until it caught fire, then they were riding fast after Rafe. Their torches didn’t cast light far enough in front of them to know for sure they were on the right track. If the raider changed direction in the darkness, they knew they might never find them again. Then, to Lexi’s relief, she saw Rafe running ahead of them.
“Rafe!” Tiberius called out.
The young warrior cast a glance back over his shoulder. A look of relief crossed his face, which was pinched in pain or worry. Lexi guessed it was probably both. He slowed and they rode up beside him. Rafe wasted no time in climbing into Mars’ saddle.
“They not far ahead,” he said between gulps of breath. “If we hurry, we can catch them.”
“Was that Olyva?” Tiberius asked.
“Yes,” Rafe said, kicking Mars into a gallop.
Lexi had trouble keeping up. She was still holding the lead rope with their fourth horse and a torch. She didn’t really like galloping during the best of conditions. She always felt like she was going to be thrown off. And even though she could see the light from her torch and Tiberius’ ahead of her, she still felt like something could loom up suddenly out of the darkness and overtake them.
They passed one raider. Lexi saw that it was the man carrying the cask of spirits. He had chosen a heavy burden, and now he was struggling to carry it away. Rafe and Tiberius ignored him, but Lexi guided her horse toward the man and when she was close enough, swung her torch at him. The raider tried to dodge away, but ended up falling down. Then Lexi was past him and focused on catching up with Tiberius and Rafe.
When the circle of their torchlight reached the man with Olyva on his shoulder, the raider spun around and lifted his club. Lexi saw Rafe toss his club away and draw his rapier instead. The long sword glinted in the firelight. Rafe held it out, as if to swing it at his target as he rode past. The raider raised his club to block the blow, but at the last instant Rafe raised his blade, then as he rode past the man, he flicked it out. The sword tip ripped through the man’s exposed neck. If he’d been holding Olyva on the other side, she would have blocked the attack. Blood sprayed out and the raider fell to one knee, dropping his club and holding his hand to the gaping wound in his neck. Tiberius stopped his horse and hurried to where the raider was still holding Olyva. He pried the sleeping girl away from the big raider, and hurried back toward Lexi with her.
“I’ve got her,” he said, holding her like a small child. She was taller than Tiberius, but he held her under her shoulders w
ith one hand, and under her knees with the other.
“Put her on this horse,” Lexi said, holding up the lead rope.
She looked up as Rafe rode back into their circle of light.
“Give me a torch,” he snarled angrily. “I’ll get our people back.”
“Be careful,” Tiberius said.
He had dropped his own torch to carry Olyva, and so Lexi tossed hers to Rafe. The young warrior caught it easily, then spun the horse around and rode off into the darkness. Tiberius settled Olyva across the saddle. Lexi didn’t like seeing her laid across the saddle as if she were dead, but she knew it was the best way to get her back to camp. She and Tiberius might have to fight more of the raiders. If that were the case, she would be safest on her own horse.
Tiberius ran back and snatched up his torch. Lexi couldn’t help but notice the eyes of the man Rafe had killed. They were still opened wide in surprise as if he couldn’t quite believe what had happened.
“Let’s get back,” Tiberius said as he settled onto his saddle.
“Okay,” Lexi said, not really agreeing, but not wanting to leave Tiberius again.
They rode back through the darkness. They saw a few fleeing raiders, but most seemed anxious just to escape. One man was pulling a struggling girl behind him, but when Tiberius rode toward the man, he let her go and ran away. The girl hurried back toward the camp on her own.
When they finally reached the camp, they heard shouts and cheers. They rode between the shelters, moving purposefully back toward the large tent in the center of the camp. Lexi was surprised to see a large group, almost twenty men in all, kneeling in the center of the camp. None of the kneeling raiders had weapons, but they were surrounded by Te’sumee’s Rogu, all of whom were armed with clubs and knives.
“Tiswanee!” Te’sumee said anxiously. “We are victorious!”
The crowd, which was gathering around the big tent, and the captured men cheered. Lexi got off her horse and with Tiberius’ help pulled Olyva down from the saddle she had been stretched across.
“Is she okay?” Te’sumee asked.
“Yes, she’s just unconscious,” Lexi said.
“Are these men all captives?” Tiberius asked.
“Yes, Tiswanee,” the Rogu leader said. “They are defeated. And there are more in the camp.”
“What about our own men?” Ti asked.
“I shall see about that,” Te’sumee said.
Lexi and Tiberius laid Olyva by the tent.
“Can you watch her?” Tiberius said. “I better see to these prisoners.”
Lexi nodded, relieved that the danger was past. She was tired too. The other wives from Ti’s harem were nearby and they gathered around Olyva. Some of the tribe were chanting a victory song. Others were staring at the captured raiders with wide-eyed awe. Lexi was just glad it was all over. She closed her eyes, feeling them sting with fatigue. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep beside Olyva.
Chapter 24
Rafe
He rode through the darkness like death on horseback. He had no intentions of accepting surrender, or showing mercy; he only thought of killing. Any raider who fell into his ring of light died. The first was an older man, which was surprising to Rafe. The Rogu of their tribe were all young men, each one strong and full of life. The raider before him had streaks of gray in his hair and the once firm muscles sagged on his thin frame. He carried a role of tanned hides, although Rafe couldn’t tell which type of skins they were. The raider looked back, wide eyed as Rafe rode him down. Mars was not a warhorse, but the animal seemed to have taken on some of the anger of its rider. Rafe rode past the man, his sword swinging in an even arc that took the graying head from the shoulders. The head toppled backward while the body ran several more steps before collapsing on the ground.
Rafe spurred the horse on again, standing in the stirrups and holding the torch high over his head. Two more raiders were revealed in the light. One had a little girl under his arm, the other a wooden crate which undoubtedly held some family’s most prized possessions. The two raiders split apart and the man with the crate was closest to Rafe. As the horse galloped nearer, the raider fell to his knees and bent over in hopes of evading Rafe’s attack. In most cases, a rider wouldn’t bother with a downed opponent. In fact, Rafe had been trained to ignore a foe on the ground in search of other enemies, but Rafe was loath to let any of the raiders who had tried to steal his Olyva escape from him. He rode close to the man and drove his sword straight down in one quick thrust. The rapier was made for thrusting. It shot downward and pinned the raider to the earth, but the weapon lodged there and Rafe lost his grip on the sword. He had to circle around on his horse and stop beside the dead raider to wrench it free.
“Yaaaahaaa!” he cried, slapping Mars’ rump with the flat of his sword.
The horse dashed forward. Rafe steered the horse toward the raider with the little girl. The attacker heard Rafe coming and dropped his captive. The girl was crying. She hit the ground hard and crawled slowly away from the man. Had the attacker simply run away, Rafe would have worried about leaving the girl to run the raider down, but instead the man turned and prepared to fight.
The smile lit on Rafe’s face again. He didn’t care for riding men down who weren’t brave enough to face him. He found the raider’s courage honorable. Then the man did something Rafe wasn’t expecting. He threw his club with both hands straight at Rafe. The crude weapon flew through the hair, spinning end over end. Instinctively Rafe raised his sword. The club hit the sword and then smashed into Rafe’s shoulder. It was the same shoulder he had hurt earlier in the fight. The pain flared as Rafe reined the horse away from the raider. It took all of Rafe’s strength just to hold on to his sword. With each bounce of the horse’s stride, pain flashed through Rafe’s neck, shoulder, and arm. It was like the blows of a blacksmith, every painful jolt echoing in his mind as he wheeled the horse around.
He couldn’t lift his sword to sheath it, the pain was too intense and his grip too weak. He took the sword with his left hand, juggling the torch as the raider began running toward him. Rafe managed to get the sword secured in his sheath, then, using his knees, circled the horse around the raider.
Rafe had thought the man was planning to attack him, but the raider collected his club from where it had fallen. Rafe could hear the little girl crying and he knew that if he was defeated the raider would carry her away. As much as he wanted to best his opponent, he knew that he stood a better chance of getting hurt worse, perhaps even killed, without the use of his sword arm. He tucked the torch under his injured arm, and turned the horse away from the raider. He could hear the man laughing as Rafe rode away. It took all his self-discipline not to turn Mars around and finish what he had started.
Instead, Rafe carefully dismounted, and saw to the little girl. She was scared, but she wasn’t hurt. He used his good arm to help her up into the saddle, then he led the horse back toward the camp. It took more than half an hour to reach the camp. If there were other raiders passing Rafe in the darkness, they avoided the ring of light his sputtering torch cast and made no noise as they slunk away. Rafe felt every joint aching with pain, his muscles burning, his stomach grumbling, but most of all, his shoulder seemed to be sagging from its socket.
He led Mars through the camp, around shelters and small fires. He could hear the chanting and singing of the Hoskali. He was happy they had survived the raid, but Rafe realized once again how careless he had been. He had nearly lost Olyva, and even come close to being killed himself. He was a warrior and he didn’t fear death, yet he knew that people were depending on him. He had to be more careful, more strategic his father would have said.
The family of the little girl he’d saved came running toward them. The little girl cried out when she saw them.
“Mama! Mama!” she shouted.
Rafe couldn’t help but smile. The little girl was safe, and her father pulled her from Mars’ saddle and held her tight. The girl’s mother threw her arms aroun
d Rafe’s neck and peppered him with tearful kisses. He groaned in pain, pushing her back with his good arm. The woman looked at him with wide eyes.
“You’re hurt,” she said.
“It’s nothing,” Rafe lied.
“Ra’luth, we must help him.”
“Of course, of course,” the man replied, handing the little girl to his mother. “Where is the Swanee? He will know what to do.”
“Here,” Rafe said. “If you want to help, see to my horse. I’ll find Ti and get fixed up.”
The man nodded, taking Mars’ reins. Rafe had discarded the torch as soon as he had gotten back to the camp. Now, without the horse, he walked carefully back toward the big shelter. Tiberius found him just before he arrived back where the captives were being guarded in the opening before the large tent that belonged to the tribe’s Swanee.
“There you are,” Tiberius said. “I was beginning to worry.”
“I got the little girl back,” Rafe said through gritted teeth.
“What’s wrong?” Tiberius asked, a worried look coming over his face.
“The bastard who took her didn’t want to give her up,” Rafe said.
“I’m sure you convinced him otherwise,” Tiberius replied.
“Barely. He threw his club at me. I think it dislocated my shoulder. I can’t move my arm.”
“I think I can fix that,” Tiberius said. “But it’s going to take some time. And it might hurt.”
“I can’t imagine it wouldn’t at this point. Everything hurts.”
“Let’s get you settled with Olyva and then I’ll see what I can do.”
“Is she okay?” Rafe asked.
“She seems to be,” Tiberius said. “I think she slept through the whole ordeal.”
They walked slowly back to the shelter.
“Filsa,” Tiberius said, “Rafe needs help.”
The group of wives hurried to assist Rafe. They gathered cushions and helped him to settle onto the ground. They cut his shirt away and Rafe could see his shoulder standing out at an odd angle. He felt queasy and couldn’t stop shivering, despite the fact his whole body was covered in sweat from the pain. Filsa brought Rafe a cup of Kymis, which he drank eagerly. The other wives fretted over him while he waited for Tiberius to return and work his healing magic.
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